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mccdreamys-writes · 18 days

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smiles for miles – 6. ain't like home

burn the bridges in our town till the point where we drown, as it all comes down. - Dotan, Home

S E P T E M B E R 1 7 T H 2 0 1 1

Coming back to Kansas City stirred up a storm of feelings inside me, pulling memories from the depths where they'd been hiding for so long. Walking down those streets again, it felt like a tug-of-war between wanting to be here and wishing I were anywhere else.

It had been ages since I'd been in this city, and part of me questioned if I even wanted to be back. But duty called, reminding me why I'd returned—Maile needed me, and that was reason enough.

"Alex."

The sound of my name, spoken with such gravity, cut through the air, snapping me back to reality. I turned to see my brother coming towards me, a reminder of the family ties that bind us, whether we liked it or not.

Inhaling deeply to steady my nerves, I acknowledged him with a nod, my greeting carrying a mix of composure and underlying tension. "Scott," I said, my tone carefully neutral, though hints of apprehension lingered beneath the surface.

Despite the warmth of the sun casting its golden glow over the city streets, an intangible chill seemed to permeate the air, casting a shadow over our interaction.

His question hung between us, weighted with skepticism and perhaps a touch of judgment. "What brings you back here?" he queried, his voice betraying a hint of doubt.

Meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve, I made my intentions clear. "I'm here for Maile," I asserted firmly, my words leaving no room for misinterpretation.

An incredulous scoff escaped him, accompanied by a dismissive roll of his eyes. "You're kidding, right?" he retorted, frustration lacing his voice. "I thought you were done with all of that, you finally moved on."

Though his words stung, I refused to let them shake my determination. "Maile's gone missing, Scott," I explained, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily in my tone. "I couldn't just ignore that."

His uncertainty was clear, etched in the lines of his face and the cautious tone in his voice. "I thought you and her weren't on speaking terms," he remarked, his curiosity evident.

I met his gaze squarely, my determination unwavering despite the skepticism in his eyes. "There's more to it than that," I replied, my voice steady.

His skepticism persisted as he leaned forward, pressing for more information. "How can you be so sure she's missing?" he probed further.

In response, I reached across the table, laying out the collection of poems in front of him. His brow furrowed as he examined the pages, his skepticism growing. "What's the deal with these?" he questioned, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"Poems," I stated plainly, my voice calm but resolute. Despite his doubts, I knew these verses held the key to understanding Maile's disappearance, and I was determined to make him understand their significance. "She wrote them."

He delicately lifted the first poem from the table, his fingers moving with a mix of caution and curiosity, as though each line held a hidden message waiting to be deciphered. With furrowed brows, he scanned the verses, his gaze lingering on certain words, perhaps searching for clues that eluded even the most discerning eye.

After a moment, he set the first poem down and reached for the second, his demeanor shifting to one of deeper concentration. His eyes darted across the page, absorbing each word with intent scrutiny, as if trying to unravel the secrets woven within the lines. Finally, with a thoughtful exhale, he placed the second poem beside the first, his expression a blend of contemplation and skepticism.

Turning his attention back to me, he voiced his doubts, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "What makes you so certain she wrote these?" he questioned, his skepticism challenging the notion that these poems were Maile's handiwork.

I felt a pang of frustration at my inability to provide concrete evidence, my conviction resting solely on intuition and the haunting familiarity of Maile's writing style. How could I convey the depth of my certainty when I lacked tangible proof?

Sensing my inner turmoil, Hotch interjected with a calm authority, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Let me point something out," he began, his tone measured yet authoritative. "In the first poem, the word 'Smiles' is capitalized and circled in what we believe to be her blood. And as you might know, your sister used to call her-"

My brother's expression softened slightly as Hotch's words sank in, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. "Smiles," he echoed, the word carrying a weight of memories and shared experiences. Yet, despite this moment of recognition, skepticism still lingered as he voiced his doubts. "You know, Alex, this is a stretch to say the least. We need more than just circumstantial evidence to make such claims."

With determination in my voice, I faced him squarely, my patience wearing thin like an old rug. "You don't need to help us, Scott," I shot back, frustration seeping into my tone. "We've been given a place on your turf. If you want to join our investigation, feel free to do so. If you don't, stay the hell out of my way."

Turning sharply on my heel, I exited the room, leaving behind a lingering cloud of tension thicker than molasses. Despite my departure, the echo of conversation between my brother and my team members still reached my ears.

Morgan's words hung in the air like a gentle breeze, a reminder of the seriousness of the situation. "This means a great deal to her," his voice carried, tinged with concern. "You might want to take it seriously."

But my brother's response sliced through the atmosphere like a sharp knife, his tone rigid and unwavering. "I can't," he snapped back tersely. "I can't take anything seriously that has to do with that Crane girl. Alex's always been crazy about that girl, something I never understood. That girl is insane, and makes Alex look like a pedophile. I... Alex can't think straight when it comes to that girl."

As his words sank into my thoughts, a mix of frustration and disbelief bubbled up within me. How could he casually dismiss the seriousness of our situation, shrugging off the urgency of our investigation like it was nothing? But it was clear that changing his mind wouldn't be easy.

"Is it really that hard to ease her mind?" Hotch's question hung in the air like a heavy fog, casting a palpable tension over the room as everyone waited for my brother's response. When he stayed quiet, Hotch pushed forward, his voice steady but firm.

"If you don't trust Blake," Hotch started, his words deliberate, "that's okay. But then help us by proving that Maile Crane has nothing to do with this. We need to know everything about her. And everything about her connection with your sister."

As I observed him from behind the partially open blinds of the office, I could sense the weight of his frustration in the way his hands grasped at his hair. His voice, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and unease, filled the room as he began to recount memories from our past.

"We used to live right across from the Crane family," he started, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "There was Everett Crane, Josephine, and Maile. They were always a bit peculiar." His words hung in the air, carrying a mix of uncertainty and intrigue.

"He was a friendly guy, everyone in the neighborhood loved him," he continued, a hint of fondness creeping into his voice. "Josephine kept to herself mostly, didn't socialize much. Alex, though, she really took a shine to her. I think Alex was probably the only person Josephine ever really talked to around here."

Listening to his memories, I couldn't help but reflect on my own experiences with our former neighbors. Josephine held a special place in my heart; she was like a second mother to me. Despite the description, I remembered her as gentle and nurturing, always there with a kind word or a story to share. She had taught me how to read, passing on a gift that I later shared with her daughter, Maile.

As he delved further into his memories, each word seemed to stir up a whirlwind of emotions inside me. His voice, lacking any emotion, cut through the air, yet his words sparked a fiery anger within me.

"I guess I never really got to know her," he continued, his tone distant. "But she... she was always just wandering around, observing everything. And whenever someone tried to talk to her, she'd bolt and run away." His words painted a picture of Maile, but it clashed with the lively, spirited girl I remembered.

"Nobody really got close to her, except for Alex," he added. At the mention of my name, a flood of memories rushed back—times spent with Maile, secrets shared under the moonlight.

"My sister was crazy about that girl, more than she was about her own family," he admitted, bitterness dripping from his words. "She'd make decisions, big ones, based on what would be good for Maile." His revelation filled the room, highlighting the sacrifices made for love.

"People in the neighborhood thought she was obsessed with that girl. They wondered if she'd had a 'thing' for Maile," he continued, his tone heavy with resentment. "They started to keep a distance. It really put a strain on our family." The weight of his confession lingered, casting a shadow over our past.

Leaving the building, weighed down by my brother's revelations, I sought refuge in the calmness of the precinct's benches outside. The breeze offered a soothing touch against my skin, a brief respite from the storm raging within.

Soon, my team joined me, their presence a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind. Morgan's question broke the silence, delving straight to the heart of the matter.

"Did Maile always have to watch out for people?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I nodded, memories of the Crane household flooding back vividly. "Yeah, he beat that into her. Same with Josephine," I confessed, the gravity of my words hanging in the air. "They lived in constant fear of everyone."

Anxiety gripped me tightly as I spoke, a sense of urgency pushing my words forward. "I want to make something clear. I wasn't in love with Maile. I loved- still love her, but I promise..."

Hotch's hand gently rested on my shoulder, offering a momentary sense of reassurance. His eyes conveyed understanding as he spoke softly. "We know, Blake," he reassured me, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of my turmoil. "But we also recognize that circumstances change."

I turned to him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. "What do you mean?" I inquired, my voice tinged with uncertainty and a hint of fear.

His expression softened, a mixture of sympathy and resolve evident in his gaze. "What I mean is, Maile holds a special place in your heart," he explained gently but firmly. "No matter how much time passes or how hard you try to deny it, she's deeply ingrained in your soul. The way you talk about her, the way you care for her—you have given her your heart and you're not gonna get it back. Blake. And that's something you can't change. She is the love of your life."

His words struck a chord deep inside me, reminding me of something I had tried to ignore. Thinking back on my life, I couldn't deny the strong feelings I always had for Maile. No matter what, she was the most important person to me.

I tried to find happiness with other people, getting into relationships and even getting married. But nothing compared to what I felt for Maile. Even when she wasn't around, I couldn't forget about her. She was always on my mind, guiding me like a bright light in the dark.

In my life story, Maile was like the string that held everything together. Even though I tried to move on, she was always there, shaping my decisions and influencing my path.

With a heavy heart, I accepted the undeniable truth: Maile was more than just a friend; she was the love of my life, the one who held the key to my heart, even when she was absent from it.

"So where are we going next?" Morgan asked.

Raising my gaze to meet Morgan's inquisitive eyes, I felt a surge of determination coursing through me, mingling with the memories that flooded my mind. "We're going to 'the house across the street'."

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spaceagebachelormann · 1 year

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𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

platonic

romantic

familial

any gender x any gender

headcanons

poly relationships

sensitive topics

x reader

ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)

i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone

same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut (i’m 14)

yandere

incest

student x teacher

canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests

canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests

songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)

things about ocs

ship fics

character list (more to come!)

❍ = easiest characters to write for

bolded — favourite characters to write for

KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed

DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

#marlee organization <3

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

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Hey besties.

So thanks to an influx of new followers and from different fandoms and interesting requests I’ve been getting I figured it was needed to repost this.

Things I WILL NOT write for:

-Non con or even CNC

-Age gaps. (Realistic ones are fine. But i refuse to do 18 year old super genius yn who graduated Harvard already and 40+ year old character falls in love with them).

-Basically YN under the age of 30. I’m in my mid 30’s and most people in the industries that my fics involve would be in that age rage, or late 20’s at best if you’re looking under, go elsewhere.

-Underage yn’s. If you want a fic where yn is the chlld this is NOT the place.

-stories involving losing virginities. While i may write someones first experience with the the same sex, or a specific style, i do not write virgin characters

-pregnant y/n’s. It’s very rare I will accept requests involving pregnancy

-Male yn’s. Nothing against it but as a female, esp when it comes to smut I’m uncomfortable writing it.

-Same goes for medical conditions. There are certain that I am familiar with or are easier to research or I have close friends who can give insight to, otherwise i feel like I’m not doing it justice and also dont want to offend. Dm or send an ask if you have specific questions.

WHO I Write For:

(just because there is someone on my masterlist does not mean i still write for them. i only write this list.)

Law and Order(SVU/OC/ OG)

-Rita Calhoun, Casey Novak, Elizabeth Donnelly, Alex Cabot, Grace Muncy, Tonie Churlish, Melinda Warner, Pippa Cox, Sonya Paxton, Amanda Rollins, Peter Stone, Mike Dodds, Joe Velasco, Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Terry Bruno.

-Ayanna Bell, Samantha Maroun

-Calex, Barhoun, Calvak, Novelly, Benhoun.

Criminal Minds:

Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Alex Blake, Tara Lewis, Aaron Hotchner

House of Cards:

Heather Dunbar, Jackie Sharp

-Duckie (heather x jackie)

Homeland:

Elizabeth Keane

Grey’s Anatomy/Private Practice:

-Addison Montgomery, Amelia Shepherd, Charlotte King

NCIS:

Abigail Borin, Anthony Dinozzo

Chicago PD:

Hailey Upton, Kim Burgess, Erin Lindsay, Kevin Atwater

DM/Ask box for taglists!

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melpcmene · 1 year

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#MELPCMENE ( A MUSE OF TRAGEDY, AND ALL HAVE TRAGEDIES IN THE END. ) A multi-muse surrounding different types of characters. A study in: LOVE & LOST & IN-BETWEEN. ( Of bloodshed and horror, but with the company of affection and adoration from many. ) ( DNI IF YOU'RE UNDER 20. ) | Do read my rules before interacting. ( This blog uses Beta ) CURATED BY EMMETT ( THEY/THEM )

promo | memes | interest tracker | open starter

LINKS UNDER THE READ MORE FOR HEADCANONS AND SUCH. ALONG WITH AN UPDATED MUSE LIST.

VASH HEADCANONS. | VASH VERSES MILLY HEADCANONS. SANJI HEADCANONS.

( ctrl + f to search for a specific fandom! )

𝙋𝙍𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔.

( 10,000+ ) KALECGOS / WARCRAFT / GENDERLESS / HE/THEY/IT ( BI ) ( 30+ ) HENRY OAK / DUNGEONS & DADDIES / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 20+ ) PERCIVAL DE ROLO / CRITICAL ROLE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 28 ) VEX'AHLIA / CRITICAL ROLE / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( PAN ) ( 24 ) JAY WALKER / NINJAGO / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( PAN ) ( 100 ) VASH THE STAMPEDE / TRIGUN / TRANSMAC ENBY / HE/THEY ( PAN ) ( 20+ ) MILLY THOMPSON / TRIGUN / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( PAN ) ( 8000+ ) THE CORINTHIAN / SANDMAN / AGENDER / HE/THEM ( GAY ) ( 30+ ) SCOTT SUMMERS / X-MEN 97 / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI )*

*I am considering roleplaying Scott in his Earth-616 verse and Earth-101001 verse and I am slowly going through various media ( aka comics, etc )

𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙊𝙉𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙔.

( 26 ) UTHER HAWKE / DRAGON AGE 2 / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 28 ) BLAKE LANGERMANN / OUTLAST 2 / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 33 ) JOSEPH ODA / THE EVIL WITHIN / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( ?? ) CONNOR RK800 / DBH / GENDERLESS / HE/HIM/THEY/IT ( BI ) ( 25 ) DR NEIL WATTS / FINDING PARADISE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 15-20 ) SALLY FISHER / SALLY FACE / GENDERFLUID / SHE/HE ( BI ) ( OLD ) THE ELEVENTH DOCTOR / DW / ENBY / HE/THEY ( PAN ) ( OLD ) CHIEF EXECUTIVE / DW / ENBY / HE/THEY ( DEMI ) ( OLD ) TIME LORD VICTORIOUS / DW / ENBY / HE/THEY ( PAN ) ( 30+ ) JASKIER / THE WITCHER / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( PAN ) ( 29 ) EVAN BUCKLEY / NINE-ONE-ONE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 18-20 ) MAKOTO TACHIBANA / FREE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 1000+ ) SHEN WEI / GUARDIAN / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( GAY ) ( 26 ) IANTO JONES / TW / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 27 ) CHO HAKKAI / SAIYUKI / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( OLD ) TENPOU GENSUI / SAIYUKI GAIDEN / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 9 ) OPAL LYNCH / THE RAVEN CYCLE / GENDERLESS / SHE/THEY ( 19-20 ) ADAM PARRISH / THE RAVEN CYCLE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI )

𝙏𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂.

( 50+ ) KING MAGNIFICO / WISH / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 27 ) LEANDER / TOUCHSTARVED / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( OMNI ) ( 25 ) MHIN / TOUCHSTARVED / ENBY / THEY/THEM ( BI ) ( 40+ ) ALBERT WESKER / RESIDENT EVIL / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 40+ ) ALEX WESKER / RESIDENT EVIL / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 30+ ) ETHAN WINTERS / RESIDENT EVIL / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 30+ ) JOHN MARSTON / RDR / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 25+ ) BONNIE MACFARLANE / RDR / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 28 ) PARVATI HOLCOMB / THE OUTER WORLDS / ENBY / SHE/THEY ( ACE ) ( 28 ) ERIC KING / HOUSE OF ASHES / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( CLOSETED BI ) ( 100+ ) KARLACH CLIFFGATE / BALDUR'S GATE 3 / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( PAN ) ( 10,000+ ) DEATH OF THE ENDLESS / SANDMAN / AGENDER / THEY/IT/SHE ( PAN ) ( 10,000+ ) DREAM OF THE ENDLESS / SANDMAN / AGENDER / THEY/IT/HE ( BI ) ( 29 ) JOHANNA CONSTANCE / SANDMAN / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 22 ) THOMAS 10K / Z-NATION / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 25 ) CASSANDRA / Z-NATION / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/IT ( BI ) ( 30+ ) LUCIEN CROWN/MILO / MORBIUS / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( GAY ) ( 25+ ) AMBROSIUS GOLDENLOIN / NIMONA / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( GAY ) ( 1000+ ) NIMONA / NIMONA / GENDERFLUID / SHE/XEM/THEY ( LESBIAN ) ( 20+ ) DEREK / WWDITS / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 30 ) GUILLERMO DE LA CRUZ / WWDITS / CIS-MALE / HEHIM ( GAY ) ( 544+ ) THE GUIDE / WWDITS / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( PAN ) ( ?? ) RUIN / SANDMAN / TRANSMASC ENBY / HE/THEY ( GAY ) ( 6000+ ) AZIRAPHALE / GOOD OMENS / AGENDER / HE/THEY ( GAY ) ( 24-35 ) PHOENIX WRIGHT / ACE ATTORNEY / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 24-35 ) MILES EDGEWORTH / ACE ATTORNEY / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 27 ) YOI FORGER / SPY X FAMILY / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 28 ) LOID FORGER / SPY X FAMILY / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 39 ) RED-HAIRED SHANKS / ONE PIECE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( PAN )* ( 19-21 ) VINSMOKE SANJI / ONE PIECE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI )* ( 28-30 ) NICO ROBIN / ONE PIECE / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI )* ( 29-31 ) BOA HANCOCK / ONE PIECE / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI )* ( 23-25 ) KAKU / ONE PIECE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI )* ( 34-36 ) SMOKER / ONE PIECE / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI )* ( 24 ) BARTOLOMEO / ONE PIECE / ENBY / HE/THEY ( PAN )* ( 26-39 ) DONQUIXOTE "CORAZON" ROSINANTE / ONE PIECE / CIS MALE / HE/HIM ( BI )**

*I'm currently on episode 928 for one piece, and haven't started the manga so bear with me if I get things wrong! ( But I'll likely eventually start the manga soon. ) ( *Corazon will have a survive verse, hence the 26-39 )

( 27 ) COURIER SIX AKA GAMBLE / FALLOUT NEW VEGAS / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( PAN ) ( 35 ) ARCADE GANNON / FALLOUT NEW VEGAS / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( GAY )

𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙄𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎.

( 230+ ) AVA BATES / FALLOUT / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 1000+ ) NIGHTMARE OF DROWNING - DEIRDRE / SANDMAN / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 1000+ ) DREAM OF SONGS - ROBIN / SANDMAN / GENDERFLUID / THEY/SHE/HIM ( ACE ) ( 32 ) DAISEY O'MALLEY / FANDOMLESS / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( BI ) ( 28 ) JUDE O'MALLEY / FANDOMLESS / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 29 ) SAMSON SMALL / FANDOMLESS / CIS-MALE / HE/HIM ( BI ) ( 29 ) SARAH SMALL / FANDOMLESS / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( PAN ) ( 26 ) CLEO WRIGHT / DRAGON AGE / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( LESBIAN ) ( 22 ) KATHRYN COUSLAND / DRAGON AGE / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ( LESBIAN )

#pinned post.

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wheelsupchb · 2 years

Text

The Discography of a Love Story | a Criminal Minds fanfiction | Rated: mature

AO3

Genre: romance / fix-it / relationship

"Love may not be ordinary, but it can be found at common places. It doesn't have to be epical you see, it doesn't have anything to do with the moon or the stars, or always have to be a matter of life and death. Love, my dear readers, is dumb luck"

TDOALS summary: When a 14 year old Spencer Reid joined a extension program project - that could also be easily called summer camp for restless minds - he did not expect that between math problems and numbers he would meet the love of his life.

The story contemplates the stages of being in love with someone in a lifetime, how many faces of the beloved one could met, and yet fall each time. Inspired by music, we will spot our characters relationship through their lives, nurturing a bond that poets may call them twin flames, too tied within time and space to be a coincidence. It's about growing up, it's about love, it's about healing and, above all, it's about hope.

#ao3 #fanfic #fic rec #my fic #spencer reid oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic rec #cm fic #cm fanfic #alex blake #jason gideon #bau team

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marvelcriminalhoe · 3 years

Text

Stumbling West

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Chapter 10

Sweet Sound of Silence

i.e. Season 8 Episode 1

Chapter summery: A new agent is introduced and some relationship rules get blurred.

TW: Talks of criminal minds case, typical criminal minds jargon,

AN: This is sort of just a chapter to introduce Blake to the story but there is some relationship fluff that I love :)

word count: 2,186

Series Master List

“How’s Emily doing?”

“Brilliant and lovely.”

You, JJ, and Reid greet Derek and Penelope when they enter the bullpen. They have just spent the last 10 days in London, with Emily.

After JJ’s wedding, she decided to take the INTERPOL job to run the London office. You’re sad to see your friend leave, but you know it’s what is best for her. She died, not physically, but who she once was is gone now and she needs to be able to find herself again. You support her 100% in this decision.

“Her apartments off the chain.” Morgan tells all of you, only to be interrupted by Garcia, “You mean her flat.”

Conversation goes on a little more, Presents are handed out, when Garcia sobers up, going and asking about your new teammate, Alex Blake, “How’s the new? Is she nice?”

“Yeah, she is.” JJ responds to her.

“I’m just asking.” Garcia defends herself, putting her hands up, “Reid do you know she was recruited when she was 24?”

“I’ve guest lectured in her forensic linguistics class before.”

Garcia rolls her eyes, “Of course you have ‘cause she’s a professor and an agent, which is so impressive.”

“No, really, she’s great.” You try and reassure your dramatic friend.

“Well you would think that! You both graduated from Berkeley and you both got recruited by the government at young ages. Now you guys and Reid will probably form a doctors club and have inside jokes-“

“Oh a doctors club.” Reid pipes in while Garcia keeps going, not noticing the person walking up behind her.

“- And my point is, clearly, she is smart and capable, but is she nice?”

Morgan clears his throat, putting his hand on his face to hide his laughing.

“Oh dear god this is happening, where I keep talking and the person is behind…” Garcia trails off as she turns around, coming face to face with Blake, “…me”

You and Reid make eye contact, both turning away and walking towards your desks before the conversation could get more awkward.

Just as you are about to sit down, Rossi and Aaron come through the doors, “Don’t unpack.”

The team makes there way to the round table, as Aaron stands in front, arms crossed over his chest, to give the case details, “A few hours ago there was a prison transfer to the county hospital in Abilene, Texas. The ambulance crashed and the prisoner escaped.”

You grab the file from Erin Strauss as she passes it to you. She’s been showing her face around the team more often since the bank robbery, and you’re not entirely sure how to feel about that. Based off the cold shoulder you see Blake give her, you’re not the only one. Though that seemed more personal than bureaucratic related.

“Aren’t the US Marshals on this?”

“Yes they are, but they need your help because his is what they found inside.”

Video of the crime scene gets pulled up, and everyone sees the inside of the ambulance.

Well that’s not good.

“So the prisoner is the silencer.” You state, bit of intrigue in your voice.

“Or it’s a copycat.” Rossi theorizes.

Aaron shakes his head, “Forensics confirmed it’s the same unique double knot Ligature he used in the last three murders.”

“His last known victim was in 2004 and he was never caught.” Reid shares.

When you land in Texas you, Reid, and Dave, all go to check out John Doe’s cell at the prison. The cell is filled with books and papers, each piece pointing to a solitary existence. He liked being alone, escaping his mind through other peoples words.

“The most worn book is ‘The Count of Monte Cristo.” You point out, flipping through the pages.

“Of course it is.” Rossi says ironically, picking up some of the notebooks on the shelf, “The lead characters only purpose was to seek vengeance. Maybe he relates.”

“It’s in French.”

The older man raises his eyebrows at that, “Didn’t see that coming. Looks like he wrote a lot too.”

“He’s been pent up physically and verbally far too long.” Reid states.

“So he gets into his first fight within days of being here. It got him a weeks worth of solitary.”

Reid tilts his head, “That pattern escalated until he eventually killed an inmate, got out of solitary and killed another.”

“So he silenced his victims before he gets inside. His actions get him silenced while he’s here. Ironic?” Rossi wonders.

You shrug, “His two forms of expression are silence and rage. Maybe his writings will tell us why.”

The three of you gather the notebooks and make your way to the precinct.

If there is one thing you hate about your job, it’s the motel showers. Most of the cases you are called in on are in small suburban areas, which means you stay in the towns local motel 6’s, instead of hotels. Hotels at least have the decency to have proper water pressure, even if they are bad at everything else. But motels? Never.

The crime scene you and the team went to tonight was, a lot, to put it mildly, and the only thing you wanted once you got back to where you and the team were staying, was a hot shower, to wash off all the gross that comes with this job. But stepping out of the shower now, you don’t feel as good as you were hoping to.

The water was luke warm at best, and the low pressure didn’t make you feel like you were actually getting clean, nor did the shower calm you like you were hoping. With an annoyed huff and a shake of your head, you go through with the rest of your nightly routine, before putting on your pajamas, soft shirt and shorts, hoping to maybe get a few good hours of sleep tonight to lift your mood.

Just as you are leaving the small bathroom, there is a knock on your door. You grab your gun that is on one of the bedside tables, not expecting anyone to be knocking this late, everyone you know should be sleeping, before walking towards the door and looking out the peephole.

Seeing who is on the other side, you open the door with a questioning look on your face, greeting your boyfriend, who is also wearing his pajamas, “Hey?”

Aaron smiles at you, eyes taking in your legs, before moving up to your face, “Hi.”

A small chuckle leaves your mouth, opening the door wider to allow him to walk in, “What are you doing here?”

Aaron, your wonderful boyfriend, that you love very much, also happens to be your boss, and you both made a rule when you started seeing each other.

When on a case, stay completely professional.

The lines got blurred a bit during the bank case. And during the last case in Seattle, when one of the local cops wouldn’t stop flirting with you. Aaron kissed you on the cheeks in front of him, when you were handing him a file. Aaron Hotchner can be a possessive man when he wants to be, not that you minded, the cop was annoying you.

Lucky for you, the rest of the team wasn’t in the department, but you have a feeling JJ knows there’s something going on between you and your boss. It’s really just a matter of time before the rest of the team finds out. You told Emily, before she left for London, and although she promised to keep it a secret, she did let it slip that she knew you were attracted to one another. You figure the rest have picked up on that too.

But, you both agreed to the rules, knowing that although it’s not technically against protocol, it is highly frowned upon. It’s why he refers to you by your last name at work and you call him Hotch in front of the others.

“What? I can’t come say goodnight to my girlfriend, that I only got to see today very briefly?”

You raise your eyebrows amusingly at him, “You can. But aren’t you the one that made these rules so we wouldn’t blur the lines on the job?”

“I know.” Aaron sighs, shoulders dropping, “But I missed you.”

This makes you pout at him, heart warming. He reaches out and grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him, “Plus, the lines are already blurred.” He says, resting his forehead on yours, “I’m pretty sure they were blurred the moment you walked into the conference room looking for Derek.”

This pulls a laugh from you, as you reach up and place a quick kiss to his lips, “I do remember thinking you were very attractive with that beard.”

He smirks at you, dropping another sweet kiss to your lips, “And what about without the beard?”

“The most handsome man.”

Aaron shakes his head at you, eyes gazing at you lovingly, “This is highly inappropriate of me to ask,” He jokes sarcastically, before his voice turns soft, “Can I just stay and hold you tonight?”

And there goes your heart again. Breaking into tiny pieces by this sweet, sweet, man in front of you. You swear he tries to make you cry on purpose or something.

“You don’t have to ask babe. You’re always welcome.”

You both fell asleep to the sound of the silent hotel room, and the rhythm of your heartbeats beating together.

With a kiss to your forehead and a small, “See you later.” Aaron sneaks out of your room before your alarm even sounds.

There was yet, another murder committed in the middle of the night, and now you and the team are around the conference room, given to you by the local police, trying to figure out where this John Doe is going next.

“ Ok, so he leaves words until today. Maybe he’s closer to what he’s looking for?” JJ shares her theory.

You shrug, “He could have already found it.”

“If he feels satisfied, he may disappear.” Morgan nods, going off your thought.

Blake hums thoughtfully, “We’re too close to let that happen.”

“Alright, then we go back to the first kills.” Aaron proposes, “3 women, late 40s, all working class. Mothers, Brunettes, beaten and left in a ditch. That was his message. He hated them.”

“Maybe he’s not targeting the women anymore because he already killed the person he blames?” You wonder.

“Most likely his mother.” Blake states.

Aaron nods, dialing the office phone in front of him, “We should have Garcia run all of the victims names again.”

“At your service.” Her voice comes through the speaker.

“Pull up the ‘04 victims.”

You hear her typing, “Done.”

“We need a list of their children.”

“Ok, next of kin, state welfare, give me a sec.” More typing is heard before she speaks again, “Gotcha! Ok. Some were put into foster care after their moms died, runaways, truancy, not good.”

“Any incarcerated?”

“A handful. Do you have anymore parameters?”

“Uh, not yet.” Aaron tells her, “Just send us the list.”

You all look through the files of the first victims, going over them together and looking through their family history. Trying to find anything that could lead you to the guy or what it was he was looking for.

The ending to the case is a somber one. You were able to save a fathers life, and his children from witnessing it be taken away. But your John Doe, who’s real name is John Myers, didn’t have the same fate. You saw that Aaron was rattled by it. Not being able to save everyone, even the bad. But there wasn’t much support you were able to give him in front of the team.

Which is why you were a bit surprised when he sat across from you on the plane. He usually takes the loner seat in the back to spread out and do paperwork uninterrupted, but you welcomed the close proximity. You would feel his gaze on you briefly every few minutes, or a foot nudge your leg here or there. Anytime you would look up though, he would be looking down at the file in front of him, doing his work. The only evidence of his mischief being a small amused smile on his face.

When you finally did catch his eye, the plane was getting ready to land, it was full of warmth and tenderness. You sent a fond smile his way, hoping it would display exactly what you wanted to tell him in that moment, but weren’t willing to risk the prying ears of the team surrounding you.

I love you.

Your wish being granted by the small nod and discreet wink sent back to you.

I know.

Gathering your things to get off and head to the SUV outside that will take you back to headquarters, Aaron filed in behind you on the way out, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Come over tonight?”

You turn your head slightly to look back at him, sending him a small nod and a wink of your own.

********

Tag list: @bakugouswh0r3 @averyhotchner @rousethemouse @malindacath

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #bau reader #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

149 notes · View notes

lonelyprinceofthedark · 2 years

Note

THIS TOOK FOREVER I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY WITH THE LIST.

Stories

The Magnificent Hacker NS

Nightshade/Noah Storm

Not

Isabella (Did I Give Her A Last Name)?

Camo/Perce (Can't Remember Last Name)

Ire (Can't Remember Last Name)

Lift (Name Not Given Yet)

Massacre Murderer (Name Not Given Yet)

Mod

Cerulean (Name Not Given Yet)

Tricky/Blue (Real Name Not Given)

Unnamed Runaway Kid Of A Gang Member

Apocalypse Of The Fallen

Mr. Nickleson

Mrs. Nickleson

Jinney Nickleson

Riley Garder

Aunt Jane

Aunt Liz

Well, Stranger Things Have Happened

Sol 'Akie' Mavol

King Mavol

Queen Aria Mavol

Obishike Jaka

Erin Jaka

Tory (Noname)

Wasp Crest

Charlie Loen

Mae 'Sol's Maid' Auburn

Unnamed Parasite Cult Members

Tale Of A Trio (Old, Not A Lot Of Thought)

"I Love The Smell Of The Sea"

"People Think Being A Prince Would Be Fun"

"You Never Realise How Lucky You Are"

Mazes

Jen Pari

Dimitri Gin

Callie Farland

Matthew Coli

Ali Shan

Joseph Vack

Fiji Leav

Den Henny

Tic Layley

Ami (Noname)

Grunge (Noname)

The Announcer

The Few Of Us

Ian Raider

Currently Unnamed 'Friend' Of Ian

Findings Of The Supernatural

Milo Dust

Various Supernatural Creatures

Death, On Stage!

Issac _____

Nathan _____

Reed _____

Mary Silo

James _____

Elizabeth Smith

Issac, Nathan, and Reed's Parents

Sight

Noname Main Character

Right and Wrong

Jessie Breyner

Justice

Vengeance

Create 10 Loveable Characters, Kill 9

Alanna Crewett

Lukas Pardin

Carter Linchin

9yr Girl

12yr Demiboy

12yr Enby

14yr Demigirl

16yr Girl

17yr Trans Girl

21yr Agender

Purple Blade

Old Adventurer/Healer Mother

Lord Father

High Family Enby

Mysterious Woman

That Kids Show

12 Year Old MC

Mother

Shitty Stepfather

Shapeshifter

Video Game

Quinn Wither

[REDACTED] Wither

Nora Walker

Blake Mutters

Pine (Noname)

Oli Rands

Eclipse Covett

Clerical Mixup

Gear

Riley Bin

Riley's Shitty Parents

Random Teachers

Backround Students

Bullies

The First Day Of School (very old)

Unnamed Main Character

Rich Bitch

Quiet Kid

School Jock

Theater Kid

Gamer

Raging Enby

Jock's Best Friend

Scary Quiet Kid

Delinquent

Beaten Up Kid

Typical Female Bully

Two Idiots

Umcoming Karen

Whatever Teachers I Think Of

I Love You, Darling

Evan

Alex

Alex's Mother

Alex's Little Sister

Runaways

Leah Jive

Lee Jive

Jeremy Brandywine

Ted Brandywine

Found Family

Overall Asshole But Good Dad Energy

A Loveable Idiot/Smart But No Common Sense

A Not Entirely Human Traumatised Child

Bad Influence Older Sibling Vibes

Supernatural Creature Sticks Around As Pet

Chaotic Twins Who Summond Said Creature

Camera On/Shapeshifter

Amaya

Elaxie

Callie

Stones

Henry Smith-Oliver

Henry's Bad Parents

Henry's 5 Younger Siblings

Ryder Bennet

Ryder's Mother

James Rocker

Seperate Characters

Nora Jaylight/Nathan Randal

Witch CGI x Vampire Mistress- Rosalind Martius/Maria 'Mimi' Ze/Julia 'Jules' Suffolk, Rayne Cross/Rose Randal

The League Of Beastly Dreadfuls- Goat Shifter

Pokemon- Spencer, Team Rocket Jokester

Ship- Soft Runaway Painter x Graffitti Artist

Music- RätxKillerxLemon Boy

Death Wish- Iree Rivea, Ranna

Buried Alive- Ruckus, Voltage, Corrupt Hero Society

Comfort OC- Kiwi Ellison

BNHA- Bai Lumos, Kailee/Kale Venzie

Aren't You A Little Young- Aero, Vermillion

Stealing- Trail, Cross, Rain

It'd Be Faster- Boe, Hir/Jamie, Jaz

Gaurdian Of The Backdoor- The Gaurdian

Best Version- Noah Vin

Marioverse- Sorta Self Insert (Unwilling?) Villain

Dieties- Death, Romance, Curiosity, Earth, Weather

Dating Sim- Demon, Cyanide

Character- Shapeshifter 'Yinn'

Dungeons and Dragons- Zeria

OH MY STARS YOU DID IT /POS.

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recentanimenews · 2 years

Text

Aoashi English Dub Reveals Cast & Crew, Release Date

We're about to blow our orange whistle and get the game started for Aoashi's English dub, but before we can kick off on April 23 at 2:00pm Pacific Time, we have to warm up by running down the draft picks:

Cast

Ciarán Strange (Richard in Requiem of the Rose King) as Ashito Aoi

Eric Vale (Trunks in Dragon Ball Z Kai) as Tatsuya Fukuda

Marisa Duran (Lou/Louise in SHADOWS HOUSE) as Hana Ichijo

Monica Rial (Bulma in Dragon Ball Z Kai) as Noriko Aoi

Blake McNamara (Seth Rich Cutter in Appare-Ranman!) as Shun Aoi

Additional episode 1 cast:

Greg Silva as Futamihama Coach

Kim Morton as Kogure

Meg McClain as Nanami

Kelsey Maher as Sawa

Jennifer Alyx as Female Assistant 1A

Aaron Campbell as Goalie's Father

Nazeeh Tasha as Male Baishinji Player 1A, Male Spectator 1A

Ben Balmaceda as Male Baishinji Player 1B, Male Futamihama Player 1D

Alex Mai as Male Futamihama Player 1A, Male Spectator 1B

JR Joseph as Male Futamihama Player 1A

Paul Cline as Male Futamihama Player 1C, Male Underclassman 1A

Justin Green as Male Underclassman 1B

Crew

ADR Director: Shawn Gann

Assistant ADR Directors: Emi Lo & Marcus Stimac

Lead ADR Engineer: Paul Cline

Assistant ADR Engineers: Ian Emerson & Noah Whitehead

ADR Script Writer: Leah Clark

ADR Script Supervisor: Bonny Clinkenbeard

ADR Prep: Ry McKeand

ADR Mix Engineer: Matt Grounds

RELATED: Crunchyroll Reveals SimulDub Lineup for Spring 2022, First SPY x FAMILY Cast Details

Based on the manga by Yugo Kobayashi, Aoashi is directed by Akira Sato (RELEASE THE SPYCE) at studio Production I.G, with series composition by Masahiro Yokotani (Free! - Iwatobi Swim Club) and character designs by Toshie Kawamura (B-PROJECT).

If you're a fan of sports anime, don't miss Episode 1 of Aoashi's English dub when it drops on April 23 at 2:00pm PT, right here on Crunchyroll!

"I'll take you to the world." Ashito Aoi is a middle schooler who lives in Ehime, and the ace of an unremarkable soccer club. The day that they lost the final tournament of middle school, Ashito runs along the ocean in frustration, before running into a man who had been watching his game. That man is Tatsuya Fukuda, the coach of the high-school-aged Youth team of a leading J-League team, "Tokyo City Esperion FC." After sensing immense potential in Ashito's still-unrefined skills, he describes his ambition. "I want to build a team, and use it to take over the world. Our club isn't going to be a milestone for players who take on the world. Our club is going to be the world. And to make this happen, I'm going to need some 'aces' to train." After hearing Fukuda's offer, Ashito decides to head to Tokyo and try out for his team── Aoashi is considered the cutting edge of soccer manga, and now it's finally getting a TV anime adaptation! Loss, growth, and friendship: everything in youth is here!

Der shy man behind @Shymander, Liam is a timezone-fluid Aussie with a distinct fondness for anime, Eurovision and creating odd stats projects despite hating math.

By: Liam Dempsey

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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orphan-with-a-stutter · 4 years

Text

Master List

Newsies

Character x Character Imagines

Ralbert:

Best Friend

Spavid:

Sick Day

Sprace:

Movie Date

Davey x Crutchie:

Park Bench

Henry x Jojo

just-something-to-show-how-much-they-cared-jojo-x

X Reader Imagines

Albert:

Fort Battle

the broken

Extra! Extra! Released Newsie

Buttons:

Love hurts

The rock

Left Breathless

Buttons secret

Crutchie:

Tough

By faith

Davey:

The Violinist

Knowledge Gained

Elmer:

Visit to the Refuge

Henry:

Sweet Baking

Jack:

Us Together

The famous and badass (Jack Kelly x reader)

JoJo:

Thinking Back

Mike & Ike:

Let’s Get Drunk

Seeing Double

Mush:

Risk

Any Monday

Mini Golf

Oscar:

The Seventh Cell Block

Race:

Change

Sunset

Falling

I Choose you

Sketches and football

Happy with you

My Hercules

Pulitzer’s daughter

Christmas

She deserves the best

Tommy Boy:

Eastside Girl

Katherine:

Steal Her Away

Spot Conlon:

Spot’s Girl

Strike and poker

Series Imagines

Truck Ride (Tommy Boy x Buttons)

My Best Friend (JoJo x Buttons)

Skating Rink (JoJo x Kenny)

Nerves (Bill x Davey)

Dunkirk

Headcanons

Tommy x reader - after war

Peter x reader - dating

Best Friend’s sister

Dating Gibson after Dunkirk

Dating Gibson before the war

Imagines

Tommy:

Love and war - Tommy x reader

Love worth fighting for - Tommy x reader

Under the Willow - Tommy x reader

Late night troubles - Tommy x reader

War and it’s problems - Tommy x reader

Now We’re Even

Allies

Peter:

Friends and more - Peter x reader

Anniversary Morning - Peter x reader

Our Maze - Peter x reader

Jealousy in friendship - Peter x reader

Knight in shining armor

Gibson:

Extra room - Gibson x reader

The market (extra room part 2)

The lost friend (extra room part 3)

Don’t Fence Me In (Gibson)

A Hit of Faith

Alex:

Home - Alex x reader

Train of thought

Collins:

Just Friends - Collins x reader

Flight instructor

George:

Birthday - George x reader

Teen Wolf

Liam:

Not a curse

Peter Hale:

Line of questions

Teen wolf hc

characters in quarantine

Peaky Blinders

Finn Shelby:

Finn in danger

Anything for you

Workaholic (Finn Shelby x reader)

Business deal

Arrangements and Vendettas

Michael Gray:

Morning Michael

A couple of scouts (morning michael part 2)

Tommy Shelby:

Allies Daughter

The Reporter

No Gift

Like Home

People Always F**king Talk

Trust

John Shelby:

The parents

Drunk Words

Arthur Shelby:

Argument

Peaky Blinder HC

Tommy Shelby x Witch reader

Harry Potter/ Fantastic Beast/Next Gen

Newt:

Mistletoe

A Great Mgzoologist

Remus:

Willow and the lake

new-friendship-remus-lupin-x-reader-part-2-to

James Potter:

Falling

George Weasley:

Yes You Prankster

Because I like you

Teddy Lupin:

Silly Faces

Harry Potter HC

Seamus Finnigan dating a Slytherin girl

West Side Story

Riff:

The dance

Not impressed

Bernardo:

Peace

Outsiders

Ponyboy:

The DX

Two-Bit:

Right amount of change

Dallas Winston:

your secret (Dallas x reader)

Darry:

No Help from the Helpful

She’s Real (Darry x reader)

Soda:

Not Alone

Outsiders HC

Sodapop x reader HCs

Outsiders HCs wife/girlfriends are pregnant

Seven brides for seven brothers

Gideon:

The meeting

Frank:

Weird feelings and butterflies

Marvel

Bucky:

The Beginning of forever (bucky x reader)

Peter Parker:

All makes sense (Peter Parker x male reader)

BBC Merlin

Sir Leon:

Best Christmas Yet

Disney Descendents

Harry Hook:

The One pt1

The one pt2

The One pt3

1917

Joseph:

Photo of Memories (Joseph Blake x female reader)

Change in atmosphere (Joseph Blake x reader)

Tom:

We’re a team

Will:

Will x reader who is a member of the cavalry HC

Dark (Netflix):

Noah:

Alternative timeline - young Noah

Your Part

Young Noah HCs

Magnus:

Your first I love you

Jonas:

Dating Jonas Kahnwald HCs

Hunger Games

Peeta:

Stress of the Reaping

GIF Imagines

Star wars (Poe)

Disney Descendents (Harry Hook)

Harry Potter (Neville)

Dead Poets Society (Knox)

Peter Parker

Dunkirk (Tommy)

Peaky Blinders (Michael gray)

194 notes · View notes

arctichotch · 3 years

Text

hi ☺️! i’m interested in starting to write for criminal minds characters since over lockdown it’s become my whole life lmao and i have some free time.

so if you have any requests for headcanons/blurbs/fics then let me know the prompt and the character!

i’m only interested in writing x reader fics atm and will do female!reader or gn!reader.

i’ll write reader-insert for:

aaron hotchner

spencer reid

derek morgan

penelope garcia

alex blake

emily prentiss

luke alvez

(angst, fluff and maybe smut too depending on the request)

24 notes · View notes

literateish · 3 years

Text

writing guidelines + requests

hi! my requests are currently open.

some guidelines: please don’t request anything nsfw. if you request something that could be triggering, please provide trigger warnings in the request, and be aware that i may not write it if i feel uncomfortable writing about it, or if i feel like i’m not in the right position to (this also goes for issues that i may not have personally experienced).

who i write:

emily prentiss x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

alex blake x reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x emily prentiss

emily prentiss x jennifer jareau

but i’ll write for most characters, just these are the ones i’d prefer

for reader insert fics, i write both female reader or gender neutral reader, so if you have a preference, please let me know.

what i won’t write:

any romantic ship involving gideon or rossi (but i would write platonic)

romantic jeid (but i would write platonic jeid)

anything that makes me uncomfy - you can request stuff but i reserve the right to say no

please send requests! <3

#han’s navigation #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #alex blake x reader #spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jemily

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mccdreamys-writes · 11 days

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smiles for miles – 26. silence is never silent

take me back to understand, we deep inside our hearts know, we don't make the wind blow. - The Common Linnets, We Don't Make The Wind Blow

N O V E M B E R 1 8 T H 2 0 1 1

Last week, I found myself back in the lecture hall, a place I hadn't visited in a while. I had skipped teaching last semester because work had consumed all my time. With cases piling up, there was no room for academic pursuits. But now, with things settling down a bit, I felt drawn back to the world of academia.

Work felt strangely quiet this week, an eerie calm hanging over everything. It was the kind of silence that made you feel like something big was about to happen. In law enforcement, calm moments like these often signaled that a storm was brewing, something significant waiting just around the corner.

It reminded me of a superstition in emergency rooms—the belief that saying "It's a quiet night" could jinx things and bring chaos. It was as if acknowledging the peace invited trouble. Similarly, the quietness at work hinted at trouble ahead, a reminder that in our line of work, calm moments were often followed by chaos.

As I neared the end of my lecture, ready to dive into the details of next week's lesson, my phone buzzed on the desk, snapping me out of my academic focus. A message from JJ popped up, short and ominous: "We have a case and it's a bad one."

Letting out a sigh, I wrapped up the class, hastily ending my presentation as I headed for the door. The weight of responsibility settled over me like a thick blanket as I hurried to my car. The urgency of the situation pushed me forward, a grim determination driving me towards the office.

As we gathered in the conference room, there was a palpable sense of shock and determination hanging in the air. The images on the screen painted a horrifying picture: three bodies hanging from tree branches, their mutilated torsos, hearts torn from their chests, and their dignity stripped away with their genitals exposed for all to see. The chilling inscription above the macabre images simply read, 'Washington D.C.'

Garcia's voice broke through the solemn silence, her tone tinged with a sense of urgency and concern. "We're staying home today," she announced firmly, her words carrying a weight that left no room for doubt.

With a solemn expression, Garcia introduced each victim: Elijah Benedict, Alan Damon, and Philip DeJong. Their names echoed in the room, a reminder of the lives lost in this brutal act of violence. Ranging in age from forty-three to fifty, they were now reduced to mere statistics in a tragic tableau.

Morgan's words broke the tension, voicing what everyone was thinking. "Someone's got a grudge," he stated firmly, the seriousness of the situation evident in his tone. "This feels personal."

Rossi cut through the silence with a question that hung heavily in the air. "When did these attacks happen?" he inquired urgently, his concern palpable.

Hotch, as authoritative as ever, provided a grim timeline. "The first victim, a week ago," he began, each word weighed down by the severity of the situation, "the second, three days ago, and the last one, this morning." His words lingered in the room, a stark reminder of the swift and methodical nature of the assaults.

Garcia, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she accessed the chilling details, added to the grim narrative. "They were all held captive for at least a day," she concluded, her voice trembling slightly as she relayed the extent of the victims' suffering. "But no more than two, because in all three cases we have colleagues who can confirm they were at work at least two days prior."

"Do we have any connections between them?" JJ's question drew everyone's attention to Garcia, the team's digital expert.

"They all had more than just a thing for women," Garcia replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she dug deeper into the digital archives. "I'm still combing through their backgrounds for more connections or useful info. I'll keep you posted if I find anything important."

Despite the heaviness of the case weighing on us, the day wore on without any major breakthroughs. We'd spoken with the victims' families and colleagues, but hadn't uncovered much. Still, the urgency of the situation hung in the air, reminding us that time was ticking and another abduction could happen at any moment.

As I stepped into the familiar embrace of our home, weariness clung to my every step, burdening my shoulders with its weight. But the sight that greeted me at the table instantly lifted my spirits—a home-cooked meal, lovingly prepared by Maile, awaited me. It was a silent testament to her thoughtfulness and understanding, a gesture made all the more special by the fact that I had given her a heads-up about my return time.

The delicious aroma that filled the air hinted that Maile hadn't been the chef behind tonight's dinner—a fact that both amused and touched me deeply. Cooking wasn't her forte, something she freely admitted and often joked about. Despite her occasional forays into the kitchen, she knew her limitations well.

I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the thought of her valiant attempts, knowing the likely outcome. There had been times when I couldn't resist sneaking a taste of her creations while her back was turned. Yet, the results always reaffirmed her self-awareness; her dishes consistently fell short of culinary excellence, sparing me from any further taste-testing adventures.

But even in her culinary missteps, there was a certain charm—a willingness to try, despite knowing the odds were against her. It was just another endearing aspect of her personality, one that I cherished dearly and wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

"Hey," she greeted me with a radiant smile as I trudged wearily through the doorway, my exhaustion palpable in every step. Without a moment's hesitation, she gracefully relieved me of my burdens, gently setting aside my bag, and enveloping me in a comforting embrace. In the sanctuary of her arms, I felt the weight of the day slowly lift, soothed by the rhythmic beat of her heart that seemed to echo my own.

"Thank you," I whispered gratefully, my voice a mere breath as I leaned into her embrace. "I needed that."

Her response was simple yet profound, spoken with genuine sincerity. "Anytime."

With a gentle nudge, she guided me toward the table, her touch a comforting caress against my weary frame. "Now, let's eat," she urged softly, her voice carrying a warmth that seeped into my bones. "Tell me all about your day, and then let's just relax together tonight. No agenda, no worries—just us, unwinding and being together."

Her words, infused with a sense of tranquility, promised an evening of solace away from the chaos of the outside world. As I settled into my seat, the enticing aroma of the meal she had prepared enveloped me, coaxing forth a sense of contentment and gratitude. It was in these simple moments, shared within the comforting embrace of our home, that I found sanctuary and peace amidst life's trials.

She made every hardship of the day worthwhile.

As evening draped its comforting embrace around us, we settled snugly onto the couch, cocooned in its warmth. My fingers wove delicate patterns through her hair, offering a gentle caress that sought to soothe her troubled mind. In the hush of the moment, I broached a question, my voice a mix of curiosity and care.

"Are you starting to remember things?" I asked softly, my words hanging in the air, stirring up a sense of unease within her.

"It's coming back in flashes," she confessed in a quiet voice, the weight of her inner conflict heavy in her words. "But I don't want to, Alex." Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting the turmoil raging inside her, a silent testament to the overwhelming emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

With gentle care, I wiped away the tears from her cheeks, hoping for my touch to bring comfort to her raw emotions. Pulling her closer, I wrapped her in my embrace, our legs intertwined, my chest against her back, and my chin nestled in the curve of her neck.

My words flowed softly, like a soothing breeze in the night. "It's a good thing, Smiles," I murmured, my voice a gentle caress against her ear. "You need to process, and why not now? You're not alone. I am here."

"I am scared," she admitted, feeling the weight of her vulnerability in her words. "I don't want to be. I mean, I don't even have the right to. Look at what you're facing at work every day-"

Before she could finish her self-deprecating thoughts, I interrupted, my voice firm but kind. "Don't go there. Don't belittle your pain because you feel like someone else's is worse," I urged, my gaze locking with hers, unwavering in its intensity. "You can't feel their pain, and they can't feel yours. You have every right to be in pain."

I planted a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, my touch offering solace to the swirling turmoil in her mind. With a deep breath, she found the courage to open up about the memories that had started to come back to her.

"I remember hearing more voices," she admitted softly, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to transport herself back to that time. "Not just James and Ira. Other voices, but I can't place them. At first, I thought they might be part of your team, but they're not. I can't remember how many there were, or if I even saw them. I just knew they were there."

I held her close, my warmth surrounding her like a shield, as I pressed another kiss to her temple, offering comfort and reassurance. Feeling my support, she continued, "There were at least two other men," her voice trembling with uncertainty and unease. Each word dredged up memories she'd buried deep down.

"That's good", I said with genuine admiration, a soft smile gracing my lips as I gazed at her. "You did good, baby."

N O V E M B E R 1 9 T H 2 0 1 1

As I stepped into the bustling bullpen, the familiar symphony of activity surrounded me—the rhythmic tapping of keyboards, the rustle of papers, and the murmur of voices blending into a harmonious cacophony. In the midst of this organized chaos, Hotch emerged like a captain navigating through turbulent waters, his purposeful stride signaling an imminent discussion. "Alex," he called out, his voice authoritative yet welcoming. "Can I have a word?"

His unexpected request sent a shiver of apprehension down my spine as I followed him to his office, my mind swirling with questions about the nature of our impending conversation. Despite my uncertainty, I complied, trailing behind him as we entered the sanctum of his private workspace. The soft click of the door closing behind us added a weight of seriousness to the atmosphere, intensifying the gravity of what was to come.

Seated across from each other, Hotch's usually composed demeanor was tinged with an unusual solemnity as he retrieved a file from his desk. A sense of foreboding settled over me, a knot tightening in the pit of my stomach. "We've identified the DNA found at the crime scene," he began, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

My exhaustion seemed to deepen as I struggled to comprehend the significance of his revelation. "And why are we discussing this privately?" I inquired cautiously, my mind racing to grasp the implications. "Why just you and me?"

Hotch's expression remained unreadable as he delivered the bombshell that left me reeling. "Because," he began, his voice steady, "it matches Maile's DNA."

A wave of disbelief washed over me, threatening to drown out all rational thought. Panic surged through me as the weight of his words settled in. "I should never have uttered those words," I berated myself silently, the casual remark I made earlier now haunting me with its unforeseen consequences.

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geniusgub · 4 years

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north//chapter three

here’s the new chapter!! please enjoy and leave me your feedback! as always, let me know if you want to be on the taglist by sending me an ask :)

genre: fluff, angst if u squint

pairing: season nine spencer reid x female oc

warnings: none

word count: 11.3k

SPENCER

The elevator doors pop open on the sixth floor on a bright, sunny day, and the smile on my face is the biggest it’s ever been and I don’t think there’s any way I’ll be able to wipe it off. This morning, Amelia confessed that she had never seen Doctor Who before, and then she encouraged me to ramble on and on about my favorite parts and favorite characters and she asked questions and my smile never went away, even as we said our goodbyes and through the dirty train ride. But having seen Amelia will make my day better and the walk to my desk seems so much brighter and happier than normal.

"Good morning, Spencer," Alex smiles at me as she passes my desk, setting her bag down and sending me a wave.

"Morning," I return her smile, taking the last sip of the coffee from my cup, the one from my meeting with Amelia, giving it one more longing look before tossing the cup in the trash.

Alex watches me closely as she sheds her jacket and scarf, draping it over her chair. "Weather's rough, right? It's getting really cold,"

I spin in my chair and my eyes trace up to where the wall and the ceiling meet, staring out the windows there. "Yeah, it's pretty rough out there,"

"Christmas is soon though," a smile comes to her face as she sits and takes a breath. "Do you have any plans yet? Do you think you'll go to see your mom?"

I shrug my shoulders and push away the sharp pain in my chest at the mention of my mom and at the mention of such a joyous holiday that’s supposed to be filled with friends and family. But instead, I’ll do the same things I’ve done the last few years- sit by myself at home and reread a book from my shelf. "Not sure yet. Haven't really thought about it,"

Alex hums, not pleased with that answer, and spins her chair around to face her desk. "Okay, well, don't wait too long or else you won't have any plans, and nobody should be left alone on Christmas," I choose not to respond. I just turn my chair back to face my desk and get to work.

"Good morning, wonderful crime fighters!" Garcia exclaims, bounding into the bullpen as Morgan holds the door open for her. Her bubbly attitude brings JJ and Rossi over to my desk area and even though I was trying to avoid any conversation, I spin in my chair to join the circle that forms. "I've brought cookies to lighten the mood that this horrible, horrible cold weather is reigning down on you BAU-tiful people," she grins happily at her recycled pun as she pops the top off the tin in her hand. Everyone, except for me because group food is not and has never been my jam, reaches their hands in and grabs some cookies, mumbling a few thank yous to our dear friend.

"So what's up with everyone?" Morgan asks, glancing around at the team. "We're always together but we don't always get to talk about our lives. So, come on, I know someone's got something,"

There's a moment of silence between the team where everyone wants someone else to speak up first, especially me. I wish I could duck my head down and hide under my desk because I know they will all want to ask me about what’s going on in my life and I'm not ready to tell them yet, and I’m not the best liar. I want to keep Amelia a secret. I want to keep her for myself. But if I try to make myself smaller in any way, then a team of profilers will notice immediately and I'll get called out. It's a lose-lose for me. And maybe it's irrational to want to keep her my secret. Last time I did that, it didn't end well and I’ve never forgiven myself for that. But even still, I want to keep Amelia for myself.

"Well," JJ laughs when nobody speaks up, "Will and I took Henry to the zoo for the first time over the weekend and he absolutely loved it,"

That brings everyone into a conversation and I'm glad I can let my mind wander off to Amelia. She always looks beautiful, but she looked especially stunning today. She wore plaid jeans with a black sweater tucked in, a black knit scarf, and her normal black boots. Of course, she had a black peacoat on to shield her from the weather, and the strap of her camera was slung over her shoulder instead of around her neck. Her hair was up in this messy braided updo that I don't even want to spend time wondering how long it took her to execute. Her nail color changed for the millionth time, now to a pale blue. Her necklace was almost completely hidden behind her scarf but I noticed that she wears the same one every day, a small butterfly. But today, there was just something about her smile and her laugh that made me feel extra warm inside. It made me feel like I wanted to scoop her up and bring her back to my apartment and never let her leave.

"Reid? Hey, Reid!" There's suddenly a hand snapping in front of my face, bringing me out of yet another one of my daydreams.

Everyone has vacated the area and Alex is crouched in front of me, brows furrowed in confusion. I lift my head, blinking a few times to bring myself back to reality. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Alex tilts her head, resting her arms on her legs. "Are you okay? You haven't been yourself lately. You've been a little bit distracted," she sighs and I can tell that she's wondering if she should say something. She ultimately makes a decision in her head to not say it and instead just waits for me to answer. But her holding back her thoughts frustrates me. I thought we were close so why would she hold anything back from me? When has she ever held anything back from me?

"Say what you were gonna say," I insist, sitting up more in my chair. "You were gonna say something. Say it,"

Alex chews on her lips and lets out a long breath, glancing around to make sure that nobody is too close. "Well," she hesitates one more time, "I know that you're still hurting about Maeve and-"

"No," I cut her off before she can even finish her sentence, "it's not about that. It's-" I push my hair out of my face as my breath gets caught in my throat. I take a replenishing breath and shake my head, turning back to the paperwork on my desk, "I'm fine, okay? I promise. Thanks for, uh, looking out for me,"

"Maybe you should consider going to therapy," Alex is clearly not ready to let this conversation go.

"I'm fine," I say yet again, giving her a tight-lipped smile, not even glancing her way again.

I hear Blake sigh and then walk around, seeing her sit down at her desk. There's part of me that feels bad for being so secretive to my closest friends. But I want to keep Amelia for myself. The team likes to know everything and they like to bring up significant others all the time. I don't want Amelia brought up like that. I don't want Morgan teasing me about her, or Garcia insisting on a double date, or JJ wanting to know how we met. But besides, Amelia isn't even my girlfriend. Right now, she's just a girl that I get coffee with before work. I wish she was more, but she's not.

Garcia comes back into the bullpen, holding a hoard of IPads in her arms and one case file for me. "It's case time, my loves!"

There’s a collective sigh that falls over the group as everyone pushes themselves out of their seats and towards the round table room, ready to endure another day of sadness. There’s no good day to get cases but really, there couldn’t be a worse time to get a case. Amelia and I ran out of time this morning and her story about the time her and her best friend got lost in California on a spring break vacation got cut short, and she promised to finish it tomorrow. She also swore that I could tell her all about my time at CalTech and about my favorite classes, all while she lets me fiddle around with whichever camera she happens to bring that day, even though I could possibly break it. I mean, she couldn’t get any more amazing. Technology is not my strong suit, whether it’s a computer or a phone or even a camera, but she’s still going to let me tinker with it. I didn’t think that she could get any better.

After the catastrophe with Maeve, I never thought I'd ever have feelings for another person again. I thought that I'd die alone and loving Maeve. I thought she was my soulmate. I thought that the connection we had was one in a million and that I would never connect with someone on a romantic level again. Seeing her die right in front of me was like no other death I had ever witnessed and nobody, including and especially me, thought I would ever recover from that.

As much as I don't want to admit it and as adamantly as I will deny it, I've been through a lot. Childhood aside, my work at the FBI has been grueling. I've been taken hostage, I've mourned the death of my best friend who actually wound up to be alive and I’ve mourned the death of my unit chiefs wife, I've conquered drug addiction and two relapses alone, I’ve spent months mulling over the death of my girlfriend, and I've seen more death, destruction, and horror than anyone ever should.

It's unfair, really. All I wanted to do with my life and with my career was to help people and do something bigger than myself, but in turn, I've ruined myself. And after everything I've seen and how it has changed me, I’ve been expecting to work myself to death and die alone. I'm a loose cannon and it's obvious. I try to keep myself reined in, but I know that won't last for long. The years that I’ve spent at the FBI have imprinted on my brain and I thought that Maeve would be my refuge, but she was ripped away from me. Then and there, I knew that I would never love again.

But then Amelia waltz's into my life. She comes bouncing in with her black heels, vintage cameras, tea bags, nose piercing, beautiful smile, and melodious laugh. She makes me feel like a normal person. She doesn't treat me like an FBI agent, or like someone who has endured the traumas that I have, and maybe that's because I haven't told her about any of my trauma, but I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. Amelia comes laughing into my life with her denim skirts that aren't appropriate for the cold weather, curly blonde hair wrapped in patterned scarves or tied back in scrunchies, love for red wine, entrancing blue eyes, and her affinity for strawberries.

It's impossible to not fall in love with her and I hate myself for that. She makes it incredibly easy, so maybe it's not my fault that I can't get her out of my head. Maybe it's not my fault that I look at the empty spot on my desk and wonder what it would be like to have a picture of her there. Maybe it's not my fault that I hold her pinky in mine for far too long when we say our goodbyes. I wish I could blame my feelings all on her. I wish I could blame Amelia for how fast I'm falling for her.

I fall in love with the energy she radiates. I fall in love with the way she speaks of her creative process while painting a new piece or drawing a new picture. I fall in love with the way she claims she has a foolproof formula for finding hidden treasures in any given thrift store. I fall in love with the way she always has a new story to tell yet listens to every word I have to say. She speaks with such passion and fire in her eyes that it draws me in. Amelia has even taken to setting an alarm on her phone to make sure I leave on time for work and every few days, she makes sure to show up before I do so that she can order both of our drinks so that it's not always me ordering for her and "wasting my money on her hot, flavored water."

Amelia and I keep up our morning coffee meetings for two months. We meet as much as we can, only taking the time off when I'm not away on a case. It's actually normalizing my sleep schedule too and I'm getting more sleep than I have in two years- or since Maeve died. When these meetings started, I used to not be able to sleep out of pure excitement of knowing I'd be able to see Amelia again. But then she started to text me the night before, sometimes to remind me to set an alarm so I'm not late or to remind me to bring a magic trick to show her (magic tricks are now common occurrences in the mornings) or to just tell me that she's looking forward to seeing me tomorrow. It’s always an odd sensation to get that third text because most people aren’t usually excited to see me.

The word date never surfaced in any of our conversations. I'm not sure if any of these meetings would be considered a date. Typically, dates happen at night, but these coffee meetings are happening bright and early in the morning. And maybe I'm too scared to even bring up the word date because then that will solidify what we're doing, if we even are doing anything. I'm too scared to admit that I'm falling way too hard and way too fast for Amelia.

But as terrified as I am of the way that I feel about Amelia, I wish so desperately that I wasn’t. I wish I could climb to the roof of my apartment building and scream at the top of my lungs that I’m falling in love and that I want everyone to know. I want to be able to see her outside of the confines of a tiny cafe just a block away from my apartment. I want to be able to see her out on the town, laughing and bouncing on her toes in the adorable way that she does. I want to do anything else in the world with her besides just sitting and drinking tea or coffee. I want to know even more about her. I want to know absolutely everything. I need to know everything.

ONE WEEK LATER

SPENCER

"So you got shot in the knee?"

"Yeah. The doctors told me that I might never walk without a cane again,"

"I'd like to see you with a cane," Amelia snorts, tucking her face behind her cup of tea as she succumbs to a fit of giggles. The sight makes me laugh too, trying to hide my joy behind my cup of coffee. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. It's just-" she takes a long breath to calm herself, and, with a giant smile, she continues, "an FBI agent with a cane? I can't picture it,"

"Well, I wouldn't be allowed in the field. As much as I thrive in the police departments, I love being in the field. It gives you a rush, you know?"

"Mm, no. I don't know," Amelia laughs, "but I can imagine what you're talking about. An adrenaline rush. I've never caught a bad guy in action like you do. I mean, the closest I've ever come to that is catching one of my siblings stealing cookies late at night,"

A fond memory comes to mind, one involving a dinosaur-shaped cookie jar and a little hand. "I've caught my godson doing the same,"

"So, Spencer," Amelia's voice is lighter as she moves away from the previous topic of me taking a bullet in the field. She shimmies her shoulders just a little bit, then gestures to the Christmas drawings on the window. "Do you have any plans for Christmas next week?"

Oh, the dreaded question. Each of my team members had asked me that during our case last week and I had to lie every single time. I don't want them to feel bad for me when I tell them I don’t have any plans and I’ll be spending Christmas alone. Alex might try to invite me to dinner with her family, and JJ would probably do the same and swear that Henry had been asking about his godfather, but it's just out of pure pity. I don't need any more pity from my team.

"Um," I have to keep my voice from cracking as I drown out myself in a sip of coffee, "no,"

"No?" Amelia repeats, but her face doesn't change at all, not like she’s sad or she’s pitying me. "Me either. I told you, my family's in Texas and I'd only be able to go out there for two days. So as much as I'd love to go, it doesn't really make sense, you know?"

"Yeah, that makes sense. My mom is in Las Vegas so I know what you mean,”

Amelia looks down at her cup of tea, fiddling with the teabag. "You know, if you don't have anything to do on Christmas, maybe we could spend the day together?" She suggests, glancing up at me with a nervous smile. "I was planning on spending the day alone but if you also don't have anything to do, maybe we could do something together," she goes quiet for a moment and I wait, wondering if she's finished with her request. Or maybe it’s just that I’m speechless and I have absolutely nothing to say in response to that request. Yeah, that’s more likely. She, again, looks down at her cup and I can see her fingers shaking slightly as she toys with the teabag. "And besides, I love our little coffee dates but it'd be nice to see you outside of here,"

And there it is. It all comes out with just those few sentences. Not only does Amelia see these meetings as dates, but she wants to see me outside of the cafe. She wants to spend Christmas with me, a day that you usually spend with your family or your closest friends. She was so nervous to ask me about this that her hands are shaking. When has this ever happened? Usually I'm the anxious one. I'm the one here who does the nervous laughing and fumbles over my words and taps my feet and fiddles with my hair. She's usually the one who takes charge of the conversation and laughs louder and initiates our pinky hold when we have to say goodbye. Being anxious is my thing and if Amelia is taking that over, then that must mean that this request took a lot to say.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she adds quickly before hiding, again, behind a sip of her tea.

I’ve let myself hold back with Amelia for far too long- for two whole months. I’ve gone two months without growing some balls and asking her out and I can’t handle it anymore. I need to see her with a different background behind her other than a tan leather booth. So I don’t give myself a moment to think or stress before I speak. "I'd love to,"

Amelia's eyes dart up to me and her smile starts to grow. "Really?" I nod wordlessly, too scared that I'll say something dumb and ruin it if I open my mouth. "I would've thought you'd say no," The alarm on Amelia's phone goes off, telling us that it's time for me to leave for work. She gives me a sad smile and silences it, chewing on her lip. "Time for you to go. You've got people to save, Dr. Reid,"

The two of us stand and wrap ourselves in our coats and scarves before heading out the door, into the bitter, cold wind. Amelia turns on her heel and holds out her pinky to me. I switch my coffee to my left hand and wrap my right pinky around her, watching her nose start to go pink from the weather surrounding us. Amelia smiles, and the timer in my head starts to run, counting up the seconds we stand in front of each other and just smile. We’re already standing here longer than yesterday but not as long as Tuesday two weeks ago. And the longer we stand here, the pinker Amelia’s nose gets, and the more my heart melts.

"Get warm soon," I tell her softly, worried that if I speak too loud, I’ll ruin the moment.

"You too," she smiles, wrapping her finger even tighter around mine as a way to tell me not to leave just yet. "I know you'll let me know if you have a case. But if you do," she lets out a breath, dropping her smile until her dimples disappear, "get home before Christmas."

///

I inhale deeply and brush my fingers through my hair, trying to make it seem somewhat presentable as I turn the corner to Amelia's apartment, double-checking that I'm at the right one. I smooth down my sweater and check that my converse are tied twice before knocking on the door. I can hear music from inside her apartment but I can't tell exactly what the song is yet, but based on what today is, I can only assume it’s a Christmas song.

I wait patiently for a moment behind a closed door, still second-guessing my slightly more casual outfit of converse, jeans, and a Christmas sweater. And after only a minute I'm convinced that Amelia has backed out and doesn't want me around for this sacred holiday, and I’m almost convince o turn around and leave. Maybe I could walk home and find a bookstore and get some takeout. I'm about to do just that and I’m mentally mapping out the best route home when the door swings open and Amelia stands there with her stunning smile.

"Hi, Spencer!" She exclaims, popping the door all the way open and letting me feel the heat that radiates from the inside. "Come in, please," Relief washes over me as I step inside her warm apartment, my eyes darting around the walls and decor of her home. "You can just put your stuff anywhere. It doesn't really matter to me. Make yourself at home. Be comfortable," I recognize the song now as It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas, playing from her beloved record player that I’ve heard a surprising amount about. She bought it when she first moved to Virginia and it was the first thing she bought for her apartment, before she even bought a bed or food or utensils.

I pull my messenger bag off and set it beside the door, ridding myself of my peacoat and my scarf, hanging them up on the coatrack. Amelia is still standing beside me but before I take the time to admire her like I usually do, I really stop to look at her apartment. It's exactly how I pictured it to be. It reflects her personality perfectly.

The walls are comprised of dark brick and there are different pieces of artwork scattered along the walls of her entire apartment, like stray photographs and polaroids put up with wash tape, or a canvas painting in a frame, and a floral tapestry behind the television. To my left is a huge shelf of books and records followed by a wall full of picture frames with pictures I can only assume are of her family and friends. To the right of the door is a cozy looking living room with a tv and the active record player, and a fireplace with a log already lit. Beside the living room is the kitchen, and across from the kitchen is a set of floating stairs that leads up to what I presume is Amelia's bedroom. In front of the stairs is a door out to a small balcony overlooking the city.

"Hey," Amelia reaches over and pokes my shoulder, laughing, "stop profiling my apartment. I cleaned up for you, there can't be too much for you to judge,"

"Profiling isn't actually judging, per se," I blurt out facts before I can stop myself. "Profiling is actually just noticing behavior,"

Amelia crosses her arms over her chest, etching on a smile. "Sometimes I wonder how your head isn't physically bigger with all that information you've got stored up in there. Really, it keeps me up at night sometimes," she says quickly, and then rolls her eyes at herself. She gestures towards the kitchen, "Well, I've got- oh, Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas,” I echo, following her into her kitchen, trailing just a step behind her.

As she walks in front of me, I get the chance to admire her. Today, she's decided to wear a black and white plaid tweed skirt with a red knit turtleneck tucked into it. Her legs are bare otherwise but she's wearing dark wool socks with a pattern on them, almost identical to the ones I’m wearing. Her hair is down in curls and flowing down to her waistline, but there's a green clip on the left side of her head that's holding back some of her hair. Her face is glowing, like usual, and her nose and ear piercings are in, like usual. It takes me a moment to realize how much smaller she is now that she's not wearing the heels she always has on. I'd peg her at around 5'2" and that's a major difference with me at about 6'1”. But even though I’ve observed countless outfits of hers, she's just as beautiful today as she is every other day.

"So I thought that, since it's only noon, we could make some Christmas cookies," she suggests, showing me her kitchen island full of cookies and bags and ingredients. "I have ingredients for quite a lot of cookies because I meant to make them myself but never got around to it. I have ingredients for gingerbread cookies and sugar cookies and oatmeal cookies and probably way more,"

"Sounds good to me. I like all of those,” The thought of making all those cookies with Amelia sounds much better than sitting and doing nothing. I don’t have time to make cookies like this on my own and I didn’t get to have any of Penelope’s, so making cookies with Amelia sounds like the perfect way to spend Christmas.

Amelia sits down at a barstool and gestures for me to sit beside her, and it’s a weird sensation, for a split second, to be sitting beside her instead of across from her. She reaches for a bag of flour and a bowl, but her hand stops midair when she looks over at me and a smile breaks out on her face. "I like your sweater,"

I glance down at my sweater, just shrugging at my own appearance as if I wasn’t freaking out about it ten minutes ago. "It's just a sweater," It’s one that I’ve had for as long as I can remember and one that could probably pass as ugly, but it has a pattern with snowflakes and stripes and reindeer. I almost didn’t wear it because I thought that maybe Amelia would think it was ugly.

"But Spencer, I always see you in your work clothes. You're always wearing sweater vests and button-ups. You're still wearing jeans and converse but the sweater is a change. I like it, that's all,"

She turns her back to me to grab something else and her compliment makes me chew on the inside of my cheek. I wipe my hands on my pants before I take a deep breath. You can do it, Spencer. You grew enough balls to accept her Christmas invitation. You can do this. "I like your outfit," Oh thank god I managed to say that without sounding like a total idiot.

When Amelia turns back around to set the sugar on the counter, she's blushing. "Thanks,"

I read over the recipes she has printed out and then set them aside, standing up again so I can attempt to start helping her. We decide to start with the Pillsbury sugar cookies since all we have to do is put those in the oven, so we start arranging them on a tray.

"I should warn you," I mumble to Amelia as we bump hips, "I'm not the best baker,"

"It's not too hard," Amelia says nonchalantly. "I'll give you some tips. A smart man like you can pick it up, don't worry, love,"

The simple pet name makes me blush but we're both so preoccupied with putting the frozen cookies on the tray that Amelia doesn't notice. The simple pet name makes my heart beat faster and almost burst out of my chest. Once the cookies are on the tray, she puts them in the oven and then turns to me.

"Okay, which cookies do you wanna make first?" She grabs the recipes and holds them up for me to see as if I hadn’t looked at them before.

"What do you think we should do?" She looks up at me with her big, beautiful eyes, and I almost get lost for a moment, but I pull myself back when she rustles the papers again. "I've never done this before and you seem to have a lot of experience so-"

"You've never made Christmas cookies before?" Amelia gasps, the papers falling onto the table as her jaw drops in disbelief, and I shake my head at her. "Okay, then we're gonna make gingerbread cookies first because they’re a classic. They're my favorite and they're the most fun to decorate so hopefully you’ll like them too. I can't believe you've never done this before!"

She whips around and starts to assemble a new set of ingredients, telling me now and then how much to measure out, even though I've memorized the entire recipe. But nonetheless, I let her take the lead and take the previous cookies out of the oven.

"Okay, come here," Amelia says when my back is turned to her. She has the gingerbread dough rolled out on the island and a few different sized molds laid out, flour caked on her hands. "Getting the dough onto the pan is an art itself," I let out a little laugh, but then she turns her head with a threatening look as if to say I’m serious, that isn't threatening at all. "I'm serious. First, you've gotta use the mold to cut. Then you've gotta wiggle the mold. Then you've gotta get the dough off the counter and that's the hardest part because if you didn't put down enough flour then you’re screwed. It's an art. You laugh, but it's true,"

"I believe you," I put my hands up in surrender, reaching for one of the molds. I stand beside her and it takes me a moment to process how close I actually am, and I only do when I feel her body heat on me. "So, like this?" I push the mold into the dough and then wiggle the plastic back and forth until it's completely separated from the mass of dough, just like she told me to. But then when I lift the mold, the snowflake-shaped piece of dough completely lifts and folds over, ruining the dough. I let out a defeated sigh, looking up at Amelia with a dramatic pout, silently begging for help. "It is an art,"

Amelia giggles, bopping my nose, and I can feel some flour residue getting left there, making me scrunch up my nose. "Yes, it is. I'm glad you've realized, let me help you,"

///

An hour passes and we've finished baking all the gingerbread men, we're baking chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, and we've eaten half of the sugar cookies. We're chatting aimlessly about anything and everything and I'm starting to really actually enjoy this. I’m happy to be seeing Amelia outside of the cafe and I’m happy to be so comfortable with her, and to see her literally and metaphorically let her hair down. I thought I would be riddled with anxiety and would have to make some excuse to go rushing out, but now I don’t think I ever want to go home. I would be content with never leave this artsy apartment and making cookies with Amelia for the rest of my life.

"I'm gonna try to make you but as a gingerbread man," Amelia says as she sits down with a piping bag full of icing and half of the gingerbread men. I've got the other bag of icing in my hand and the other half of the gingerbread men in front of me, waiting to be decorated with far less finesse than Amelia’s cookies.

"You're an artist. You've got an unfair advantage," I pout yet again, starting to make uneven lines and lopsided eyes on my cookies. I grimace at my creations and my pout only grows when I glance over and see that Amelia’s look perfect.

"It's not a competition," Amelia responds, not even looking up from her interpretation of me in gingerbread form. "And remember what I said, everyone sees art differently. There’s no right or wrong in art,” she lets out a small squeal and then throws her piping bag down, leaning closer to me to show me the cookie. “Look! It’s you!”

The gingerbread man has an attempt at curly hair along with a button-up shirt, a tie, slacks, and converse. Honestly, the cookie version of me is pretty cute, but maybe I’m biased because Amelia made it. Amelia is elated at my pleased reaction and goes on to decorating more cookies, so I prop up her creation and keep on going.

I settle into my barstool and keep my eyes down, swinging my feet back and forth. There's a question on the tip of my tongue that I'm too scared to ask. It's been there for weeks. But this question implies follow up questions about me and I don't want to risk that. But I’ve been pondering this question since I met Amelia and I think that I would be willing to risk the follow-up questions if it means I get some sort of answer.

"Amelia," I say quietly, earning a hum in response, "I have a question,"

"Yeah?" She's soft-spoken, clearly focused on her cookies.

"Why don't you talk about your family?"

I look up just in time to see her grip on the piping bag falter, and she has to readjust her hold. But before she can do that, her hand reaches for the butterfly necklace that's forever around her neck and she tugs on it gently. That tells me that the necklace has a connection to her family, I just don't know how. Nope. Stop it right there. She told me when I came in to stop profiling her, even though it was clearly a joke, I shouldn’t start doing it now.

"I, um," she lets out a breath and lets her eyes wander behind me, presumably at the wall of picture frames, "I just don't really like to talk about my family," that's all she says before she goes quiet. She readjusts her grip on the piping bag and goes back to work, deciding the conversation is over. Heat rises to my cheeks and my anxiety increases when I realize that my curiosity has gotten the better of me and I’ve ruined the good thing we have going on here with that simple question. So I just decide to shut my mouth and keep decorating my cookies. "You don't talk about your family either,"

It’s the question I was dreading, but it’s the one I was expecting. So I just shrug my shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. "You're not the only one who doesn't like to talk about their family,"

Amelia doesn't respond to that. It's one of the first times in our two months of knowing each other that I've seen her act shut off. The only time she ever acted out of character was asking if I would come over today, and she was only a little bit nervous for a few minutes. She's always so bubbly and open to any question or topic I have, so to have her sitting as close as ever but feel so far away is frustrating and the need to fill the grave I just dug myself.

"Amelia, I didn't mean to offend you with-"

"No, it's okay," she shakes her head, once again, her fingers adjusting around the piping bag. "It's a common thing that people talk about and I've never brought it up and you're a profiler so naturally, you would bring it up. It's fine, Spencer. I promise,"

"It doesn't seem fine. You're not even looking at me,"

"You're profiling me again," Amelia responds, her voice wavering.

I put my piping bag down and move closer to her, gently taking hers out of her hand and placing it down on the table. "Amelia, I-I didn't mean anything by it. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to,"

She looks up at me and I can see that her eyes are glassy, and it stings to know that I’m the one who made her feel like that. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean to be doing this on Christmas," She sniffles, reaching her fingertips up to wipe at her under-eyes. I have an overwhelming need to comfort her back to happiness, especially since I made her so unhappy. So even though my hands shake in the slightest, I hold my arms out towards her. Amelia notices right away, her eyebrows raising. "Seriously?" I nod. "You won't shake or hold my hand but you'll hug me?"

"You need a hug so I'm here to give you a hug,"

Amelia’s face lights up and she steps forward, wrapping her arms around my waist tightly. I circle my arms around her shoulders and tuck her head under my chin, smiling at the way she fits perfectly under me. This is comfortable and I feel warm and when she wiggles her body to get closer, it brings a smile to my face. I feel safe. I haven't felt like this is a long time. I might never want to let go, but I think Amelia might have the same idea.

"Does this mean I get to hug you more often now?" Amelia mumbles into the fabric of my sweater. "Don't get me wrong, I love our pinky promises but I also love hugs,"

My eyelids flutter closed and I nod against her head. "Yeah, we can hug more often," I flatten my hands on her back and pull her closer. "I really am sorry about asking about your family,"

"Well, I brought yours up afterward so it's fine,"

We're only pulled apart when the timer on the oven dings and lets us know that the oatmeal cookies are finished. I reluctantly pull myself off of her and grab the oven mitts, pulling the tray out while Amelia returns to frosting her gingerbread men.

"Hey, Spencer?" Amelia calls as I'm scooping cookies off the pan. "Do you have any information about gingerbread men in your big genius head?"

She asked, so I answered. I go off and tell her how gingerbread men date back to the 15th Century and how the first documented use of them was at the court of Elizabeth I. I go on for maybe ten minutes about the history of these edible men and maybe it's more than she was bargaining for, but she never interrupted and she listened to the whole thing. That's rare these days. Even my closest friends on my team cut me off constantly and sometimes tune out my facts.

"I didn't know any of that. School really doesn't teach students anything they wanna learn about," Amelia laughs, adding two more gingerbread men to the pile of cookies.

We finish creating our mountain of different types of cookies at around 4 so we decide that we should start making dinner, that way, we can relax the rest of the night and not have to be rushing around the kitchen. The sun starts to set and the snow starts to fall as we set out on a new adventure of cooking dinner. Amelia goes to turn up the heat and I notice her take a moment to pause in front of the balcony doors to stare out at the fresh blanket of snow. But the second she turns and comes back to the kitchen, I whip my head down to the lasagna recipe in my hands to memorize it. Yet again, I decide to let Amelia take charge of this recipe because I would rather not mess it up.

///

We pop our tray of lasagna in the oven and then set a timer for the proper amount of time. "Alright," Amelia says, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her toes, "that'll be done in about twenty-five minutes. So maybe we could watch a movie? We've been baking all day so it'd be a good idea to get off our feet,"

It’s a no brainer to agree to the suggestion and I follow Amelia into her living room like a lost puppy with his tail between his legs. She gestures for me to sit on the couch while she drops to the floor in front of the tv, sitting up on her knees to shut off the record player. Then she pulls out a wicker basket filled to the brim with movies. "What are we watching?"

"I've got plenty of Christmas movies because they're my favorite. I've got ones like," she holds up the case to each movie as she names it, "Polar Express, The Grinch, Home Alone, Elf, Love Actually, A Christmas Story and way, way more. Plus I've got the claymation ones like Year Without a Santa Claus, Rudolph, Jack Frost, Frosty the Snowman, and Santa Claus is Coming to Town," she looks up at me. "So which one do you fancy, love?"

There's that damn pet name again.

"Um," I let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of my neck, "I've actually never seen any of those before so I guess just put on your favorite,"

Amelia's eyes widen. "You've never seen any of these before?" I shake my head with a coy smile, my cheeks turning pink. "Wow, I guess it's my turn to educate you, Spencer. I might never get the opportunity to do this again so I'm going to take advantage while I can,"

Amelia jumps to her feet and pops one of the movies in the DVD player. She doesn't tell me what it is but she grabs the remote and comes to sit next to me on the couch. She's not too close to me but she's close enough to make my hands sweaty. I lean down to unlace my shoes and set them aside before getting myself a bit more comfortable on the couch, but not too comfortable. I’ve overheard far too many arguments between Morgan, JJ, Emily, and Garcia about how sitting too close to girls in moments like these can make a guy seem like, in Garcia’s words, a douchebag. And the last thing I want is for Amelia to think I’m a douchebag. So even though I feel I’m a mile away from her with just a couch cushion between us, I don’t move to close the distance.

"I put on The Polar Express because this is one of my favorite Christmas movies of all time," Amelia explains as the main menu comes up and shows the opening titles. "It's a good intro to Christmas movies, I guess, I don't really know,"

"Sure," I nod enthusiastically. "I like learning, I'm ready to watch. Go ahead, play,"

Amelia presses play and then reaches behind her for the blanket draped over the couch. She folds it over her lap and then glances over at me, holding up the corner of the blanket. "Do you-" she trails off, asking me if I want to share. I nod, scooting just a bit closer so we can both comfortably fit under the blanket. Our thighs are touching and it takes everything in me not to cuddle up even closer to her. She invited me over here so she must not think I’m a douchebag, right? This is okay, right?

The movie starts and it's quite different from the movies I'm used to watching. But I can tell it's a movie that has sentimental value to her so I pay close attention to it. It’s not filled with history or framed with subtitles or spewing information at me to instantly memorize. It’s just a lighthearted children’s movie that celebrates Christmas and teaches kids to not let others judge you and to believe in what you want to believe. I would have never watched a movie like this without Amelia and the longer I sit through the movie, the more I wish it wouldn’t end.

But eventually, I lean down to whisper in her ear. "None of the kids have names. Only Billy does,"

Amelia giggles, her head tilting closer to mine but keeping her eyes locked on the tv. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not sure why, they just don't,"

I hum, looking back up at the tv, not completely satisfied with the answer but willing to accept it. I try to focus back on the movie and figure out why these kids are sliding down tiny conveyor belts but I feel Amelia's eyes on me, locked on the side of my face. My attempts to ignore her gaze go in vain because I'm looking back down at her within another minute. She's looking up at me with her bottom lip between her teeth and her blue eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering. She looks horribly stunning and I fear I let my eyes linger on her lips for too long.

"What?" I whisper, wondering why she's staring at me when she should be watching the movie, a movie she claims is one of her favorites.

"Nothing," she says, but makes no attempt to break eye contact with me. "Nothing, I just-" she trails off yet again.

My hands had been placed at my sides but I can't help it when one of them moves to Amelia's cheek, barely even touching her soft skin at first, too afraid that she would flinch. A part of me is almost surprised when she doesn't pull away, but why do I keep getting surprised by her? She's remarkable. She asked me to spend Christmas with her so I wouldn't be alone. She cares about me in some capacity. She's showing me her favorite movies and baking cookies with me and she cares about me. I care about her and she cares about me. Why am I holding back?

"Can-" I clear my throat nervously, "can I kiss you?"

Amelia's eyes flutter for a moment before she nods, tilting her chin upwards. For a moment I think she's going to initiate the kiss, but then she doesn't. She just waits there, leaving me to feel her warm breath on my face and her cold skin under my fingertips. But she respected my boundaries when it came to handshakes and hugs, so even though I've already asked and she's already accepted, it makes sense that she would respect my inevitable boundaries with something as germy and personal and bacteria-filled as a kiss. So that means I have to finally take charge and I don't even have time to figure out if that terrifies me or excites me.

With my hand on her cheek and my heart about to beat out of my chest, I draw her forward and press my lips to hers in the softest and sweetest, most wonderful kiss. She tastes sweet, like strawberry lip balm and gingerbread, and I find my senses being filled with the taste of her. My brain had intended for a simple kiss, but after said simple kiss, I had to have more of her. Amelia doesn't resist as I deepen the kiss, bringing my hand to her neck to bring her closer. Her hands start at my chest but eventually travel up to my jawline, fingertips resting there softly, just barely coaxing me forward. Our lips move perfectly in sync and I could swear, as cheesy as it sounds, I feel burning on my skin from the fallout of the fireworks that erupt above us. I feel Amelia smile as she shuffles a bit closer to me on her knees, her body making even more contact with mine than before when we were just sitting.

My mind is screaming at me to pull away, to push her off of me and run home and curl up in bed, and to ignore Amelia forever. My head says to shield her from this horrible part of the world that I expose myself to and to protect her innocence. That's all I want to do. I want to protect her. As it often does, my head says no but my heart says yes. I can't deny what I'm feeling for Amelia. I can't deny that I haven't slept over my alarm for two months because I'm far too excited to see her every morning at the cafe. I can't help the way my heart speeds up when she walks in and waves at me, or the way I can't help but beam when she laughs, or how I don't want to leave when the alarm on her phone sounds. That's what leads me to wrap my free arm around her waist and bring her chest to mine, the fabric of her sweater clutched in my fist and my lips fervently sliding against hers.

The sharp cry of the oven alarm is the only thing that can get us to pull apart, far too quickly for either of our likings. Amelia pulls away with a sharp inhale, her eyes closed for just a moment longer than mine. "I'll-" she moves one of the hands from my jaw to wipe at her bottom lip, "um, I'll go get that,"

Amelia begrudgingly untangles herself from my arms and then from the blanket around her legs, feet silent on the floor as she hurries to pull the lasagna out of the oven. I'm left on the couch for a moment, completely stunned and actually quite pleased. I’ve never been kissed like that. I didn’t even know I could kiss like that. I didn’t even know I had it in me. But once the momentary shock wears off, the tension sets in and I know I need to follow Amelia. I reach up to pause the movie so we don’t miss anything before following Amelia into the kitchen, seeing her close the oven as she places the tray of lasagna on the stove. Her cheeks are flushed but I can't tell if that's from the kiss or the heat from the oven.

The apartment is tense now that it's silent and Amelia's back is turned to me. Despite the obvious verbal consent, I fear I've ruined everything. I asked to kiss her and even though she accepted, she's quiet. She's busying herself with dishing lasagna and I'm realizing that the only other time she acted this shut off was when I asked about her family. Does that mean I need to apologize again? Oh my gosh, I really don’t know how girls work. I’ve already upset her twice in one day and made her act in ways I’ve never seen before. Maybe I should have listened more when Morgan complained about his girl problems. You know what? Maybe I won’t apologize this time. I’ll try a different approach.

"That wasn't-" I mumble, lingering in the entryway to the kitchen, "weird, right? That didn't totally ruin things, right?"

Amelia's hands pause mid-air for a moment but then she continues dishing food. "No, it wasn't weird,"

Okay, Spencer. If you've ever needed to be bold, now's the time. She obviously likes you and you've accepted that you like her too and that you don't want to lose her, and right now, you're losing her to whatever her brain is telling her. Don't let that happen. Do something.

"So," I take a step closer to her and place my hand on her waist, spinning her around to face me, "so you wouldn't mind if I kissed you again?"

Amelia doesn't even respond, she just grabs my cheeks and kisses me again. I instinctively push her against the counter and hold her there, my hands clutching her waistline as her hands start to thread through my hair. This kiss is needier than the first one, almost as if it's solidifying to both of us that we're really doing this and that these feelings are actually mutual. That the first kiss didn’t scare either of us off and we’re not going anywhere.

I'm the first to pull away when I run out of breath, but I have not a single intention of moving away from her. I still feel Amelia's lips brushing mine and her warm breath fanning across my face, delicate fingers pushing my hair off my forehead. It's shaggy and falling over my forehead, but she arranges it perfectly so it's out of the way. She smiles nervously at me and then she shrinks, and I realize she had to go on her tiptoes to kiss me. "I, um," she laughs, letting her hands fall to my shoulders, "I've had a crush on you for a while. Like, since we first talked,"

I slide my hands down to her hips, feeling the rough tweed fabric under my fingertips. "Really?"

"Yeah," she smiles bashfully. "I thought you were really cute and I may have walked into you on purpose because I was too scared to approach you when you were reading,"

My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at the realization that the camera fiddling was just a ruse. "What?" Amelia giggles, ducking her head into my shoulder to hide her blush from showing. "No! No hiding!"

"It's true!" She pulls her hands from my shoulders and covers her face. "You were reading and you were doing it so fast and I was confused at how you were actually retaining the information and you looked so cute with your hair up like that and I wanted to talk to you but I didn't know how to. When you got up, I just walked over and then grabbed my camera and-" I grab her wrists gently and pull her hands away from her face. Amelia's face is bright red in embarrassment but she smiles as I slide my hands into hers and lace our fingers together. "I thought you didn't hold hands,"

"You also thought I didn't hug or kiss until tonight," I remark, bringing our hands down to our sides. I lean in one more time and press our lips together, and this time the kiss doesn't need to be quick or passionate or wet. It's slow and sweet. It fills me with the familiar warmth that only Amelia has been able to provide me with.

"You're just full of surprises," Amelia giggles, twisting her head to kiss my cheek. "We should eat before it gets cold, right?"

"Yeah, probably," I don't want to let go of her but I reluctantly do, letting her continue her task of dishing lasagna for the two of us. We resume our positions on the couch, sitting even closer than before. Amelia rewinds the movie quite a bit, making sure I’ve seen every frame that we missed while we were engaged in other activities. She claims she doesn’t mind seeing it again, that she watched this movie last week anyway so rewinding it for me isn’t a big deal at all.

I do my best to pay attention throughout the rest of the movie like Amelia wants me to do, but it's proven to be a challenge. All I want to do is look down at the angel sitting beside me and kiss her and play with her hair and talk to her about any topic that might pop into my head. But she's fixated on the movie and I don't want to tear her away from something that she's so invested in. So I stay silent and sling my arm over the back of the couch in an attempt to get more comfortable. I do it unintentionally, but Amelia takes this as an invitation to cuddle up beside me. She brings her knees up to her chest and rests her head on my shoulder, effectively tucking herself into my side. I'm not complaining, because even though I wasn’t intending to do the ultimate douchebag move and basically silently invite her to cuddle with me, I’m not complaining. I grin for the rest of the movie.

///

"So did you like it?" Amelia asks eagerly, sitting up on her knees as the credits rolls, an expecting grin plastered on her face. "I know you're used to watching movies in different languages and-"

"It was pretty great, actually,"

"You're not just saying that because I told you it's one of my favorites?"

"Not at all. It bothered me that the children didn't have names, besides Billy, but other than that, it was a wonderful movie. I can see why you like it so much," I tell her. "And it's only seven. Are we gonna watch something else?"

"Well," Amelia chews on her lip, pulling away from my embrace slightly as she plays with the hem of her skirt, "the depends on you. If you wanna head home, I know you have work tomorrow and-"

"Actually," unintentionally, I cut her off yet again. But she looks up at me with bright eyes, hopeful that I'll want to stay, "I don't expect that you got me anything but I brought you a gift,"

I quickly leap up to avoid seeing her reaction, returning to my messenger bag in the doorway, reaching in for the perfectly wrapped gift. I spent hours on the floor of my bedroom wrapping the present, and then unwrapping it when the paper creased, then wrapping it again, then unwrapping it when the paper ripped, and then finally leaving the wrapping after what seemed like the millionth try. It was a process but it was worth it because it looks absolutely perfect.

When I return to the living room, Amelia is gone. I sit down with the gift in my lap, assuming she'll be back soon. And sure enough, she comes bounding down the floating stairs a second later. "I did actually get you a gift," she says, jumping back onto her spot on the couch. "Just something little," I pass my gift off to her and she does the same with me until we're holding each other's presents. It's odd actually, because I've given and received gifts with my team and with my mom, but never like this. Never with a girl I have a massive crush on. Never with someone who I care on another level for. Never with a girl who seems to put the sun in the sky.

I gesture for Amelia to go first, placing her gift in my lap, to be opened next. She gives me an excited smile and nods, obeying my quiet warning to hold it carefully as she searches for a spot to pull the paper back. "They're-" she pulls the paper clean off and beams, "45's,"

"Yeah," I nod anxiously as she reveals my present. "You told me you love records and this bookstore I love sells records too. I found these and I thought of-" I clear my throat, "well, they made me think of you,"

Amelia looks through the small stack of records in her hands, narrowing her eyes at me. "Most of them are classical, Spencer,"

"You need more classical music in your life, Amelia," I sass back at her, earning a small scoff in returning, bringing up a small quarrel we had a few weeks ago. "You can't spend your days listening to Christmas music, Frank Sinatra, and Taylor Swift,"

Amelia glances up at me with a small pout. "I could try,"

I laugh, pointing to the records in her hand. "Well, now you don't have to,"

"Thank you, love. This is wonderful, really. I'm gonna put one of these on right after you open your gift," she places them on her lap and then points at the present in my lap. "Go ahead. It's your turn."

I tear back the wrapping paper and first find a pack of coloring pencils, which seems like an odd gift, considering how many times I’ve established that I’m bad at art, but then I find a black leather journal behind it. Upon further inspection, I find that there are drawings on the front of the journal. My name is written in beautiful calligraphy on the top of the cover, and all around the front are small pictures. I find things like coffee cups, cameras, a deck of cards, an imperfect square with the pattern of one of Amelia's scarves, a record player, beakers, plenty of books, and much more.

"It's a sketchbook," Amelia explains softly. "You were saying how you wish you were better at art, so now you have the means to practice. And I was thinking about when you go on cases and you could bring it with you and I tried to put things on the front that would maybe, I don't know, comfort you." She pauses and I look up at her, waiting for her to continue with what she wants to say. Because just by the tight-lipped smile on her face, I know she wants to say something else. "Selfishly, I put references to me on there,"

I set my gift onto the coffee table and then move the records aside, pulling Amelia into my arms again. She happily accepts this embrace, arms circling my shoulders. "I love it," I tell her. "Thank you. I'll definitely bring it on cases with me. I can't ensure that anything I draw in it is good, but-"

"But you've got a pretty great teacher right here."

///

Amelia watches with an overly dramatic pout as I button up my jacket and put my scarf on, glancing out the window to check out bad the snow is. She crosses her arms over her chest as I put my messenger bag over my shoulder, making me laugh. "Don't make me feel even worse for leaving,"

"If I make you feel really bad, will you stay?" Amelia practically begs, even though she's already reaching for the doorknob. She knows I have work tomorrow and I have to be up early. She opens the door and then leans against the frame, still clearly not ready for me to depart.

"Hey, why don't you sleep in tomorrow? We don't need to meet up tomorrow morning. Get some extra sleep. It's almost midnight,"

Amelia's pout grows. "What? But what if you get a case? Then I won't see you for a few days, at least,"

"Then," I hadn't entirely thought this through because she totally has a point. WWDMD? I know exactly what Derek Morgan would do. Of all the times I’ve thought about Morgan today, I know exactly how he would respond in this situation. I reach out to grab her waist and pull her into a half hug, smiling, "then I'll make it up to you by taking you out on a proper date when I get back,"

Amelia's smile grows and she starts to nod. "That sounds like a plan," she goes up on her toes to kiss me but her lips only brush mine before pulling away again. "What if you don't get a case? Are you still gonna take me on a date?"

I put on a pensive face that makes her laugh. "I'll think about it," I press my lips to hers, unable to handle the short, torturous distance anymore. The kiss doesn’t last nearly as long as I want it to because we’re standing the hallway at midnight where anyone could catch us, letting the heat out, after a long day of making cookies and watching movies, and it’s absolutely freezing. So when we pull away, I have to will myself to not groan or grimace.

"Let me walk you out," Amelia hums, grabbing her keys before walking out with me. Our pinky's interlock as we walk down her apartment hallway, towards the door outside. "Will you text me when you get home? I just wanna make sure you get home safe," we stop in front of the door and she wraps her arms around my waist. "I know you're a fully capable FBI agent and all but it's late and I worry about that stuff,"

"Of course I will," I hug her tightly, pressing my lips to her cheek. "Thank you for inviting me over. I would've just been sitting alone and reading books all day without you,"

"Thanks for coming over," she echoes, pulling away from our ultra-warm hug and letting a chill run down her spine. "I would've watched movies alone all day. So thanks for being with me. I'll miss you tomorrow,"

"I will too, but I'll text you when I get home and I'll talk to you tomorrow to let you know if I get a case or not,"

"I'll be glued to my phone," Amelia winks at me, getting me to laugh one last time for the night. "Now go, before it gets even later."

“You go back to your apartment first. I know it’s right there but I, uh,” I glance behind her, down the dim hallway, “I worry about that stuff,”

Amelia smiles in the most smitten way I think I’ve ever seen, and for once, I think I’ve actually done something right. “Yeah, okay,” she nods, and she pushes herself up on her toes to kiss my cheek on more time. “Bye, Spencer. Merry Christmas,”

“Merry Christmas,” I echo, watching her scurry back to her apartment and unlock the door, stepping into the warmth. Her head pops out once more and she sends me a wave, blowing me a kiss before she disappears. The air I exhale reverberates off the wall and the smile on my face is undeniable, even as I dance on the cusp of frostbite during my walk home. A girl like that is mine? A girl like that who blows kisses and bakes cookies all day and cuddles during movies? She’s mine? Amelia is mine. She really is and as soon as that thought echoes in my head, a laugh escapes my lips. I must be the luckiest man alive.

hello there! if you’re still reading here then please tell me your favorite snack!! plz im v hungry thank u sm okay here’s the taglist

TAGLIST

@etheralgubler @babybobbybones @whollytaciturn @reidswords @thegingerfairchild @matthewreid @shrimpyblog @garcias-batcave @anamelessfacelessnerd @nastyhar @gublergirls @mandapanda8

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #nikos north fic

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