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#ive done it yall
c-m-li · 1 year
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Cody was cut from the Kenobi series for the good of the canon:
Okay, but hear me out . . .
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Because there is no doubt in my mind that if THEE Marshal Commander Cody of the Third Systems Army of the Galactic Army of the Republic and second-in-command to Jedi High General Obi-Wan Kenobi was ever in a position to confront Darth Vader -
- Fallen Jedi General Anakin Skywalker, enslaver of the clones, betrayer of Obi-Wan Kenobi, butcher of the Jedi Temple -
Cody would not hesitate to kill him.
However, Vader is still alive in A New Hope so Cody clearly didn't get near him while in his right mind.
And since the Kenobi series takes place prior to A New Hope, they couldn't have Cody in Obi-Wan's confrontation with Vader.
I'm not saying I'm not gonna be bitter about this until the day I die, but I acknowledge that they needed Vader to survive the series with all of his crusty burnt skin still attached to his body so . . . No Cody.
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havanillas · 5 days
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it's crazy how much love the merman au has received in the past week, i wanted to take a moment to thank you guys
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ashenberry · 4 months
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[ID in alt]
hi hey hello. you should go check out @u3pxx 's piece for the mea culpa zine I just made a fun and silly continuation of it because im normal about it <3
more fun and silly shenanigans under the cut
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[ID in alt]
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a-mag-meme-a-day · 9 days
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I'm So Sorry
So a couple nights ago, I was dared to make my signature catgirl edit of Bonzo from TMAGP. It's by far the worse thing I have ever done. I'm so sorry.
Putting it under the cut bc its Fucking Bonzo.
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Yeah, my first Protocol meme for this account and its a Bonzo Edit. Pretty on-brand ngl.
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squeakadeeks · 14 days
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"The ringing bells? Oh, that's me! ... too loud?" ✨🌸🔔🧚‍♂️
Oh my gosh I'm so happy with how Silverbell cookie turned out!! I've been working on him for a good long while (longer than lagombi believe it or not!) I had to custom layer all of the suiting fabric with a sheer flatlining and he used at least 120 flowers! I can't even begin to think of the rhinestone count...he for sure holds the title as the sparkliest costume I've made which is.....saying something 😵‍💫
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foam on this project was from Coscom Cosplay Supplies! I also used their primer on the bow and it twas 👌 v nice
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time-woods · 5 months
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Chasing Stars au ! !
forgot to put the fic up here ! its the comic pages plus 2 chapters so far ! (finished the second one today)) but yea ! actually writing the fic !
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raineandsky · 7 days
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#109
When the doorbell rings, the hero’s kind of hoping it’s the pizza delivery guy.
They open the door to find, tragically, not the pizza delivery guy.
“Uh,” the villain says, “hi.”
The hero isn’t entirely sure what sequence of words would best fit this scenario. “Hi?” is the best they can do.
The villain shuffles on their feet awkwardly. A pause hangs between them, filled by the distant roar of the city beyond. “I thought you’d ask why I’m here,” they say eventually.
“I’m more concerned about how you’re here.”
A smile threatens the corners of the villain’s mouth. “We know where all you heroes live.” The smile fades into nothing again. “Or just I know, now, I guess.”
“Okay.” The hero squints at the villain uncertainly. “I’ll entertain you. Why the hell are you standing outside my door?”
“No one wants to be a villain anymore. Everyone quit.” The villain’s face contorts into some unreadable expression. “It’s just me.”
That doesn’t sound right. From the villain’s slight grimace, they know it too. “Everyone… quit villainy,” the hero repeats.
“There’s nothing to gain from it anymore. We had a vote and I was the only one who wanted to keep going.” The villain’s gaze dips to their hands as if they hold answers. “They left me everything, but… I can’t do it all on my own. So I’m turning myself in.”
The hero stares at the villain for a long moment. “Even [Supervillain].”
“Especially [Supervillain].”
The hero steps aside with a sigh. The villain looks like they’re being invited into a pit of wolves. “You want me to come into your house?”
“My handcuffs are in my living room cabinet and I don’t trust you standing out there. It’s cold, anyway.”
The villain closes the door behind them in an uncharacteristic show of politeness as the hero digs through their drawers. They’re wiping their shoes on the mat when the hero gets back, cuffs in hand.
The villain holds their hands out and the hero clicks the cuffs around their wrists. It’s almost too easy. The question is sitting on the tip of their tongue.
“What’s the catch?”
The villain doesn’t seem surprised by the question. They shrug halfheartedly. “Dunno.” They glance about for inspiration. “All the others have gone into hiding, I guess. You have me, but everyone else will probably evade you for the rest of time.”
“Much like they already do.” The hero manoeuvres them to the sofa in the living room, giving them a nudge to make them actually sit down. “You make it sound like you’ve been left in charge of the entire criminal organisation.”
The barking laugh the villain lets out is entirely fake. Too sharp, too short. “I have.”
“So villany will collapse without you.”
The villain shrugs again, the motion laden with effort. “Not like anyone else was willing to carry that burden—and I’m not either, hence why I’m, y’know…” They gesture vaguely at themself, in cuffs, in the hero’s living room.
The villain goes, villainy is defeated. No more villains, no more big crimes, no more heroes. Everything the agency has worked to be would collapse. The hero would be out of a job. It'd be over.
Yet here the villain is, giving everything up, taking the entirety of villainy down with them. The sole survivor of a shipwreck and wishing they’d gone down with the ship. A ship they don’t seem to realise the hero is on too.
The doorbell rings again, and the hero leaves the villain carefully settling on the sofa to answer it. They return with a giant grin on their face and a giant pizza box in their hands.
“Let’s worry about all this afterwards,” the hero says brightly. They brandish the box at the villain in the hopes of tempting them. “Want some?”
The tempting works; the villain reaches for a slice. “What a last meal.”
The hero sets the box on the coffee table as they flop back on the sofa. “I don’t know, [Villain],” they say with a smile, “I don’t think it has to be.”
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asteraws · 1 year
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i wish crick was a permanent party member
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meamiiikiii · 2 months
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what to do when you forget your umbrella!
i will not elaborate.
((these drawings are a GSNK rain scene reference ADSAFFASD))
bonus isolated (isalated?) running isa as a treat for his birthday:
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autisticlancemcclain · 4 months
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part one
“Guys,” a soft voice interrupted, and Keith could’ve collapsed with relief. The castle has been flipped sideways during the fall, floor suddenly now 90 degrees, and standing at the side of the control board, now the very high top, was Lance. For whatever reason he had climbed it while they bickered, and now stood very still, gloved hand pressed to the glass of the windshield. Blood trickled from his temple, tracing a line down the side of his face, disappearing in the neckline of his armour. “We got company.”
Shifting gears – Keith was about to tear him a new one, when Shiro says sound off you sound off – but froze when he looked out the window, following Lance’s gaze.
Marching towards them, in numbers Keith couldn’t pretend to count, was an army.
— — —
“Well,” said Hunk, holding Allura in both arms, “that looks bad.”
Shiro snorted. “Thank you, Hunk.”
“Anytime.”
Keith wanted to snap at them both. What time was it to laugh? They were injured, mostly defenseless, castle crashed. The Lions still sat, unusable, in their hangers. Hopefully they were okay, but it wasn’t like anyone could go check. Keith could barely even feel Red’s presence in the back of his mind – that stupid new Empire toy had drained them. It was frightening. And Hunk and Shiro were making jokes?
But Keith couldn’t find the words to chew them out. Instead, his voice was caught in his throat as he looked on the slowly advancing army with wide eyes and tense shoulders.
The advancing army was…trees.
That’s what it looked like, anyways. Rows and rows of rough bark and quietly swaying leaves, advancing in formation. A large black bird flew, cawing, above them. Keith tried not to think about omens. 
“Did a forest come to life?” Pidge muttered, squinting. Keith was relieved she was seeing the same thing. Keith has been in space a long time, at this point, but this was like nothing he had ever seen before. This didn’t look like a people in any way he understood. They were alive, surely, their movements organic in fluid in a way non-living things couldn’t quite manage, but his eyes were not deceiving him, and in front of him was a bunch of moving trees. As he watched, they advanced slightly further, stopped, and froze. 
And then, slowly, they morphed. 
Out of the bark, people seemed to…melt? Was that the right word? The trees planted themselves on the beach as if they’d always been there, as if the giant ocean was simply a lake beside a forest, and the bark of each plant seemed to shimmer, to shift. Humanoid figures took form, with skin like wood and hair like moss and leaves, eyes dark and old and knowing. Little saplings hid behind the sweeping dirt skirts of giant, older trees, giggling amongst themselves. Tiny droplets of water shined in dots on dozens of brown faces, glittering on brows and lips and noses like diamond piercings. Vines wreathed around torsos like tailored clothing. 
Above them, Lance gasped. It was a quick, near-silent sound, one Keith only noticed because he was watching Lance from his peripherals anyway. 
“Dryads,” he whispered, unmistakably excited, and before anyone could get so much as a word in he scrambled down the control board, careened down the bridge, and sprinted his way out the exit. 
“No, what are you – Lance!” Hunk shouted, the first to react. He handed a still-unconscious Allura off to Coran, who took her with a wide-eyed, confused expression. 
“Number Two, what is –”
“I am going to burn your Percy Jackson books,” Hunk seethed, already stomping out after Lance. He scooped up his blue helmet on his way and shook it at the door. “You hear me, Leandro? Burn them! Head outta the clouds, that’s an army!”
Keith was quick to follow. The rest of the team fell in step behind him, jogging after Lance. 
Outside was…well, it startled him. 
He’d seen it on the way down, of course. But he hadn’t been focused, really, hadn’t taken the time to map it past what the air currents felt like, past a safe (ish) place to land. The beauty of it now knocked the breath out of him. The ocean was almost crystalline, it was so clear and blue. Keith could smell it even through his helmet, the salt, the sea, and something Keith couldn’t recognise. Every rock on the seashore shone in the bright golden sun, glittering like encrusted jewellery. Down the beach, where the rocks gave way to beach, the sand was bright brilliant white; hard, actually, to look at. On Keith’s other side was a rolling, sage green meadow, peppered with wildflowers so familiar Keith almost felt he could name them. He saw dozens of fruit trees, all different kinds, so ripe and rich his mouth watered. He was nowhere near enough to smell them, but the fruits were so plump and colourful that every instinct curled up in every corner in his head begged him to gorge himself to coma. Even the army in front of him, the rows and rows of stern tree warriors – dryads, Lance had called them – couldn’t stir wariness in Keith’s heart. His shoulders relaxed without his say-so.
One of the warriors stepped forth. She was wide-set, tall, and the ground trembled with every step. Her eyes were dark as murky green pond depths. Deep gauges lined her face, most from the pattern of the bark that made up her skin, but many that disrupted the pattern; rough, torn scars, one right through her right eye. 
“State your business,” she said, voice rough as sandpaper. 
No one said anything. The awe Keith felt was reflected in his friends, wonder rendering them mute.
“You’re dryads,” said Lance softly. He stepped forward, Hunk’s hand falling from his shoulder. “Tree spirits.”
The tree-woman nodded. “If that’s what your people call us, child. Here, we’re Aegians, Last Guardians of Marmaro. And we ask again – name yourselves.”
Her army raised their weapons as she spoke. Sharp, pointed weapons, some of hardened stone, some of crystal and marble, some of the same wood that made up their flesh. One even had shards of metal attached to a complicated string of vine. 
“We are Paladins of Voltron,” Shiro said, finally, hands held up in peace. He moved slowly up from next to Pidge, eyes never leaving the Aegian leader, until he finally stood in front of her, arm loosely circling Lance’s elbow, tugging him gently back. “We come in peace. Our ship was attacked by the Galran Empire, and we barely made it out intact. We apologise for any damage.”
“I’m not sure ‘intact’ is the right word,” murmured the Aegian leader, glancing quickly at their smoking ship, “but regardless. You are here now.  I am Dryope, and I grant you asylum, as is my birthright.” She said the name like dry-oh-pay, but with a lilt to her vowels Keith couldn’t replicate even in his own head. 
Dryope stood to her full height – which, ho-lee – and struck her staff twice on the rock on which she stood. Immediately, the army fell back, weapons sheathed, postures loosened. 
“Aegians!” she called, and every single tree-warrior stood to attention. “The Paladins of Voltron have come to us. We shall extend our hospitality to them, as dictated in the Ancient Laws.” She turned to them for a moment, contemplating. “Seven households come forward. Our guests are to be fed, clothed, and cared for. Who shall claim the honour?”
Keith exchanged a look with Hunk, shifting uncomfortably. Seven households? They were in no position to complain, but on all the planets they’ve visited before, they’ve never been housed separately. To speak up would surely insult their hosts – but was it safe to split up? They were injured and exhausted – if their hosts proved malevolent, they would be almost powerless individually. Allura was still out, Lance for sure had a head injury, Keith was, now that he noticed, breathing laboriously. A quick glance beside him revealed an odd angle to Pidge’s wrist, probably sprained, and Hunk shifted every couple of seconds like he could not stand comfortably. Shiro favoured his left leg. Only Coran stood tall and strong, Allura held protectively in his arms – but Keith knew better. (He will never, as long as he lives, forget the way the man collapsed, ashen and unresponsive, right at his spot at the castle’s controls. The rest of them had just been deemed healthy enough to fight again after falling ill to Deadman’s Spots, fevered and covered in sores and wasting away. Only Coran had been spared – or so they thought. They had almost lost him.) Coran could have a shard of bone sticking out of his leg and none of them would know. 
They could not afford to refuse the help.
The gathered army rippled and shifted as people answered Dryope’s call. One by one more Aegians pushed their way to the front, until seven stood just behind their leader, shoulder to shoulder, chins raised proudly.
“We have space for the injured girl,” spoke the first Aegian. She stepped forward, and she didn’t look like a warrior at all – the smile on her face was soft and welcoming. She was much stouter than Dryope, and and her eyes held the same maternal kindness that Shiro’s often did, deep and black and understanding. The lined pattern that made up her bark was softer, lining her face like smile lines. Thousands of branches twisted and grew out of her waist, resembling the tangled roots of the biggest tree in the forest. Clinging to her branch-skirt were at least four little saplings, young and reedy, peeking their wide eyes out behind their mama’s hips. She smiled wider, hands outstretched, and Keith had to stop himself from walking into them himself.
“Yes,” said Dryope, nodding at her. Her face went oddly soft, smiling at the maternal woman. When she turned back to face the team, her face morphed back into its impassive expression. “Paladins, Rhea and her family will house your injured girl. She will be well cared for – Rhea has nursed and watched many in her time.”
“Come,” beckoned Rhea, almost interrupting Dryope. The leader didn’t seem to mind. “Bring her to me, she must be laid comfortably.”
Coran walked forward, handing Allura to her gently. It spoke volumes to her character that Coran approached her at all, let alone that he pressed a quiet kiss to his charge’s forehead and stepped away. 
“She is only tired,” he said softly. “Not injured. She needs rest, and perhaps food.”
“I will see to it. Come, children.” With a sweep of her skirts echoing like a bamboo broom, she walked back through the ranks, saplings clinging to her back like baby monkeys.
Next, an elderly man stepped forward. He was hunched, gnarled fingers curled around the haft of a sharp wooden trident that resembled Dryope’s staff. Despite his limp, he walked with dignity, and when he lifted his chin to face Coran, his eyes were bright.
“Have you space, Father?” murmured Dryope.
He nodded. “Always.” 
Using his trident as a walking stick, he strode toward Coran, standing beside him. Coran, ever the diplomat, smiled slightly, and began speaking with him too quietly for Keith to hear. Both men, he noticed, seemed to stand the same way, although he couldn’t explain what that meant. It was just – vibes, he supposed. An energy.
“By the Sky, Mother, how long is this going to take?”
Startled by the abrupt change in tone, Keith jumped, turning towards the man who spoke. He was taller than anyone on the team, although shorter than most of the other Aegians, and covered himself with leaves that looked deliberately sewn rather than grown. His smile was wide and white and what Keith could only describe as shark-like. 
But what was most striking was his skin. The dark lines of patterns that covered it had Keith thinking he was as Aegian as the rest of them, made of tree bark, but then he blinked and realised – they were merely marks, or tattoos. Unlike the rest of the Aegians, this man had skin, this man was – 
Lance gasped. “You’re — human!” 
“Half,” the man corrected, chuckling. He swept forward and delicately grabbed Lance’s hand in one of his, pressing a kiss just above his wrist. Lance blushed up to his hairline. “My name is Peitho. I was born here, on Aegis. My father was a lost human explorer. I have never been to earth. But human genes…” He looked Lance up and down, grinning charmingly. “I’ve always felt they’re very dominant.” 
Lance, obviously pleased with the attention, warmed up quick. He walked over, reaching up to brush the hair out of Peitho’s eyes, touch lingering. Like they were friends or something. Keith ground his teeth so hard you could hear it from the ship’s smoking engine room. 
“I thought…I‘ve never seen a human in space. I thought we were alone, up here.” 
Peitho laughed, full-bodied and bright, like the sound of a smoothly rumbling engine. His handsome face creased lightly as he laughed, emphasizing newly-formed smile lines, which only made him more beautiful, not less. Lance smiled widely along with him. “Oh, my dear,” he said, turning that charming grin full blast on Lance, “you are never alone.”
Keith thought his jaw might crack. What a sleazeball. No wonder Lance liked him so much.
“The introductions need not drag on,” Peitho said grandly, sweeping his arm out like he was in charge or something. His other arm was around Lance’s shoulders. “Akeso, Dysnomia, Elatreus, meet with your paladins. They are hungry, and likely tired from travel. The sooner we have them rested, the sooner they can partake in our welcoming festivities. Right, Mother?”
Dryope nodded, looking a mix of annoyed and amused. “Yes, you embodiment of impertinence.”
As ordered by the embodiment of impertinence, three Aegians stepped forward. The first – who must be Akeso, a tall, reedy person with willowy locs falling to their shoulders, who held no weapon – approached Shiro, nodding tersely. Keith felt his brother match the terseness, stiffening. 
(Internally, Keith winced – could his brother not get someone who smiled, maybe? Akeso was probably fine, but, yeesh. There was once a time when Shiro laughed more than anyone else Keith knew. Sometimes maniacally, on two hours of sleep. But he heard it so rarely now.)
The second Aegian, Dysnomia, approached Pidge. Like the Green Paladin, she was short as shit. Keith met his friends eyes and snickered at her. The murderous look he got would make him more nervous if he, as Lance so often liked to gripe, had a bone of impulse control in his body. (Rich coming from him, but. Whatever. It wasn’t like Keith could argue.) The third, Elatreus, was absolutely, one hundred percent, the coolest Aegian Keith had seen so far. Holding an intricately crafted crossbow and with a shoulder width approximately the size of a small mountain, he lumbered over to Hunk. He held out his fist. Hunk wasted no time bumping with his own. Keith would be jealous if Hunk didn’t deserve it so bad. 
“Oh,” said Peitho, after a moment. “Of course, there is one more. Ares!” He gestured with half as much enthusiasm at Keith. “Your guest.”
Keith stilled. From behind Dryope, the last Aegian host stepped forward. His pale, papery bark was gnarled and scared, bulky, and – stained, it looked like, all the way up the arms. His face was more impassive that Dryope’s, expressionless, except for the slightest of sneers. Resting on one shoulder was a massive club, three times the size of Keith’s head at its tip. Like his host’s arms, it was stained. 
Keith forced himself to meet his stare. His host had eyes red as pomegranates – well. Eye.  The right side of his face, like the rest of the Aegians, was humanoid. The left side looked like it had – looked like someone had clawed out his eye, leaving a gaping, half-healed knot of a scar. 
Ares.
Keith wasn’t familiar with a lot of myths. But he knew what namesake his Aegian host bore – Ares, god of war, god of pain, god of hardened warriors and battlefield and bloodshed.
Fitting, hissed a voice in his mind. Keith curled his fists and ignored it.
“Paladin,” nodded Ares, taking his place next to him.
Keith swallowed. “Ares.”
“That, I believe, is everyone,” said Dryope. “Paladins, please follow your hosts. They will bring you to their homes and ensure you have somewhere to rest. At sundown, we shall reconvene at the hearth, eat, and make merry. Please –” she spread her hands, “enjoy our island. I will see you all shortly.”
She cracked her staff once on the ground. Immediately, her army parted for her, following her in formation once she marched through. Many of them returned to their tree form. It was still strange to watch. 
Keith jumped as a hand reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Shiro smiled slightly at him, squeezing again before letting go. 
“See you soon, kiddo.”
He followed his host, leaving Keith to realise he was the last still gathered in the shadow of their crashed castle. The eyeless Aegian stood next to him, hands resting on his club, watching him curiously. 
Keith cleared his throat. “Um, we can go.”
The Aegian continued to stare. Keith shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to draw his bayard. That would certainly not help. Things were precarious enough. 
“You do not trust us,” his host observed. His one remaining eye was unblinking, holding Keith’s stare until his own eyes burned and he had to blink.
“No,” Keith admitted. It wasn’t that he was scared of the Aegians, per se, but he was wary of them in the same way he was wary of the Blades of Marmora. He recognised their strength, their power, and knew from the way Dryope stood that she was keeping a lot of information to herself. Any group that kept secrets was impossible to trust, at least by Keith’s standards. He suddenly wished he had been paying attention enough to watch Pidge, Lance, and Hunk leave with their hosts, to make sure they were armed. 
His host shrugged. “Wise, probably. I would have no trust in your position.”
He started to walk over the rocks, and Keith followed. It was no accident that the Aegian kept Keith on a diagonal to him, visible from his right side. Keith did his best to keep himself in his line of sight. 
“You wouldn’t?”
“Do I look like I would?”
“I don’t know how to answer that diplomatically.”
To Keith’s great surprise, his host huffed a laugh. A slight smile upturned Keith’s own lips.
“Fair.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Off the beach and across the meadow, in a deep, round valley, there was a sprawling village. Small, large-bricked buildings dotted hills and lay nestled at the edge of small farms. Dead centre of the valley was a giant fire pit, gently lit, and surrounding it in a perfect circle were several larger buildings in the same style. Keith recognised many of the buildings as temples. 
“This way,” Keith’s host said, beckoning him forward. He turned off the main path and walked along the edge of the hill. Keith teetered after him, trying desperately to keep his balance. He was reminded how hard it was to breathe with bruising around his ribcage, how tired he was. But he kept his mouth clenched tightly closed, unwilling to look weak. 
They walked far past the centre circle, past outer circles, past even the farthest of farmhouses. In crossing one of them, the man stopped, Keith nearly walking right into him, and waited for several moments. He bent over as a tiny little boar came galloping to the edge of the fence on runty little legs, smiling as he scratched the thing between its tusks. Keith couldn’t help but notice the blood covering the sharp, portraying bones, as if the animal had just recently hunted. 
“Hey, Kyknos. Good to see you.”
He pet the boar for a few more minutes, then wordlessly started walking again. Keith had to jog to keep up, tired from the hike so far.
“That, uh, your pet?”
“No.”
Keith waited. No more information came forth. 
“Oo-kay, then.”
There was a Lance in his head that was laughing at him, bringing up every one-word answer of Keith’s that had frustrated the Blue Paladin to twitching eyes. Keith scowled.
Finally, the host stopped at a house. Keith felt he would nearly faint with relief, beyond ready to lay down his head, wariness or not. 
“This your place?” Keith asked, panting.
His host raised his eyebrow, pushing open the door.
“No,” he deadpanned, “this is my annoying neighbour’s house. He’s on holidays. I’m staying here and using all his things to take revenge for hours of small talk.”
“Oh,” Keith replied, impressed. “Cool.” He’ll have to do that next time Lance is on a solo mission. 
“No, I’m – I’m kidding, Paladin.”
“Oh,” Keith repeated, disappointed. “Less cool.”
“Just – get in the house.”
Keith didn’t argue. He followed his host into the small building, nodded as he was pointed to a guest room, and passed out the second his head hit the straw-stuffed pillow.
— — —
part three
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gifti3 · 6 months
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I adore your scent, it just grows sweeter
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From now on I'll see nothing but you, love4eva
i did it!! i made him do the dance 😭💗
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i like this cropped one too ✂
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onsecondthoughtno · 2 years
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Begin?
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spacerockband · 10 months
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Calamity Unwritten part 6 - personal problems
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ickyguts · 10 months
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RED ORANGE YELLOW GREEN
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CM Damsel/Dude in Distress Fics
Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work. You are so appreciated, and the diversity only makes these events better.
Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Damsel/Dude in Distress Challenge!
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S.R. SFW Fics (Fem!Reader)
Kryptonite by @foxy-eva: Spencer asks you to rescue him from a very scary spider in the bathroom
Safekeeping by @/foxy-eva: Spencer is there to protect you when a situation gets out of hand. 
Funny Thing Fate by me: Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.
Rib Cage by me: Spencer realizes Reader is the one, but it might be too late. He has to find her.
I Choose You by @ofwilliamandwalter: What happens when the lowly stable boy, Spencer, and the royalist of princesses, Reader, fall in love?
So, a Wedding? by @ssahopelessly: Reader had the invitation for nearly three months, but she didn't take the time to find a proper date.
The Found Part of Lost by @ssahopelessly: When on the way back to the station, you and Spencer find a friend on the side of the road.
Explosion by @c-m-stuff: Reader and Spencer are married. When Reader risks her life, Spencer is relieved she's still breathing.
Rose Coloured Lens by @alleyholls: Reader cuts her finger while cooking and Spencer bandages her up.
But it's Better if You Do by @fortheloveofwonderland: The absolute last thing Spencer needs is to fall for you, the magnetic exotic dancer who Morgan and Luke pay to give him a birthday dance.
More fics below!
Assorted SFW Fics
Never Let Me Go by @/foxy-eva: [Tara/Reader] Who knew how easy it would be for Reader to find comfort in Tara’s arms.
The Friendship We Have is a Rare Find by @/cherubcurls (Ao3): [Spencer & Penelope] Penelope and Spencer agree to meet up to have a study session before finals, but they end up not studying at all.
Peas and Love by @/masterwords (Ao3): [Hotchgan] Hotch hurts his back and Hank takes very good care of him.
I'll Do It by @tobias-hankel (Ao3): [Hotchreid] Hotch saves Spencer from an interrogation gone wrong.
He'll Say He's Just Not the Same by @spencer-reids-adventures (Ao3): [Hotch & Spencer] Spencer suffers a depressive episode, and Hotch comes to check on him.
Who's Afraid of the Bogeyman? by PandorasDreaming (Ao3): [Spencer & BAU] When Spencer is kidnapped by Mr. Scratch, they must race against time to save him before his mind breaks.
Saved from the Rain by @leahseclipse: [Spencer & 10th Doctor] Spencer has an encounter with a strange man who saves him from the rain.
I Get By by @/GarlicBreadforJuliusCaesar (Ao3): [Gen Fic] The one where Spencer has a fight with a vending machine, and the BAU chip in to help.
Co-Creator Bonus List!
SFW Gender Neutral Reader
Kitten Love: Spencer’s vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.
Diamonds: Spencer comforts Reader when they have a bad pain day.
Rotten: Reader struggles to feel at home in their body following a trauma.
Melancholia: Reader has been acting weird lately, so Spencer makes a much needed wellness check.
Storm: Reader has a panic attack.
Bruises: The team is concerned when Reader shows up with bruises on their neck.
SFW Female Reader
Astraphobia: SSA Reader and Spencer share their most embarrassing fears.
Different Dialects: Autistic!Reader. Spencer is trying to tell Reader he likes her, but it feels like they speak entirely different languages.
Porcelain: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the cafe. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.
Baggage Claim: Autistic!Reader is having a hard time at the airport.
Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.
From the Tree: The kidnapping case becomes personal when Spencer and Reader get a call from their nanny.
NSFW Female Reader
It’s Too Cliché ❤️: Reader and Spencer are the worst at friends with benefits. After an exchange of gifts & nasty words, the two reunite on a very eventful NYE.
Cupid & Psyche ❤️: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.
Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.
Thank you for writing and reading with me.
Let me know if you'd like me to add your story to this list!
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"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#cw blood#something something cracking open a boy w the cold ones#IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES I MISSED I SWWWEAR TO JEBEDIAH. IF I STARE AT THIS ANYMORE IM GONNA DIE IT NEEDS TO BE DONE#ALSO RRRAAAHAHHHGHGH CAN I JUST TAKEA SECOND TO SCREEAAMM ABT HOW MUCH I LOVE SODA AND EMIZEL.. LIKE THERYE SO CUTE....#THEY ARE HOMIES THAT KISS EACHOTHR GOODNIGHT. THEY CARE SO MUCH FOR EACHOTHER. SODA LOVES SODA AND SODA LOVES YOU#do u guys remember how willing he was to share blood w his vampire bestie. like cmon. remember when emizel memorized sodas Soda Schedule.#LIKE CMON.... they just have eachothers backs so much. ouhhh my god... ANYWAY SO THE ART HUH. I FEEL LIKE I SCRAMBLED W IT FOR A WHILE#DRAWIN IS HARD..... i think i did well in the end tho.. i like the lil heart beat effects. and i hope i made soda look Suffieciently Scared#i ALSO had fun w the teeth. i however did not have fun w the walls. if i had more drugs i mightve done every brick in more detail#but i didnt WANNA!!!! this will suffice.I HOPE IT FLOWS WELL&THAT ITS CLEAR... IVE STARED AT IT SO LONG IT IS NOW VISUAL SOUP. HELP!!!#i want my comics to have more Pauses and Space and Thought and Momence. i feel like normally they go so fast. but THIS time#i think i did good.... huuoouhhhh.... comics are HARD art is HARD but i am HARDER. or something. OH YEAH I HAVE MORE ART THINGS#soda was RLY HARD FOR ME TO DRAW FOR A MINUTE..but i like where his design is now. i wanted his hair to be curly swirly.like soda fizz#i THINK thats all my thoughts for now. if u have thoughts u should spill them in the tags i looooove reading tttaaggsss#have a goodnight i gotta go to work soon. maybe. unless the casinos power goes out AGAIN. OR SEOMTHING... UUGHHH MY SCHEDULE IS IN SHAMBLES#I THOUGHT I WAS WORKIN 3 DAYS INA ROW SO I RENTED A WHOLE DAMN HOTEL BC THE JOB PLACE IS FAR AWAY.. I HAD TO CANCEL THE WHOLE RESERVATOn#annd im MMMMAD ABOUT IT!!! like ill get over it ofc BUT IM PEEVED!!!! IM INCONVIENIENCED AND GENTLY AGGRIVATED. BUT OVERALL FINE.#hope yalls weekend goes well. sleep well. if u get the chance to.
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