#god i hope my dr will be able to do something. or refer me to someone who can

[the-bookwyrm]

I'm currently doing a sleep diary that I can take to my doctor, so I can point to it and go "look! I absolutely have insomnia, look at how terribly I sleep!!"

And the thing is. It's just. I've always known that I have bad sleep days, you know? But the thing with ADD is that I can't remember. So I'll be living life, going yeah, I slept badly yesterday, but I'm sure today will be better!! And not remembering that the day before that was just as bad, and so was the day before that.

I'm just so angry sometimes. I'm almost 30! And just now, just this year, am I figuring out that I have insomnia, because I literally could not remember enough to know I had it before I started developing coping mechanisms.

How many more things will I have to learn about myself, that could've been fixed, if I'd gotten help earlier?

[boldlyvoid]

Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier. 

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope. 

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly. 

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend. 

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea. 

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…” 

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.” 

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.” 

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?” 

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.” 

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3. 

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends  and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?” 

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.” 

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…” 

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.” 

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down. 

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment. 

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating. 

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?” 

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him. 

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them. 

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?” 

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.” 

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping. 

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…” 

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.” 

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.” 

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…” 

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.” 

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.” 

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly. 

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.” 

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her. 

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?” 

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?” 

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?” 

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam. 

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?” 

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.” 

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.” 

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…” 

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?” 

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt. 

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.” 

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already. 

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life. 

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer. 

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why. 

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first. 

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before. 

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?” 

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.” 

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?” 

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?” 

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?” 

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell. 

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before. 

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?” 

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?” 

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.” 

“It sounded nice when you were humming?” 

“It’s embarrassing…” 

“What is it?” 

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…” 

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.�� 

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?” 

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.” 

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him. 

“A few mugs?” He teases right back. 

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard. 

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.” 

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face. 

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.” 

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it. 

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned. 

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to. 

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them. 

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?” 

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.” 

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits. 

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing. 

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away. 

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her. 

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore. 

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now. 

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy. 

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did. 

He wanted this to be perfect for her. 

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed. 

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day. 

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it. 

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares. 

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…” 

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.” 

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.” 

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her. 

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up. 

He nods, “is that okay?” 

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.” 

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.  

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too. 

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…” 

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.” 

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?” 

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over. 

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself. 

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them. 

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss. 

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.” 

“Okay then.” 

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it. 

So she does. 

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?” 

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.” 

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.” 

“Summer job?” 

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.” 

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued. 

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.” 

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.” 

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.” 

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.” 

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze. 

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her. 

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?” 

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?” 

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will. 

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right. 

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time. 

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.” 

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.” 

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away. 

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?” 

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.” 

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.” 

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.” 

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.” 

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door. 

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave. 

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.” 

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.” 

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.” 

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…” 

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases. 

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them. 

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…” 

“No way?” She can’t believe it. 

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.” 

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?” 

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.” 

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?” 

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.” 

“Wow,” she can’t believe it. 

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…” 

“Really?” 

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?” 

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.” 

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.” 

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.” 

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.” 

“Okay,” he follows her instructions. 

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.” 

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…” 

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?” 

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?” 

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.” 

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.” 

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.” 

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other. 

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special. 

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.” 

“I don’t plan to?” 

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.” 

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?” 

“In 2013.” 

“Have you been single for 10 years?” 

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.” 

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.” 

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.” 

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that. 

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.” 

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.” 

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.” 

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks. 

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life. 

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now. 

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking. 

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.” 

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.” 

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…” 

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself. 

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.” 

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?” 

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…” 

“How many have you had so far?” 

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…” 

“Boyfriend?” 

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?” 

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it. 

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.” 

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.” 

“No?” 

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.” 

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.” 

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.” 

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.” 

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.” 

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.” 

“I do.” 

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them. 

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home. 

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off. 

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?” 

“I missed my best friend.” 

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome. 

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now. 

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.” 

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.” 

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.” 

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.” 

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.” 

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…” 

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.” 

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!” 

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.” 

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.” 

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her. 

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?” 

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?” 

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?” 

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back. 

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?” 

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.” 

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.” 

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?” 

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.” 

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?” 

She nods, “Extremely.” 

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another. 

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to. 

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday. 

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight… 

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases. 

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?” 

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.” 

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.” 

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?” 

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.” 

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets. 

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.” 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?” 

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.” 

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?” 

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her. 

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went. 

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.” 

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.” 

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?” 

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.” 

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes. 

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.” 

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other. 

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.” 

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.” 

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?” 

“Only if you’d be mine?” 

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.” 

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close. 

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?” 

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.” 

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her. 

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve. 

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it. 

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.” 

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her. 

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up. 

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his. 

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing. 

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?” 

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.” 

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,”  as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time… 

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?” 

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?” 

“Do you want to?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?” 

“Special sex?” 

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed. 

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?” 

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.” 

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.” 

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly. 

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?” 

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?” 

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…” 

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…” 

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan. 

“Do you like that?” 

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her. 

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?” 

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do. 

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly. 

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her. 

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?” 

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her. 

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream. 

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit. 

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.” 

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed. 

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp. 

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.” 

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…” 

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust. 

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk. 

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.” 

“Yeah?” 

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!” 

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.” 

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?” 

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?” 

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.” 

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees. 

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath. 

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place. 

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.” 

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him. 

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.” 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him. 

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?” 

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over. 

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high. 

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her. 

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.” 

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

[memoriashell]

another year, another birthday tweet...i actually really (mostly) liked this year's message, so i prioritized working on it asap. lol. one day i'll get around to doing some of the ones from the previous years, but not today. also bc twitter is a ticking time bomb and i am doing my part in archiving content o7

disclaimer, i’m not fluent in japanese, so i’m not claiming that this is perfect or potentially not without misunderstandings. i’ve also included some translation notes to clarify some things that i felt needed clarification and to offer explanation as to why i reached the conclusions that i did.

i'll also have everything under the cut for easier accessability! sorry if there are typos it is almost midnight as i schedule this up for tomorrow >.>

--

大和田

「あぁ？誕生日だぁ？ Ah? [My] birthday?

やめろや、恥ずかしい。Quit that, [it’s] embarrassing. **

オレは日本最大最狂最悪の暴行チームの頭だぞ？I’m the leader of Japan’s most biggest, craziest gang, you know? ***

こんな事で喜んだ姿を見せてられっかよ……けど、まぁオメーらにだったらいいかもな。 [I’m] not sure if I can show how happy I am [for this sort of thing]...but, well, maybe it’s okay [to show that emotion] if it’s just you guys, right? ****

兄弟からも『本当の強さとは弱さを見せられる相手を持つ事だ』って忠告されたばっかだしな 」 “True strength is to have somebody to show your weaknesses to.” That’s the advice that Kyoudai gave me.

//

** やめろ generally is translated as stop it, but the や emphasis at the end gives the idea of this being a little more intense, which is generally on point for Mondo. To try and get across that it’s more than just a normal stop it, I decided to translate it as quit it instead. 

恥ずかしい just generally translates as being embarrassed or that something is embarrassing, so contextually you could read this as “Stop that, it’s embarrassing [that you’re celebrating]”, or “Quit that, I’m embarrassed [that you’re celebrating me]”. I went with the former because in the overall context that one made the most sense to me, but I think it’s probably okay to read it either way.

*** Okay this one was a bit of a doozy to try and make sense of, because 最大 is biggest, 最 is most, 狂 depends on context but one of the more common ways is to describe someone who is crazy enthusiastic about something, and 最悪 is for worst/terrible. It didn’t seem like there was an easy way to translate this without it becoming a mouthful and also not really making much sense, so I tried to compromise in the translation. 

As a bonus fun fact, since I cross referenced it trying to figure out how to translate,  最大最悪 is used for infamous: the biggest, most awful [most tragic event in human history] line in DR.

The other issue with this line is that uhm. I am hoping Kodaka just accidentally made a typo? 暴行 (boukou), I am hoping, was supposed to actually be bousouzoku (暴走族), which is the term used for referring to Mondo’s gang/deliquent activities. 暴行 is a word that can be associated with violence, but specifically SA. Sorry that I have to bring this up. Anyways, I tried to google to see if there was perhaps some slang I was missing (including the チーム/team from the original tweet), but that really only gave results for things related to sports teams and SA. Considering that as far as I could tell, no one on the JP side said anything about it, it might be something just lost in translation? But even searching the term on twitter didn’t seem to suggest that it’s a term used commonly so I don’t think it’s like a fan abreviation for bousozoku >> boukou. Anyways this god awful tangent aside, I’m working with the assumption that we’re talking about biking!!  Please know I was this close to giving up on this tweet because I did not want to have to explain this mess.

**** Okay so like this part is pretty straightforward, but I figured I’d give a few note anyways:

The first part of the sentance here technically is skepticisim about being able to show delight, but hesitates to say that it’s okay to do so. The following sentence builds on that, which suggests that he believes that showing happiness over celebrating his birthday would be weak, but because he takes what Kiyotaka has said as advice, he presumably takes it into consideration. 

It should be noted that 相手 is usually translated to like companion, partner, or company (singular), so I considered translated it as friend but, I opted to leave it a little more vague and use somebody instead. It seems intentional that it is supposed to be a very narrow translation instead implying that this is something that should be conveyed to anyone/everyone. In conclusion, the train of thought is something like: I’m a gang leader >> It’s embarrassing to be celebrating birthday’s >> I can’t show that emotion.

Then with the following sentence: There’s strength in showing weakness >> It might be weak to show emotion but that’s okay >> I can show that emotion around some people.

[pain-in-the-butler]

Have you ever considered what a meeting of Alois would've been like with the current Dadbastian development? The anime and the 2nd season were both pretty bad in terms of uncomfortable fanservice and handling things very disrespectfully, but thinking back on Alois' character now as an adult, I really pity him as a clearly traumatised and intensely disturbed child, who through abuse has, much like Ciel, developed more 'adult behaviour' that is not appropriate for his age as a defence mechanism. It's probably thinking a bit too optimistically for Dadbastian to extend concern for those outside of his immediate phantomfam, but would you think that maybe, just maybe, Alois could trigger the same kind of protective urges as Ciel? Alternatively, if you were to write something similar to Coattails but instead for Alois and co, do you have any headcanons on how you'd otherwise depict their relationship? Dad Claude? Dlaude??? Thank u for indulging my whimsical ass & sorry for the wordvomit

Hi, anon! As a fellow whimsical ass, I'll do my best to answer your question. Boy, okay, lots to consider here...

First off, I'm not entirely sure what you mean by the phrase "current Dadbastian development", but I'm going to assume you're referring to what's happening in Coattails because I don't think there's been any Dadbastian development in the manga that I've missed.

Second off, our feelings on Alois are the same. I was nineteen when season 2 came out and I didn't like it at all, I found its handling of certain themes pretty deplorable and I mean. It was a mess. At the time, I felt indifferent to disturbed by Alois, and ultimately just went away pretending the whole season never happened. However, the current fandom has made me realize that Alois is a character with a lot of potential who was definitely in the wrong hands. It's very sweet to me how many fans still care for him as if he were their adopted son and have come out with some extremely creative and realized content of him. It gives me a better appreciation for him and what he could have been.

So now to actually attempt your question. Again, assuming you're asking about Coattails, Sebastian is only really interested in being a parent to Ciel and a caretaker of varying degrees to the rest of the Phantomfam members. I think he would be able to feel sympathy for Alois's situation, but he's no bleeding heart. I'm not really sure what the scenario is here where somehow Alois and Sebastian are getting to know each other and also Alois might want Sebastian to help him over another person already in his life? It's a little difficult to answer...

And if it was in regards to canon Seb, well... yeah, he's pretty disinterested in anyone that doesn't directly benefit or threaten his contract. I don't think he would do anything to make Alois's life better.

While I hate canon Claude, I certainly think fan content can utilize him as a father figure if they made some tweaks to his character. My bud Em has explored that in this fanfic that I enjoy, and I think she's probably a better judge of Dad-Claude than I could ever be (she might even write a longer story about it someday!). Sort of going off her example, I would keep Claude's awkward/stiff personality intact and get rid of his bad-touch vibes (obviously). Unlike Coattails Sebastian, who is accustomed to big emotions but is new to love specifically, I don't think Coattails Claude would be used to feeling anything outside of his own control. He's also not very playful so he would probably have to learn to let go of things and I just realized I'm describing Bambi's dad's journey in Bambi II so god fucking dammit I did it again—

tl;dr there are so many people who can answer this question better than I just did but uhhhh I hope this was okay 💁‍♀️

[nicsnort]

Gravita Anima (part 59)

Nightcrawler/Fem!OC/Quicksilver Long-form romance and drama fic. All chapters have been posted on Ao3.

Intro (with link to Ao3 story) First Previous

Once her daughter was away from the table, Julia Hughes looked at the boy across from her with an appraising eye. “So you think you are good enough for my daughter?”

At the question, he turned to look at Elle’s mother. He didn’t feel nervous or dread the question; in fact, he was smiling. “I do, Dr. Hughes. I believe we are good for each other. I believe God has put her in my life and me in hers to help both of us grow. Being with her, everything's better. Things taste sweeter, colors are brighter, the air is purer. I want to protect her. With the recent bill that is being voted on...we both have worried. I want to be with her to fight against it, together.” 

Dr. Hughes breathed in deeply at his words before looking him dead in the eye. “I have sacrificed a great deal for my daughter, raising her alone wasn’t easy. I want her to have the best life possible, be successful, but mostly I want her to be happy. With her powers, she has always worn her heart on her sleeve and perhaps you know this but she has been hurt by men before.”

Julia kept the wording vague in case he did not know about Micheal. “You seem to mean well and I can see Elle deeply cares for you. But I hope you can understand my concern given your...vigilantism.”

It took a great deal of effort for Kurt not to gulp at the reference to Elle being hurt before. It was unsettling that he knew more of this than she did, and it was best to keep it that way. There was a brief primal pleasure in recalling how he had teleported Pietro into confusion far away and beaten him pretty badly. His knuckles had ached the next day, but it was a welcomed ache.

Her next words, however, made him pause. His tail moved behind him slowly. “Elle has shown that she is able to keep herself safe if the worse were to happen if I could not be there. She is strong...stronger than you realize, I think. Elle has made great leaps in her power...and in control.”

Dr. Hughes nodded just a bit. “She has always been a fighter, I just never thought her body would be at risk...you seem like you are a good man, Kurt. My Elle deserves someone special and I hope you are it. Make sure she is safe and keep her happy.”

Without hesitation, he agreed: she deserved someone special. He thought briefly back to the weeks of pacing, worrying, praying, and lately stalking. He would help keep her safe. And as for happiness...when Elle returned, the kiss on his cheek made him smile. Yes, he could do that part easily enough. His tail reached out and wrapped gently around her arm in affection.

Once her daughter was back Julia excused herself to go to the bathroom as well. With her mother gone, Elle looked at Kurt. “What did she say to you?”

Kurt looked at Elle when they were alone. “The usual worries of a good mother.” He said vaguely, leaning forward to press his lips to hers boldly. “I think she likes me.” He remarked as he sat back. “This was...less terrifying than I expected. What do you think?” 

Kurt’s kiss made Elle hum with delight. “That’s good. I know she can be intimidating but I think she likes you too. Trust me if she didn’t she would let you know.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “I like being out with you, you know. It is so much better than hiding in my apartment. Thank you for not wearing your inducer. It wouldn’t be the same if you were hiding.”

Her mother wasn't the only person he had been concerned about seeing him in his natural blue, fuzzy form. Of course, her opinion mattered more by far than the rest of the people in the restaurant, but still. What if someone had said something? Become irate? He wasn't sure what might happen. Luckily though, none of that occurred.

Of course, Elle could feel some disdain and fear from the people around them but many more felt curious or simply uncomfortable. Even without her powers, she knew Kurt could feel that too in a way. Still, Elle was determined to not act differently with Kurt than she would with someone who was standard in appearance. They would run into issues at some point someday when a bigot approached them but she felt like today they were going to have a nice peaceful evening. After all, tomorrow was the Senate vote, the universe owed them a nice night out.

Dr. Hughes returned and the waiter came over with the bill. Elle’s mother paid and Elle left a hefty tip. “Well then,” Dr. Hughes said looking over at the couple. “I suppose you two better start heading back. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we’re going to be outside of the capitol until the vote is over.”

“Just be careful, dear, you never know if it is going to turn violent.”

“I know, Mom,” Elle half sighed. They all made their way out of the restaurant and walked back towards the bus stop for Elle and Kurt. At the stop, Dr. Hughes gave Elle a tight hug once more. As they pulled back her eyes went to Kurt.

“It was nice to meet you, Kurt. I look forward to seeing you again.”

When they left, he thanked Dr. Hughes profusely for dinner. He made sure that he would pick up the tab next time. Perhaps it would be nice to have her at the school...well, maybe not next time. Given how chaotic it could be at times… 

"We will be mindful tomorrow." Kurt agreed, knowing they would have to be mentally prepared for anything. It wouldn't surprise the X-Men if the Brotherhood were to make a surprise entrance. He hoped not though. 

"Yes, it was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hughes." Kurt smiled and placed his arm lightly around Elle's waist. "We will have to have dinner soon. Hopefully, it will be a celebratory one, if tomorrow goes well."

With that, they went their separate ways. Kurt kept his arm around Elle, tempted to teleport but remembering what she said about being out. Taking the normal way home would be good for them.

The weight of Kurt’s hand on her waist was pleasurable. Elle could feel the strength in his fingers and instead of possessive - as it had been with Pietro - it felt protective. She felt safe. Elle was half tempted to ask Kurt to teleport them home but it was better that they ride the bus and train. Normalization.

"Your mom is very smart and caring. I can see where you get it from." He smiled at her. "What happened to your father…?" 

Elle just shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. Mom always said that he left before I was born. I know she isn’t telling the whole truth about that but she doesn’t like talking about it. When I was a kid I was curious but I’ve gathered that whoever he was, he wasn’t a good person. So I never tried to find out more. Why should I care about a man who was never there? He’s not my father as far as I am concerned, just a sperm donor.”

Elle gave him a smile but there was a curious light in her eyes. “You’ve never really mentioned your family before. You were raised in the circus I know. Can you tell me about who raised you?” Elle wasn’t interested in biology. He had mentioned he was adopted but she was interested in those that actually cared for him.

Kurt looked thoughtful as they walked. She had said she had Elle in graduate school, a time when it would have been intense and challenging. He wondered if the father had been around at all during that time. "It is magnificent how from a kind woman and a mysterious, perhaps questionable man, you come out more like your mother and yourself than of him." Did he make a vague half-hearted parallel to his own family history? Yes, a little bit. But he couldn't deny that it was there.

He caught the way she asked about his parents. It wasn't of the ones who created him, it was of the ones who raised him. His smile softened as he thought back. "I suppose it is because it has been so long ago. I think of them often, of course, but I am called more and more to live and be grounded in the present. Still," his voice took on an airy quality of nostalgia, "I am grateful for where I came from. I was founded and raised by a fortune teller and sorceress, Margali Szardos. She was kind but she was confident in herself. I grew up in Herr Getmann’s Traveling Circus and we were wunderbar." His eyes went distant as he thought of their acts. 

“Hmmm,” Elle sighed as Kurt reminisced about the past. “Those must be some nice memories,” she commented. “You think about them so fondly. It is nice...I wish I could have seen you perform. I know it must have been spectacular. Maybe you’ll have to give me a private show one day”

Kurt’s smile complimented the twinkle in his eye. “I’d love to give you a private show -- I am sure I am flexible enough still. Wouldn’t you agree?” He teased gently with a squeeze of her waist. 

The bus pulled up and they boarded taking a seat near the back so their conversation would be private, though the bus was fairly empty. “So your mother was a fortune teller...I don’t suppose she ever saw me as a part of your fate?” Elle giggled, smiling up at him before kissing his nose. 

When they got on the bus, he was glad to see they were mostly alone. In the back of his mind, perhaps for the first of his life, he would be half-expecting a confrontation anywhere they went. He felt warm at her light, playful kiss. “Oddly enough, I don’t think I ever asked her many times for my fortune. I always thought it would be better as a surprise...and you are the greatest surprise of all.”

“You have been a wonderful surprise for me too,” Elle told Kurt. She wasn’t going to ask and instead wait for Kurt to offer but Elle hoped to meet his mother someday. If she was anything like Kurt Elle knew they would get along well.

_____

Next

Fanfic Masterlist

[edward-hydes-letters]

YOU

(The first word is crossed out, as if Robert had a flash of anger, but quickly suppressed it.)

Listen… I will admit, I still don’t feel the same about you as I do Henry, but let me make this clear, Urchin: I do not ‘hate’ you.

(There’s a mess of scribbles, as if Robert couldn’t figure out how to word things.)

You need to realise that everything has changed. I don’t get it. I don’t think I ever will. But some things make sense now, don’t you see?

The glint you had in your eyes that day… You really are a part of Henry, the part before (The last word is almost entirely scribbled out. The first letter could be an ‘M’, but it’s unclear.)

There are sides to Henry I haven’t witnessed in years. You’ve just been too much of a little mongrel for me to notice it before.

(The handwriting becomes shaky here, once again like it pained Robert to say.)

You’re… not as bad as I took you for. Even if you did burn down half of London.

You can take my offer or leave it. I know a great tavern that’s out of the way. Henry might be able to back me up, even if I’ve only brought him there once. The name ‘Charlie’ should ring a bell for him you

I’m not sure who I should refer to… Just- let me know if I should wait for your sorry arse tomorrow night. It’s depressing to be seen alone in a bar, you know! Hmph.

-Dr. Robert Lanyon

(A lot of the page is unreadable, switching between cursive and choppy writing erratically. The letter is also a bit crumpled… and damp with little droplets…)

(Eventually, the choppy writing becomes legible…)

God damn you, Lanyon. Damn you to hell.

(The cursive comes back, but only for a bit. The two seem to be discussing something, with the cursive hesitantly encouraging the choppy writing to go. The words “This could be good-” in cursive and “I’m not going with him-” in chicken scratch can be seen. You can barely make that out though, as the conversation is scribbled over…)

(Then the choppy writing come back…)

Fucking fine! I’ll be there, but only if you’re paying for the drinks. Don’t be disappointed when you find out I’m not you’re pretty boy in a different font. I am everything someone like you would hate. I’m just going for the free booze and that is it.

-Mr. Edward Hyde

(A note is written out in cursive. It’s almost all scribbled out, but you can make out one sentence, “I… hope this goes well for you, Robert.”)

[alaffy]

Only Murders in the Building, Ep.3x05 – Ah, Love! (spoilers)

Okay, I got to ask (and this is going to be a slight spoiler with no context), did no one consider going to an emergency dentist?  I know it wasn’t salvageable, but dear God in heaven.  Anyway….

I mentioned last week that I wasn’t quite getting into the mystery like I had the first two seasons.  That changed with this episode.  The three main characters all had their own storyline this episode and I plan to discuss each separately in order of what I think is important.

Mabel is going out on a stake out/dinner with Tobert.  Tobert believes that Howard’s boyfriend, and Ben’s understudy, might have something to do with the murder.  So, he invited Mabel to the lounge that the boyfriend is performing at.  Well, this is all partly true.  Tobert did believe that the boyfriend had something to do with the murder, but has changed his mind.  Still, he wanted to see Mabel so he conveniently forgot to tell her that he no longer had a suspect.  She, due to plot, doesn’t just leave his ass.  This turns out to be a good thing because Mabel happens to see the boyfriend, John I think, meet with another man.  John gives the man an envelope and the man gives Johnn a piece of paper.  Long story short, John sees Mabel and leaves.  But not before Tobert see the man and realizes it’s a doctor that Ben’s saw.  Tobert only knows him as Dr. C and he doesn’t know why Ben sees him.  Mabel takes Tobert to her apartment to add Dr. C to the board and because Mabel needs a love interest, I guess.  Sorry, but I don’t think this will go anywhere (the suspect and the romance).

Speaking of love interests, Charles has to figure out a way to ask Joy about the lipstick in the dressing room.  Not surprisingly, Joy doesn’t take well to being accused of murder. She decides she’s going to go to taste the wedding cakes by herself.  But before she leaves, Sazz happens to show up bearing a wedding gift.  Now, here’s the thing, last week I felt that something was suspicious about Joy and her relationship with Charles.  Now, I’m just confused.  See, Sazz also knows Joy and is shocked that Charles would think Joy killed anyone.  And, long story short, Sazz is able to make Charles realize that his anxiety from his relationship comes from the fact that he’s afraid of joy (that is joy or happiness, not the woman).  Anyway, Joy comes home and we find out that she was in Ben’s dressing room because she had to cover a welt on his face as he had been hit.  Something that Charles knew, well he knew Ben had a welt, because Charles hit him (we’ll get to the why in a moment).  Of course, in trying to explain everything to Joy, Charles lets it slip that he didn’t mean to purpose to Joy.  And she seemed generally surprised by this, which surprised me because I figured she had tricked him into believing he proposed.  But then Joy said something about she had hoped he was changing, by which I think she meant that…she’s known him a long time and I think, maybe, she’s been hooked on him for awhile, but didn’t say anything because of certain parts of his behavior.  And I think she thought those parts weren’t part of him anymore and took a chance.  Or maybe she was trying to change him.  I don’t know…I still feel like something’s off here.

But let’s move on to Oliver.  And this is where my attention was really drawn.  So, brief overview Oliver is on his first date with Loretta and it doesn’t go well at first.  She tries to cook him a meal, but the meat is too tough and Oliver ends up losing a tooth.  Loretta takes him on a ferry trip in order to throw the tooth overboard under a bridge (look, it’s…yeah) and then Oliver and Loretta go back to her place to “have dessert.”  But there a several things that happen during this story that are interesting. 

During the meal, Loretta mentions that she’s played a bunch of pig roles and then says the words “fucking pig.”  Then, she specifically references Ben as a “fucking pig,” but doesn’t elaborate at that time. 

Then, on the ferry, Loretta pulls out this doobie that, long story short, was rolled by Oliver at Grace Slick’s (?) birthday party at Studio 54.  Both Oliver and Loretta were at that party.  Oliver mentions that they must have run in the same crowds, but somehow never met each other.  However, Loretta says that she, in fact, noticed him and wanted to be in one of his productions.  However, she seemed to have bad luck and was never able to try out until now.  So, now we’re establishing that she’s known of Oliver for awhile.

Later, she confesses to Oliver the reason why she called Ben a “fucking pig.”  Turns out that they had a fight just before the play was to open.  Loretta claims that Ben told her that he didn’t want to share the stage with a nobody and we do see a flashback where Ben has grabbed Loretta and there is some sort of fight going on.  Now, we don’t know exactly what was said, but we do know that Ben grabbed Loretta as Charles saw Loretta trying to get away from Ben and, that is why Charles hit Ben.  Also, going back to the end of season two; Charles tells Ben to "stay away from her." Well, we seem to know who "her" is now.

Finally, at the end of the episode, Loretta and Oliver are in bed together.  Loretta gets up to draw a bath for the both of them and Oliver begins to look around the apartment.  There, hidden on a bookcase, he happens to see a newspaper clipping about Ben peaking out of a book.  Oliver pulls out the book and it turns out to be a scrapbook filled with articles about Ben.  What makes this even more disturbing is that it is clear that book isn’t new.  The pages are kind of brown, it’s clear that the books been used for quite some time; so she’s been following Ben’s career for a while.  The question is, why?  I mean, I still don’t think she’s the killer.  But she seems to take Ben’s behavior very much to heart.  There’s a connection between them that we’re missing. 

What do we know about Ben’s family?  He did say once that his childhood acting career paid the bills.  I would wonder if Ben was Loretta’s child, but then that doesn’t make sense as we also have Ben’s brother.  Unless, of course, Ben was adopted or Ben is only his half-brother.  I don’t really believe this is where they’re going with this…at the same time, it also wouldn’t surprise me if that’s where they’re going.    

[rumblelibrary]

Have you ever thought about writing a continuation to Unofficial Meeting? I'm dying to know whether Laszlo earns the reader's forgiveness and if she accepts his proposal or not. Have a good day! 😚

Undisclosed Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Laszlo self deprecating himself hard

A/N: how could I give up a chance to make my boy Laszlo happy? Thank you so much for requesting it, it really made me happy to have an old story requested. Here is the original story

“Are you even listening to me?”

Violet inquired as you blinked surprised and taken aback. She invited you over for an afternoon tea, but your mind kept wondering off to what happened between you and Laszlo. You haven’t seen him in over a month and to be honest you missed him. The first few days you were firm on your choice, he upset you and your family, he crossed your boundaries mindlessly.

But then you realised how he meant to ask your hand to your father, how he never meant for you to be hurting, he just wanted to make it official.

Your grandmother tried to talk you out of your anger but she didn’t managed to, it was over anyway. You upset each other, you closed that chapter.

If you have feelings for him that chapter is not closed, your grandmother told you but you tried to ignore it. You haven’t seen him in so long, not even at some event or where you’d usually expect him to be. He kept sending you flowers to you until the end of the previous month. That silly man, always hating to leave things halfway done.

“I am, I am just a bit tired” you said as she waved her hand 

“nonsense ” she said offering you to try some sweets while she stood up to call her maid and gather what she meant to show you “I’ll show you now the latest Paris fashion and you’ll have to wake up” 

She was your friend, she was sweet and she knew you were on a rough patch now and she did all in her power t keep you distracted.

“Charles stop it”

John’s voice rang through you ears as you stood up to see what was going on from the window facing the luscious back garden of the Moore residence. Little Charles was the spit image of his parents and an adventurer at heart, you could tell from the way he kept his father busy running after him.

You smiled as John gave up opening his arms in defeat.

“What I have to do?” He groaned making you chuckle as for a moment it looked like he was asking to God, but when you noticed that he was in fact talking to Dr Kreizler who was sitting on a bench. You codlin’t help but rest your eyes on him, he looked pale, tired like he wasn’t sleeping. He was like this during investigations but as far as you knew there was no one at the moment.

“Wat you have to do John? Let the boy be” he said as a tired smile crept onto his lips.

“Yes, he will break his skull in a second”

Laszlo shook his head looking at him “If you prevent him from doing anything he won’t never learn” he said as he spoke matter of factly but that tiredness in his voice was evident. You wondered what kept him up.

You wondered if t was your fault.

But then you saw the sweet look he had for the child as he picked a ball that was hiding behind his back to give it to him to play with.

He was so good with kids, it was incredible.

You knew it was his job, but the tenderness he showed with them was something you felt on your own skin as you used to be allowed to be part of that special round of people that got to see him being sweet.

You moved away from the window just in time for Violet to come back, her maids holding onto over twenty new items of clothing.

“V” you said to her as the use of that little nickname sparked already her attention “I have to ask you a favour”

It was dead in the evening when Laszlo got asked from Violet to meet a friend of hers with a child with various problems.

The symptoms she described didn’t really add up, they should be excluding each other. But no matter what he decided to go there. 

He usually was very firm about his privacy and the times he could meet or not patients, even though the secrecy of the hour would be typical of a wealthy family trying to hide some kind of a problem they judge as shameful, he also came to a point where work was all he got.

He missed you, everything reminded him of you. He hoped to see, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to have handed a dollar or two to your maid to at least know how are you.

He didn’t mean to stalk you, he just wanted you happy and once more he was acting behind your back. But your maid told him you were fine and doing your business, so he stopped inquiring. He didn’t deserve you in the first place anyway, but how things ended really pained him, he really thought to be doing right and he really wanted to have a future with you, to have many what John has.

But what nonsense thinking about it now that it is all gone and by his own hand, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As he arrived to the building he got inside surprised not to find anyone at service but only an open door.

The instinct would have told him to go away, but he was reckless by now, he already lost what he cared the most.

Walking inside the candlelit hallway he was surprised to get to a large living room only to find you there.

The truth was that he stopped on his track to admire you. You were amazing, he adored you in any possible shape and form, everything from your clothing to your composure screamed for his eyes to be fixated onto you.

He took that moment to look at you, take in your image, last time you two spoke you were so upset and he didn’t want that to be the last image he had of you.

“I am more discreet than you when I have to do things in secret” you said and he smiled lightly

“You’re”

His admission, the tiredness of his look just paining you.

“Is this a house of your family?”

“Yes, it is my aunt’s but she is on some cruise with her husband”

He nodded quietly as he looked around moving closer to you, the candles around you making him feel like the moment was set in another time.

“You didn’t have to make an appointment to meet me”

“Well, I asked a friend for a favour, I could have paid Stevie to drive you here anyway” you answered, basically hinting him that your maid didn’t keep his little inquiring a secret between the two of you.

He nodded gulping down, he felt like he was naked in front of you, defenceless and anything you could attack him with would really hurt. 

“I though that after our last conversation we needed to speak alone and in a neutral ground, I attacked you and I know I moved past my means”

“Just like I did inquiring about your life without permission” he concluded for you, he kept thinking about that day over and over, he couldn’t take it out of his mind and he even thought it would be easy only because so many people hated him already, button you. He wished you’d never be one of them.

“Miss Y/L/N” the fact he used your last name showing how he was trying to prove you some respect, not using your first name like you’re somehow close, mostly because he doubts you’d wish him close at any time.

“All I have ever wanted was to be worth of you”

His words trembling, like snakes sliding onto your skin.

He opened his mouth to say something and he closed it as he stared somewhere away from you, he shook his head slowly. The pain visible through him.

“I am a despicable failure as a human being, I know it” he said as he rose his hand to invite your silence “I have spent my life trying to find a common language  to get through people, studying them ,making sure to be able to read human behaviour to allow myself the freedom of interaction. I am not a natural like John, I can’t just go on a group and charm my way through it and I knew, I knew from the moment you allowed me to be close to you that I would ruin it because I am such social wreck, because I can’t control myself or I can’t not follow the rules that I have been told are the right path to follow”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked down and then up at you, he was trying to hold back tears but the truth was that he cried for losing you, He cried for nights and days.

“I apologise once more, I wanted to do you right and I just overstepped you. I always admired you for your being independent and clever and I reduced you to an object with my insensitive behaviour. I always make myself strong from talking my way through people and I blindsided you when words were the most needed”

You looked at him as maybe for the first time he really throw away the mask, he really let himself speak up.

“I valued what you did for me” you blinked at him surprised, your head slightly falling on side to observe him.

He was going down the self deprecating himself hill, you could almost count how much time there was between him going down onto his arm topic. You know that was always his undisclosed weakness, how he hated it and saw himself as unlovable because imperfect.

“It is yes”

He looked at you with a frown not seeing what you mean.

“My answer for your question”

He frowned even more, what question? You could hear it resonate into his mind as he didn’t ask you anything, he came to you to apologise and…

And then he got it.

His eyes widened as he opened his mouth only to close it again.

No, he was probably misunderstanding, once more reading badly the situation.

You picked your left glove slowly taking it off to show him you were wearing his ring on your hand.

He stared at you, his hand hesitantly moving to pick yours bringing it up to his lips and resting a kiss over it, his hand holding yours as he stared up at you.

His wet eyes now unmistakable from cha closeness, the signs of his lack of sleep visible.

“In a marriage there shouldn’t be secrets, I tried to avoid something shameful for me when you allowed me to see every part of you” you admitted as you weren’t free from blame, you referred to pretend something wasn’t there rather than facing it.

He stared at you with shaky breath, as he licked his lips trying to find words.

“I love you Laszlo, I really want to be your wife”

His jaw trembled as the happiness rushed over him like electricity, his hand bringing yours over his heart beating so fast and hard that he felt it could explode.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as you caressed his cheek with your right hand as he leaned down, still not daring to believe what was happening.

So you just did it, you leaned in closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.

The times were changed.

Women could accept wedding proposals without their father’s approval, men could cry for love and love words were made of truths and exposed weaknesses and not by the words of dusty poets. And with such strong ideals you could only imagine your life as set up for a greater kind of happiness with him.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Y/n meets her savior and officially joins the investigation. 

@deadman-inc-bikeshop @viviace and @dovahdokren here you go. If you want to be on the tag list, send me a DM. 

Trigger warnings: dissociation, implied sex abuse/trafficking, discussions of death, drugs

It was only when the man left your line of sight that your senses started to return. And even then, you felt like you were on a separate plane of existence from everything happening around you. You were floating, completely numb to your surroundings, letting the world push you wherever it needed you to be.

You weren't entirely sure how you made it from the dumpsters to the FBI headquarters, but there you were.

You listened in on the conversation happening in the other room. From what you could tell, the man who saved you was arguing with his boss.

"Because if there's so much as a Tylenol in her system, you're going to pass it off to the DEA." The man said, his voice soft but firm. This wasn't the first time they had this argument and it showed.

"Will, it is not my fault that the DEA gets preferential treatment." The boss sounded exhausted. "We have a better chance of catching this man with their resources. And we can't turn a blind eye to how substances affect human behavior. I thought you of all people would accept this."

"What if there's nothing in her system?" The man posited. "Then all we have to work with is our own resources. Would that be so bad?"

"Look," the boss said, clearly trying to diffuse the situation. "We can't determine anything until forensics gets lab results back tomorrow. For now, see what you can find out from the waitress. She was able to keep her talking, maybe we can find out about what."

The man resignedly left the room and made his way to you. You glanced around the hallway, hoping he wouldn't notice that you've been eavesdropping.

He sat on the opposite end of the bench. You pulled the security blanket from the ambulance tighter around your shoulders.

"I know this is such a stupid, insensitive thing to ask," the man broke the silence. "But are you okay?"

"If it makes you feel any better," you sighed and dropped your shoulders. "I wasn't really okay to begin with."

"Yeah." The man agreed. "It doesn't matter how much you break something, it's still broken. Broken is a... Boolean value."

"It's just that.." You clutched the receipt between your fingers. "Just as I thought things were starting to improve, the universe sends me a cultist strapped to a bomb. I'm never going to recover from this."

"I don't think anyone expects you to." He said. "My name's Will, by the way."

"[F/N]." You said, just for formality's sake. He already knew your name. "I don't think I ever properly thanked you for saving my life."

"Don't worry about it." Will smiled weakly. "If you think you can, though, it would be innumerably helpful if you told us what happened."

You knew you weren't in a position to be asking for favors, but you were desperate. "Could I maybe stay with you for a while?"

Will hovered his hand over yours as if asking for permission. You took it, perhaps a little too eagerly.

"I'll stay with you as long as you want."

Will's presence made it easier to tell the man, whom you learned was the head of the Behavioral Science Unit of the FBI, everything that progressed that night.

"And then she started chanting that one bible verse about the martyrs inheriting the kingdom of heaven." You finished. "That was when Will shot her in the leg."

The director, whose name you learned was Jack Crawford, took a moment to ponder the information. You felt like a child that had been sent to the principal's office.

"Do you have any reason to believe that the woman was under the influence of any drugs? Alcohol?" Jack asked, resting his hands on the desk.

"Not with any certainty, no. I didn't see her ingest anything." You shook your head. "If she was under any influence at all, it was probably against her will."

"What makes you say that?" Jack cocked his head. "In your own time, of course."

"She was..." you glanced at Will, just to remind yourself that he was there. "Scared. Nothing she said had any conviction behind it. It was like she was a hostage being forced to read a fake suicide letter."

"What about these 'cult names' you mentioned?" Jack said. "What significance do you think they have?"

"She kept referring to Chase as 'vanguard'." You began.

"That's what Keith Raniere called himself." Jack interrupted. "Keith Raniere was the head of a sex trafficking cult."

"And the only reason I know that is because I listen to a lot of podcasts." You felt the need to explain. "I'm not sure how Mulvaney decided it would be a fitting title. Maybe he identified with Raniere."

"Did the woman call herself something, too?" Jack leaned in.

"Funny you should mention that," You forced a laugh. "Because she referred to herself as an 'unwoman'."

"That is interesting." Jack brought his hand to his temple, perhaps trying to convince you that he knew what ‘unwoman’ meant.

"He probably thinks Handmaid's Tale is some kind of instruction manual." You said, emphasizing the title of the work. 

“Handmaid’s Tale!” Jack exclaimed, suddenly understanding. "So, are you thinking maybe he's running a breeding cult?"

“Like a borrasca.” You turned to Will, hoping that maybe he would understand what that meant.

As if on cue, a woman in a lab coat burst into the room. 

“Dr. Katz,” Jack announced, taken aback by her urgency. “Welcome.” 

“Jack, you’re going to want to see this.” Dr. Katz said simply. 

Jack stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, Ms. [L/N], Will. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

Again, you were alone with Will. 

“I’m...” Will broke the silence, pausing to find the right words. “Jack isn’t as scary as he looks. He just has a habit of asking too much of people. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’re perfectly within your rights to tell him to back off.” 

You shook your head. “That wouldn’t feel right.”

“Tell me about it.” Will muttered and leaned back in his chair. “It does seem pretty out of character for him to want to drop the whole case on the DEA, but he does have a point about their resources. You can’t argue with money.” 

“No.” You agreed. “You can’t.” 

Will sighed. “I’m sorry. The last thing you probably want to hear about is FBI in-fighting after almost being killed twice in a two-week period.”

“It doesn’t really inspire confidence, no.” You said. 

“Let’s talk about something else.” He offered. “Do you like... fishing?” 

You laughed at his strange attempt at making conversation, but answered honestly. “I used to go fishing with my grandpa when I was a kid.” 

Realizing he’d tapped into a happy memory, Will decided to follow it. “Where did he take you?” 

“My grandparents had this lake house up in Michigan.” You reminisced. “On this dinky little manmade lake where all the rich boomers took their spoiled grandkids for the summer.” 

“Did you ever catch anything?” He shared a little smile.

You realized that he was doing the same thing to you that you did to the unwoman. He was trying to keep you talking to avoid, or at least prolong, some catastrophic event. But he was doing it for your sake. You appreciated that. 

“We pulled up a ton of bluegills, some walleyes, occasionally a bass.” You listed. “One time he and his brother-in-law settled a dispute by seeing who could catch a catfish first. They were outside all day.” 

“Did he ever take you downstate to go fishing on Lake Erie?” 

You stared vacantly ahead. “He wanted to.” 

Will lowered his head in respect. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It was, like, fourteen years ago.” You admitted. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Still,” Will shrugged. “Grief takes a lot out of you. I’m sorry for bringing it up, I had no idea.”

“At this point, most avenues in my life end in death. It’s not your fault.” You smiled at him. “Thanks for trying, though.” 

You settled into another prolonged but comfortable silence. 

“I think Jack is going to arrange to get you into some kind of protective custody, by the way.” He said, shifting his body to face you. “And I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice now that he knows Chase is targeting you, specifically.” 

“Yeah, I was thinking about that.” You answered. “I think they’re probably going to insist I quit my job, too.” 

“You sound disappointed.” Will nodded. “You’ve grown to like that job, huh?” 

“I was good at it.” You admitted. “My boss was gunning for me to take over when he retired. I had big plans for that place. I know waitressing is supposed to be a job that’s ‘just a job’ but--” 

“You had ambition.” Will finished. “You were making an investment for your future.” 

For the first time in a while, you felt heard. “Right.” 

“If you would permit me to say,” Will stood up and walked towards Jack’s desk. “I think you would be an invaluable asset to this investigation.” 

You leaned on the armrest. “I don’t know, Will. I feel like I would just get in the way.” 

“But the sooner we catch this sick fuck, the sooner you can get back to your restaurant.” He said, grabbing a post-it note. He gestured to you with a pen. “And I will do everything in my power to get you back to that restaurant.”

“Why?” You asked. “I’m just a waitress.” 

“Your profile of Chase Mulvaney in your TattleCrime interview was a work of genius.” Will took off his glasses. “And it was incendiary enough to make him come back for you. It wasn’t just a cocaine-fueled bout of murderous hysterics. He remembered you. Now, throughout this investigation, Jack has been ignoring me. But maybe he’ll listen to you.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” You raised an eyebrow. “What then?” 

Will sighed and leaned back on the desk. “Then I do it myself.” 

“Fuck it.” You said, the complete contents of your soul behind those two little words. If he was going to raise the stakes, by god you were going to match him. “I don’t have much else to live for, so might as well die for something.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Will agreed. 

[jediknightjameslunagazer23]

@theblueskyphoenix @dreamstormdragon

I hope it's okay to show this as fanart given Chapter 9 has been completed and out for an while now, but decided to draw Dr. Tyler Chase for this fanart, using his flashback design, as I felt it would fit, I could honestly see Tyler just having an moment like this where he just breaks down in guilt and prays for forgiveness of taking so many lives just to give them peace.

Tyler was kinda difficult to draw, but I managed somehow the tears were the hard part along with what colour glow I wanted to give to his sigil, decided to mix things up with red and grey, honestly this could work for an What lies within drawing for Tyler.

Also did an James Lunagazer in redesigned Ancient Greek outfit for once he learns that he's got Apollo's powers, trust me, this drawing went through the most changes as I struggled to figure what colours would work, as I didn't want to completely lose the blue for James, so decided to mix both blue and gold together with some silver here and there.

James was going to have an headdress like Tyler, but I figured it would be overused so I chose to go with an sun inspired headdress, and I know that this Apollo design might not be what the manga depicts depending if someone has Apollo later down the line, but I have the idea that maybe the God's appearance changes depending on the user as an way of explaining it.

As for the sigil, I wasn’t completely sure what to give James, as even though Apollo is Asclepius' father, I didn’t want James to have the same sigil Derek and probably Naomi have, so I went with the devotion to Apollo symbol and gave James green as his eye colour for his powers, sort of like mixing his clothing colours, and it symbolically adds to him slowly making steps to reconciling his painful aspects of the past and moving forward into the future.

For James' actual powers, I'd figure it would be something to do with an lyre motif in terms of sound, an possible name being the "Soothing Choir" like for example, say James was dealing with an extremely anxiety filled patient, his voice would change tone to an soothing aura and it can calm said patient and relieve their pain for an time.

Another possibility considering I'm going with the idea that Apollo has multiple powers being the father of Asclepius and healing, is that James can possibly hear certain "melodies" in an patient's body, allowing him to find problems faster by detecting "discords" in the melody, sort of like Mood Matrix from Ace Attorney pretty much it would be heightened hearing, one such draw back could be that if overused James could risk going deaf for an time along with sensory overload.

And another could do more with the bow and arrow, like James could find certain weak points in G.U.I.L.T strains and then accurately strike them like an arrow similar to Derek's healing touch and references plague arrows from Apollo, except it would be used to save lives.

Pretty much James could be more leaning to an support type kind of role, but he can attack if required, the reason I paired him and Tyler together is that I feel that if I did an fanfic exploring James' side story in the manga verse, these two would mesh as they are similar in someways, like both have an little sister that falls ill but their methods in those scenarios are different and that could lead to parallels along with clashes, but ultimately they come to an understanding and form an brotherhood.

Also just an funny idea I've thought of is if the Greek gods were able to interact in the astral plane, Asclepius and Apollo could possibly have an bit of an father and son moment, as James and Derek are both bewildered and weirded out by.

And that's mostly my ideas and fanart at this time, hope that some of it sounds good with what I've thought of!

[spencersankleholster]

XOXO, Spencer

A/N: This is my first fic so I hope you like it! Basically, Y/N performs at an open mic and Spencer is there. They meet, smut ensues, yadayada.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (f receiving),

Spencer didn’t usually like bars. They were too loud, too sticky, and because of his sobriety he couldn’t drink anyway, but tonight Morgan and Garcia had dragged him to an open mic at their favorite bar. Garcia had a friend performing, and Morgan was just there to pick up artsy college girls.

As Spencer walked into the bar, he automatically felt stressed. His germophobia and general social anxiety were quickly taking over. Despite every instinct in his body telling him to go home, to run, he stayed, if only for his friends' sake. They were having so much fun, and he’d hate to ruin a night out.

Spencer sat and drank Shirley Temples as acts continued to rotate through. Garcia’s friend was alright, if a bit dull, but he clapped loud anyway. Some acts were good, some were mildly painful, and most were rather unmemorable. Until you stepped on stage.

“Hey, guys! I’m Y/N, and tonight I’ll be performing a cover of Moon Song by Phoebe Bridgers! I’m, uh, I’m gonna get started now, but uh, I hope you enjoy!”

Spencer gave you a small smile as you fumbled through your introduction. You were never one for performing in public, but when you saw the poster for the open-mic in the hall of your dorm, you felt the urge to sign up. You thought, what’s the worst that could happen? Now, on stage, you hated the confident person that signed you up just two days ago. You could feel the audience watching you, and the feeling was terrifying. Finally, you closed your eyes and strummed the first chords.

“You asked to walk me home, but I had to carry you-“

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't entranced by you the moment you started singing. Even if he weren’t a profiler he’d be able to see the pure emotion and heart you put into music. It didn’t matter that the song wasn’t yours, he could tell you fully felt it. As you hit the last verse, and your face contorted with emotion, Spencer realized that he hadn’t breathed the entire time.

As you came back to earth after the performance, you looked into the faces of the crowd, waiting for a reaction. You met eyes with a young man - he was absolutely gorgeous, with big, kind-looking brown eyes, prominent cheekbones, and soft long brown hair. He gave you an earnest smile, and you sent one right back. As the clapping subsided and you walked off stage, you couldn’t help but look back at him over and over.

As you sat back at your table, he got up and head to the bar, and before you knew it you were following him.

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you said quietly to him. He turned, looking surprised when he saw it was you.

“Oh, hi! Uh, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Doctor?” You replied

“Yeah, I uh, I have a few PHDs.” He said awkwardly

“Well then, nice to meet you Dr. Spencer Reid.” You said, smiling at his soft and endearing nature.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N. You were great up there, by the way. You looked like you were really getting into the music.”

“Really? I sometimes make this weird face when I sing, I hope that didn’t show up.” You chuckled

“Not at all. You were beautiful.” and you could tell, he truly meant it.

You spent the next hours talking about various subjects - food, literature, music, and most interestingly, his job as a profiler.

“So you’re like a mind-reader?” You asked excitedly

“Well, not really.” He laughed

“Profile me!” you said. He looked hesitant, but Spencer couldn’t resist the eagerness in your eyes. After making sure that you really wanted this, he began.

“Well, you’re obviously a college student, but I don’t think you major in music. You were nervous getting on stage and you likely don’t perform much, even for friends or family, but the callouses on your fingers tell me that you spend a lot of time with your guitar. You’re probably majoring in a humanity instead, and music is just for fun and self-expression. Small family, maybe a sibling or two, and I’d say that you’re the youngest. Oh, and from your sweatshirt I can say that you’re probably from New England.”

You looked down at your red sox sweatshirt and gave him a big grin. “Almost all correct, Dr. Reid, but I’m a middle child.”

“Dang it.” he huffed.

The rest of the night was spent laughing at each other's jokes and flirtatious banter. Eventually, Morgan and Garcia left for the night, giving Reid discreet thumbs up on their way out, but he barely noticed. You were both so involved in your conversation that you didn’t realize the bar had emptied out, and you were the last two left.

“Hey, guys, can you get out so I can go home?” The tired bartender said. Realizing the time, you both quickly went outside into the biting November night.

“God, it’s freezing! It wasn’t this cold when I went in!” You whined. You hadn’t worn a coat, it was 60 degrees when you left the house, but it being 1 am the temperatures had dropped significantly. Spencer shucked off his overcoat, handing it to you. Underneath, he wore a cozy blue sweater with a white t-shirt peeking out of the collar and a plaid scarf. Wrapping his coat around you, he felt nervous. A pretty girl, standing next to him in the middle of the night, wrapped in his coat. It sounds like a romance novel, but here he was living it.

“Won’t you be cold?” You said, looking concerned.

“Don't worry about me,” He said running a hand across your cheek, “I can handle it.”

Feeling his hand on your cheek, you started leaning toward him. He leaned in too, and soon your lips were locked in a warm embrace, chasing off the cold winter air. The two of you kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity, which was entirely too short. When you broke apart, neither of you felt so cold anymore.

“I don’t live too far from here, so if you wanted a nightcap, maybe some coffee, we could head over there?” Spencer said. He hadn’t invited many girls back to his apartment before, and doing so made him nervous, but when you softly replied “Yes” that all went away.

Holding hands, the two of you traipsed through the night, wrapped in each other’s warmth. When you reached his apartment, you stopped to kiss him before opening the door. Quickly, the kiss deepened, and the two of you kept kissing even as Spencer was opening the door. Fumbling through his apartment, knocking into walls and large stacks of books, you made it to his bedroom. Spencer hoisted you up to sit on top of his dresser and began kissing your neck. You moaned as he slowly nipped and licked down your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist and lightly grinded into his cock. Spencer moaned against you and quickly began grinding as well.

When Spencer moved away from you, you thought you had done something wrong, but a split second later he was pulling up the hem of your shirt and looking to you for permission. You peeled off your sweatshirt, leaving you in a thin tank top and bralette. Spencer leaned back in to kiss you and began massaging your boobs over the tank top.

“Why don’t we get this off too?” He breathed, referring to your tank top. You nodded and Spencer pulled the garment off of your body, leaving you in your fairly see-through bralette and jeans. To even the score a bit, Spencer then pulled off his own sweater, and seeing your opportunity, you helped him to shirk off the tight white t-shirt underneath as well. Moving to his bed, you sat straddling his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. He ogled you for a second, and then in one swift motion pulled off the remaining fabric covering your chest. Not wasting a moment, Spencer leaned in and began sucking on your boobs, moaning lightly against them.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” You moaned as he lightly bit down on your nipples. While still attached to your breast, he started unbuttoning your pants. Flipping you over with your back lying on the bed, he pulled down your jeans. You stared in awe as he knelt at the end of the bed, kissing up your calves and thighs, slowly teasing you. It was agonizing waiting for him to reach your core, but when he did, the wait was made worth it. He began by slowing licking up your heat, and then began sucking your clit. While still licking you, he eased his long fingers inside of you, curling up into your g-spot. With his tongue circling your clit and his two middle fingers hitting your g-spot, you could feel your climax quickly approaching.

“Please, fuck, Spencer!” You pleaded, making him go faster. Almost immediately, that wave of pleasure hit you like a truck, and you came on his tongue.

Panting, you sat up a bit, looking at the gorgeous sight of Spencer lapping up the rest of your juices. As soon as he finished, you pulled him up by the back of his neck and kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Trying to pay him back, you leaned down and unzipped his pants, wanting to suck his cock, but he stopped you.

“No, baby, there's no time for that. I just want to be inside you.” There was no arguing with that. You pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his fully hard cock, pink and dripping with pre-cum. As much as Spencer loved the sight of you staring at his member, he wanted to get down to business. He reached to grab a condom from his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I have an IUD and I got tested last week. Clean. How about you?” you said

“I haven't been with anyone since I last got tested, and I was clean then. You wanna do this?”

“God, yes.” You replied.

Wasting no time, Spencer got on top of you and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed into you.

“Good girl, so tight for me.” He breathed. You moaned as you adjusted to his size, and after a moment, Spencer began to move. He went slowly at first, trying not to hurt you, but you were having none of that.

“Faster!” You demanded, and he listened. Picking up the pace, Spencer rocked into you, his hair cascading over his face and sweat dripping down his forehead. Instincts kicked in, and Spencer kept going faster and faster. He then pulled you against his chest, kissing you as he felt your walls contract around him. You felt his cock slip out of you, and his hands holding your face.

“Get on all fours, baby.” He commanded. You quickly obliged and turned over onto your hands and knees. Spencer moaned as he groped your ass and lined his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you faster this time, eliciting a loud moan from both of you, and then began to thrust hard. You could nearly feel him in you stomach, and from the way his cock was twitching inside of you and your walls tightening around him, you knew you would both climax soon.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moaned. At this, Spencer sped up, now hitting your G spot perfectly. He grunted loudly with every thrust, and pulled your back against his chest to get an even deeper angle. Your climax came quickly after that, and you could feel yourself tightening even further. You screamed all the way through your high. A moment later, Spencer let out a loud moan and you felt yourself being filled with his cum. Spencer pulled himself out of you, and panting, you both crashed onto the bed. Spencer wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead, and then said,

“I loved hearing you sing earlier. And a minute ago.”

You laughed at the joke, still a little out of breath, and cuddled even closer to Spencer. Your head on his chest, you both fell asleep without a worry in the world.

The next morning, you woke up alone in his bed. Confused, you looked around, but then noticed a post-it note stuck to your hand.

“Y/N - Sorry for leaving so suddenly, but duty calls! I had an amazing time and I hope you did too. There’s a croissant on the table and there's still coffee in the pot, so help yourself, just lock the door behind you when you leave. Here’s my number, so call or text and maybe we can do this again. XOXO, Spencer.”

[dethkomic]

I have a theory about the Doomstar in DSR granting Dethklok their powers. Is this also true for Nita and would she be getting the same power from something similar, or perhaps the Doomstar itself?

Get ready for a marathon question-answer-a-thon because I'm sick and it's helping me pass the time, goofballs!

So, I think in answer to the above, it's a solid maybe. I don't want to come off as knowing more than I know (which is very little to begin with in a lot of respects, hurr) but the theory you've posed, I believe is widely speculated as canon or practically canon. To me at least, it looked like the Doomstar was imbuing Dethklok with... well... something. And if that's going to lead to what most fans commonly refer to as their "god powers" or whatever coming to light, then it won't surprise me.

As for Nita, she isn't a God, if that's the implied question, here. But where she gets her powers from would potentially be the same source (whatever that is). Regardless, I don't think I'll explore that until we get some solid answers from the finale, if we do. For now, though, I'm on the side that assumes your theory is correct as it pertains to Dethklok, at least. Ask anyone -- I'm always on board for supermassive celestial entities going about distributing raw power to metal bands.

And it appears you have two questions in my pile, @hercannonyourface

Yes.

Caja is her legal name before she decided to shorten it to its male form, Caj. Skwisgaar might be doing this because he's known her since she was using her feminine name, or he might be doing it to be a dick.

As a writer, I just think it's great point of interest that she's genderfluid enough to give zero shits when Toki refers to her as 'he/him' with her preference being 'she/her' (and that the script for the very next update will see her apparently referring to herself as 'daddy'), but it drives her batshit insane that Skwis still calls her Caja.

Here again, I don't want to confirm any false assumptions that I know more than I do. I am using the Falconback logo in parts of this story as a sort of branding, and not a real allusion to the project as a whole. I feel it's just easier when it comes to plot devising to utilize it as something easily associated with General Crozier (at least, for the audience... frankly I'm damn impressed Pickles' fuzzy brain was on it enough to put the fact that he saw it on a missile's casing, and again on Cherry's tracking device, together).

tl;dr: We won't see the actual Project Falconback in this story. It's too early for it. But here again, since we know how season 2 ended, I've left it open enough to allow for the conclusion of canon to happen without anything within dethkomic getting in the way. At least, I hope I did. Watch us get a "it was all just a cocaine dream" or something for an ending. okay, I'm gonna shut up and not will that into existence, right now

Oh, for sure. Can't put out fever dream art and leave people hanging.

When it comes to knowing a little bit more about the girls in general, you're going to get a lot of back-stories right out of the gates once I start chapter four, here. I realize I have a lot of ground to cover in what I'm planning to be just 25 pages of 'komic left to go, and I don't want to have all the breadcrumbs I've been leaving lead to nothing.

You might be able to discern a few things from just the questions I've answered here, in fact, but I promise there's a lot more on the table, and I do have a script laid out that takes it somewhere. That goes for all corners of this question and what it could mean: The girls themselves, their mission and what it really is, as well as their connection to Dethklok on the prophecy front.

That's all I've got the brain power for, for now., gang Thanks for your questions as always, and remember... Dethkomic loves you!

[boldlyvoid]

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU

Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)

Part 1: Ed Kemper.

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon

word count: 3.9K

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.

He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.

Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.

14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.

All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.

The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.

To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.

She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.

"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”

It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.

“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”

"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.

He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Hmm?" He turned around.

"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.

"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."

He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.

"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."

"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."

"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.

"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."

"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.

"I know." She smiled back at him.

The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.

"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."

He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.

"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"

They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked. 

Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.

"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."

"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."

He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”

"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.

"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."

"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."

"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."

"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."

The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.

"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.

He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"

"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.

"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."

He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.

"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."

"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."

Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.

"Why?" A student asked.

"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."

"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."

"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"

"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.

"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."

The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.

"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."

"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."

"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.

"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.

"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."

"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.

"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""

"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."

"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.

"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.

“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."

"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.

"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"

"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."

Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.

"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."

"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."

"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.

"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."

"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.

"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."

Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.

"Any questions?"

Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."

Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."

"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."

"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."

"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.

“That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.

Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”

That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”

“What did he do?”

Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”

The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.

“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”

Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.

“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”

The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.

“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”

“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”

He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”

Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”

“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.

“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.

Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”

“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."

“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.

“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”

“I know,” she smiled.

“Who’s your father?”

“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”

“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.

“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”

He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile

She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”

“I’d love to.”

taglist: (message me if you want to be added or removed)

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!yunho

aristocrat!yunho x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

trigger warning(s): description of an anxiety attack, brief description of death, memory loss. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: i swear this wasn’t supposed to be this long sdkjflds

none of the pictures are mine!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

eldest son of a duke

okay, so

among nobility, the jeon family are well respect but considered to be a bit,,,eccentric

they adhere to all the social expectations expected amongst nobles, but their attitude towards non-nobility is what sets them apart

though most noble families are polite when interacting with non-nobility, they generally try to keep their distance; avoid their company, if possible

not the jeong’s 

it wasn’t unusual to see duchess jeong knitting in her tea room with maids, merchant’s wives, or whoever else wanted to come

to see gunho running around with his friends, a pack of street urchins, low, and middle class children

to see yunho in the market helping one of the many older couples haul their cart into place

his family had managed to find the delicate balance of being “normal” enough not to suffer social ostracization, yet “odd” enough for people to dismiss their “peculiar actions” as “typical jeong behaviour”

now, onto the loml yunho

perfect gentleman pt. 2

extremely charming and a great conversationalist

no matter how awkward or shy the other party may be, yunho has this way to draw them out of their shell

(just ask mingi)

excels physical and hands-on activities (i.e. hunting, horseback riding, swordsmanship, etc,,,)

average in terms of book smarts

so while wasn’t about to lead the next technological revolution, he wasn’t “stupid” either

rather, i’d argue that yunho’s brilliant in non-traditional ways

his quick wit and ability to think on his feet is part of his charm

but his greatest strengths are his observational skills and emotional intelligence

able to discern people’s emotional state easily and quickly

he’s someone who’s kind, bright, and genuinely cares about other people’s problems (sometimes a little too much)

a natural leader - people tend to flock towards him

between him and mingi (who despite not acting like it, is extremely book smart), they’ve got all bases covered

(+ yunho’s willingness in using unconventional methods to gather information)

that’s actually how he met you

or rather, “found” seems more appropriate

see, he has an excellent rapport with the street children

being six foot one and offering shoulder rides does wonders

and because he wants to stay updated on what problems the people around him are dealing with, he gets the children to “report” to him if they find or hear anything unusual

(the children are more than eager to play spy, especially when there’s candy involved)

one day while taking a stroll, one of his kids ran up to him totally out of breath

he wheezed something about a “mysterious lady” before grabbing yunho’s hand and dragging leading him to an alley quite far away

to say he was surprised was an understatement

most of the time, his kids brought amusing but mostly useless information to him

(even if he is more than content listening about the cute squirrel they fed earlier that day)

usually they didn’t lead him to an unconscious woman lying in the middle of an empty alley

(yes, that’s you)

hurrying to your side, he drops down and checks to see if you’re alive

other than being unconscious and getting some dirt in your hair and on your clothes, you seemed to be okay

gingerly scooping you into his arms, he tells the little boy to fetch the doctor and bring him to the jeong manor

fast forward a couple hours and you’re roused from your unconscious state by the sharp smell of ammonia mixed with lavender

blearily, you rub your eyes and blink once, twice, before your vision finally clears

then panic

you don’t recognize where you are or the two faces that hover by your bedside

sensing your anxiety, yunho smiles warmly speaks in a soothing tone

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re in a safe place. my name’s yunho and this is dr. adley. i found you unconscious in an alley.”

and though you’re very confused and still mildly unnerved, you can tell this yunho guy is genuine

“,,,okay.”

so you settle into the (extremely comfortable) four poster bed and let the doctor examine you

except now it’s time for panic pt.2, but ten times worse because why the hell can’t you remember anything?!

you can’t even remember your own g*d damned name !!

to make things worse, there doesn’t seem to be a reason why you can’t remember anything

no bumps or injuries anywhere on your body

and chances of a robbery gone wrong, a kidnapping, or a failed assassination attempt were very unlikely since you were dressed in commoner’s clothes

disquieted by your alarm and the doctor’s confusion, yunho slips out of the room and returns after several minutes

the doctor, offering apologies to both you and yunho, says he has no idea what’s wrong or what could’ve happened to you

all he can suggest is to rest and hope that your memories eventually come back to you

your burry your face into your hands, a whirlwind of frustration, confusion, and fear brewing in you

apparently nobody, including yourself: 

knows who you are, 

where you came from, 

why you were unconscious, 

and why you lost your memories

to top it off, you have no money

.

…

just when you were about to idk,,,scream and/or punch something-

you feel two large hands engulfing yours, lowering them from your face

taking a seat on the edge of bed, yunho offers a faint smile as he idly traces lines from your wrists to your fingertips

a surprisingly soothing gesture

“,,,i know you’re overwhelmed right now, but please don’t feel as if you have to do this on your own. i talked to my mum and dad; you can stay here until either someone finds you or your memories return. in the meantime, we’ll help you out as much as we can, yeah?”

and though you’re in no position to argue, your first instinct is to decline because though you’re amnesiatic, you still have common sense

what kind of family, wealthy or not (actually, especially wealthy), lets a complete stranger stay in their house?

do these people have no sense of danger?

but yunho is as stubborn as he is kind, and this was how you ended up staying with the jeong’s

(you insist on working to earn your stay, much to yunho’s dismay. in his head, unless it helped in recovering their memories or, unfortunately, was necessary for survival, who would make an amnesiac work?)

the first couple of days were awkward

duke and duchess jeong had briefed everyone in the manor about your situation, but when making casual conversation, lapses in memory and uncomfortable silences were inevitable

“oh, i adore this purple! hey, what’s your favourite colour?”

“,,,i uh,,, don’t know.”

“,,,i’m so sorry-”

but awkward has never a problem for yunho, and you quickly grew fond of the gentle giant

“since we don’t know your name, can i call you little sun? since i found you on a sunny day and you’re little-”

“yunho, not everyone can be six feet tall”

“six one, actually”

“,,,”

true to his word, he does his best to help you recover your memories

roped mingi into helping

when you finished your tasks for the day, he’d bring you to all sorts of places, trying all sorts of things

on a hunting trip with yungi, you discovered that: a) you’re proficient in horseback riding, b) you have astounding aim, and c) you’re surprisingly agile

yunho, who’s always been penchant towards athleticism, was delighted to have someone to compete with

mingi just grumbled. sure he was clumsy, but how did someone with no memory beat him?

while helping the gardener, you found out that you have a rather extensive knowledge of flora

yunho jokingly (kinda) suggested that maybe you were a huntress

mingi bombarded you with questions and quizzes about plants

find out what kind of plant you are by decorating your dream room

hoping that you’d run into someone or somewhere familiar, yunho would take on walks all over the city

during your walks, you learned that you preferred nighttime (while he preferred the day), that you found solace in being alone (while he preferred company), that you liked sweet things (while he preferred chips)

a month,

two,

six months passed liked this

you made progress, but you couldn’t stop the bitterness from bubbling in your chest; negativity spreading through your veins like toxin

sure, you consider your favourite colour to be a precious memory in its own right

but who cares about what your favourite colour is when you can’t remember your own name?

you were vexed by the fact that, at this point, you know more about yunho than yourself

even if learning about him made your heart flutter

just a little

and the nightmares

the nightmares

they drove you crazy

you never remembered what you’d dream of, but every night, without fail, you’d wake with tear stained cheeks and sweat soaked clothes

tonight was particularly bad

normally, when you woke, you’d force yourself to take several deep, calming breaths until your breathing evened, grab a glass of water, then crawl back to bed

today, you couldn’t breathe

no matter what or how hard you tried, your heart wouldn’t stop pummeling against your ribcage;

your blood wouldn’t stop rushing between your ears, creating a cacophony no one else could hear;

wave after wave of nausea would slam into your gut

your vision’s blurring

oh god

you’re gonna pass out

you’re gonna pass out and forget the memories you worked so hard to remember and all the memories you made and you’re gonna forget yunho and mingi and-

suddenly, much like the first day, two large hands engulf your own, idly tracing lines from your wrist to your fingertips

“little sun, it’s me, yunho. your yunho. focus on my hands and voice, yeah? i’m right here.”

he continues to murmur sweet nothings until finally, finally, your heart settles back in your chest, your breathing levels, and your vision clears enough to see yunho

your yunho

and in this state, one look at his kind eyes is enough for the tears you’ve been holding in all this time to spill over

because though you cry in your sleep, you never let yourself cry when you’re awake

too focused on chores, too focused on remembering, too focused on trying to get some semblance of control over this uncontrollable situation

without a word, he pulls you into his chest and runs his fingers through your sweaty hair, offering the sound of his heartbeat to anchor you back to this four poster bed when you were ready

but g*d, does it break his heart to see you cry

he expected to hear you wail, to take the brunt of your fists as you pound his chest

but he hears nothing

instead, he feels your tears soak his shirt, feels how you tremble in his arms

and that is so much worse.

it takes long minute for you to stop crying, and another for you to feel composed enough to detach yourself from yunho’s (now soggy) chest

you’re sure you look awful

puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks, and a runny nose

(and you feel embarrassed that yunho witnessed your breakdown)

but he thumbs away the remaining tears from your cheeks and murmurs that he’ll be right back, returning with tissues and a glass of water 

and a new shirt

he hands you the glass of water, tosses your used tissues in the garbage, and climbs underneath your (technically his) covers, patting the space beside him

when you too find refuge in the warm blankets, he pulls you back into his chest

his arm acts as your pillow as he kisses the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair

“wanna talk about it?”

it takes you several moments, but you eventually tell him about the negativity seeping into every inch of skin

the nightmares you never recall keeping you up at night

the irrational feeling of stupidity because you can’t remember who you are

yunho silently, attentively listens to you as you spill your heart

and if he hadn’t pulled you so close, you might’ve seen the weariness in his usually carefree features

the conflict and hollowness brewing in his normally inviting eyes

but by the time you finished talking and pulled back, the expression was gone and the familiar smile you adored so much was back in place

“tomorrow, let’s go to the place where i found you.”

a faint smile bloomed on your lips because though this wasn’t the first time you visited, it was a reminder that you weren’t alone

that no matter how the chances dwindled, yunho would remind you that it was never zero

it was hope that got you through the night

the two of you have never done anything that could be considered anything but platonic

much to mingi’s irritation

but just for tonight, yunho decides to be a little greedy

he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, you wrists, your palms, your knuckles, your fingers

anywhere he can reach,

except for your lips

you’re emotionally exhausted and vulnerable; he’d feel like a dick if he forced a decision - especially an emotionally fraught one - onto you right now

he threads your fingers together, murmuring soft promises: you’ll remember who you were, you’ll be okay, you’ll find your way again

and you finally let the exhaustion, the steady rhythm of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the warmth and comfort that is yunho lull you to sleep

the next morning is a cold one

gusts of wind bite into your skin as you curl in on yourself, trying to preserve any remaining shred of body heat

noticing this, yunho tucks you under his arm with a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks that were definitely red because of the cold and not because he was flustered

cute

a peaceful silence falls between you two as he leads you to the alley

and since it was early, the only sounds that accompanied you was the quiet patter of your footsteps and the chirps of birds reluctant to travel south

feeling like it simultaneously took too long and not long enough, the two of you arrive

an odd smile settles on yunho’s lips

,,,was that bitterness?

“,,,here we are.”

interrupting your train of thought, he takes your hand and leads you to where he found you

g*d

you could feel it

somewhere in the back of your mind, something almost tangible was shoving its way forward

you’re so close, just a little more and-

suddenly, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather ran down your spine

before you could understand what you were feeling, yunho shoved you behind him and parried the dagger aimed for his chest

a gruff looking man only a little shorter than he stood before him

his clothes tattered and dirty, skin littered with scars, hair and beard scraggly and matted, he looked like one of the many men that inhabited the slums

but those men were sagging skin and bones, never knowing where or if they would get a next meal

this man was muscular

and judging by the familiarity of his actions, this clearly wasn’t his first assassination 

the two men, unable to disengage, snarl as they continue to press into each other

much to your surprise, when you were about to jump into the fray, the assassin screams at you

“YOU ‘UCKING WHORE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! KILL HIM!”

big mistake

because not only is yunho clever and athletic, he’s one lucky bastard

in the brief second the assassin’s attention was diverted, yunho ducks

his weight and moment carries him forward, and he stumbles,,,right onto yunho’s blade.

yanking both his blood soaked short sword and body away from the assassin, the man crumples to the ground

but until life is drained from his eyes, he bores holes into your head, message clear: kill him

a deafening silence weighs down upon you when the man stops breathing

even the wind stills

yunho stands there, a far away look in his eyes as he grips the short sword

blood is splattered all over his hands, across his cheek

it trickles from the hilt, down the blade, and eventually drips onto the ground beneath him

snow begins to drift from the gray skies, landing on his hair, his cheeks, his eyelashes, his coat

as if trying to comfort him

as if trying to wash the blood away

and you?

you couldn’t move.

not when the floodgates had opened and a torrent of memories threatened to pull you under

you knew who you were

you were yn, born to a peasant mother who died at birth and a father that abandoned you soon after

a ghost of a person, and unknown assassin raised by an unnamed noble who resented the jeong’s for their wealth, their nobility, and their favour with the royal family despite their peculiar attitude

nothing but a tool 

a tool told that if successful, he’d grant you wealth and freedom

but that if you failed, he’d kill you himself

…

the assassin wasn’t after yunho, he was after you

a warning to finish the job, or else

…

you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking

and yunho, 

your gentle giant, yunho

envelops your hands in his, idly tracing lines from your wrist to your fingertips

there’s no comfort this time.

not when he drew lines of blood across the back of your hand, not when you searched and couldn’t read anything expect for this sad smile on his ordinarily open features

“,,,do you remember?”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,you knew.”

he did.

his suspicions appeared early on, spurred by your unusually good marksmanship, agility, and uncanny knowledge of plants

specifically poisonous ones

he turned to this “unconventional” ways of gathering information

starting off with his kids,

then some trusted tclose contacts

but when nothing - and he meant a questionable amount of nothing - turned up, he left the legal sphere and delved in the underground; the black markets

yunho has people who owe him favours - people who’s debts he’s paid off, who’s fights he’s fought on their behalf 

it took a few months, but eventually he got the information he wanted

marquess yoo who openly showed his distaste for the jeong family “released his pet into the wild”

but the jeong’s were not stupid, and they were loved

when yunho’s father confided to some close acquaintances about the predicament they were facing, they took matters into their own hands

they never meant to hurt you

only to capture you and talk you out of killing, bribing you with money, protection - threats, if necessary - if you testified against marquess yoo

but somewhere along the way, things got messy 

it ended with an unconscious girl lying in the middle of an abandoned alley; three grown men running away because oh dear lord, she’s dead; and a child leading yunho straight to you

letting go of your hands, yunho goes to kneel beside the man he just killed

closing his eyes, he mutters a prayer for the (not so) poor soul who unknowingly got himself tangled in this mess, and grabs the dagger 

it feels like someone doused you in ice as yunho walks back to you

horror morphs on your face as he gently - why was he always so gentle? - wraps your fingers around the hilt and places the blade against his neck

the smile that you love so much but currently hate rests on his lips as he cups the side of your face with his free hand

his thumb idly brushes against your cheek, eyes twinkling with adoration as he drinks in every last detail of your face as if,,,

as if,,,

he’s ready to die

“no one knows we left this morning and no one knows we’re here; not even mingi. if you kill me, you’ll have enough time to collect some of your reward and run away.”

by now your hands were shaking so much that if yunho didn’t have his hand wrapped around yours, you would’ve dropped the blade

but as the snow floats down and lands in your hair, in his eye lashes, in the fog of your shared breaths, in the space between you,

here to witness a great tragedy

you both knew,

that one of you has to die.

[arcticfox007]

Suptober Day 1: Harvest

This is my first time doing Suptober and I probably won’t do every day (and am already a day late) but I thought it would be a good creativity boost and looking through all the other work it seemed like a lot of fun! Thanks to @winchester-reload for organizing this :)

Check it out on AO3!

Castiel hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation. He was supposed to be on break, but had volunteered to reset room 5 for the next patient because he knew his friend Alex had been in dire need of a break. Cas was only a volunteer, spending his junior year of college shadowing various medical professionals to get a better idea of what a career in medicine would really be like. When Alex had suggested shadowing one of the doctors she worked with, he’d readily agreed, knowing that his friend spoke highly of both Dr. Barnes and Dr. Fitzgerald.

He’d already spent the past few hours shadowing Dr. Fitzgerald (or Garth as he insisted on being called) and had seen enough to realize that Family Medicine was understaffed and struggling to do the best they could for their patients given the absurd constraints on their time. Garth was currently seeing a patient who didn’t want a stranger in the room, so the doctor had told Cas to grab some lunch. Cas had intended to do just that when he saw Alex making frantic phone calls at the front desk. When she’d hung up, she’d looked at the end of her rope, explaining to Can that one of the other nurses called out and she couldn’t find anyone to cover for them.

Which is how Cas ended up in room 5 wiping down the surfaces and pulling a new paper cover over the bed. Cas knew all about patient privacy, but really, the conversation easily carried into the room when the man who must be one of Dr. Barnes patients had decided to continue talking to her out in the hallway. The man had a compelling voice and by the time Cas realized he was eavesdropping it was too late to avoid it as leaving room 5 now would have only made the unsuspecting patient realize he’d been overheard.

“Um, and, I’m really sorry about this doc, but I probably can’t afford the bill for today’s services right away.”

“Dean, just call Meg like I told you. Our pharmacy here is amazing at finding co-pay cards for these types of medications.”

“I will talk to her, I swear. It’s just when we had to switch insurance plans the new one says the co-pay for that grade of medicine is $100 a dose. I’m honestly not sure I can make that work Dr. Barnes.”

“I understand, but you need this medicine Dean. Your RA will flare right back up without it. If that happens you eventually won’t be able to work at all. Even skipping doses is ill-advised, letting the inflammation persist could eventually cause permanent damage to your joints.”

“I get it doc, I do, but $400 a month? It’s basically choosing between eating and my ability to move without pain.”

“Dean, just talk to Meg. We will figure something out. At least promise me you’ll take the Humira every other week. I know it didn’t manage your symptoms well at the lower dose before, but it was still better than letting the RA go untreated.”

Dean must have responded to Dr. Barnes in some way Castiel couldn’t hear, because after a few moments the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading as they moved towards the front desk. Cas hurried out of room 5, the trash bag hanging unnoticed from his wrist. His heartbeat sped up as he worried that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of “Dean” before he left the office. Cas didn’t really know what he was planning on doing, just that he couldn’t stand the thought of this man resigning himself to pain all because the healthcare industry was such an awful mess that it would burden someone with choosing food over medicine. Something about the way Dean had sounded reminded him so much of his sister, Anna, right before she had left Castiel forever. That feeling drew Cas forward to meet a man he didn’t know. Cas couldn’t solve Dean’s money problems, Cas couldn’t force the government to change how healthcare was run in the country, Cas couldn’t even make Dean’s medical issues any better – but he could meet this man and maybe make him smile for a moment. Maybe, if he was brave enough, he could offer him some sort of friendship so maybe he would have one more person to help him through his struggles. Cas had been too young to understand how alone Anna must have felt but he knew more about it now. Helping people like Anna was what had drawn Cas to medicine in the first place.

Turning the corner Cas was startled to see what could only be a 6-foot flannel-wearing freckled god. The man was Hollywood beautiful and for a moment Cas forgot what had brought him rushing around the corner in the first place. The sound of Alex pointedly snapping her fingers brought Castiel back to reality as he broke of his inappropriate staring. He felt his skin heat up rapidly as he blushed.

“Did you finish room 5, Castiel?” Alex stared at him expectantly. Silently, Cas handed over the trash bag and muttered something about taking his lunch break outside. Too embarrassed by his very obvious admiration of the man that must have been Dean, Cas didn’t think he could talk to him in front of Alex. He rushed out the front door in the hopes that the autumn air would help him pull himself together. He didn’t know why he’d felt so compelled to talk to a man who’s private and very personal conversation he’d overheard. He was almost glad that his humiliating gawking had saved him from speaking to the guy. After all, what would he have said anyway? The air alone wasn’t helping Castiel’s composure, so he began pacing in front of the building.

“I mean how do you go up to a stranger and tell them they aren’t alone and that good things do happen? It’s not like it wouldn’t embarrass the guy to know I overheard him talking about his money problems…” Cas froze as he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Uh, hey man. I actually came out to ask you something else, but I think this just got awkward.” Cas took a deep breath already knowing it was Dean standing behind him. Cas’ habit of muttering to himself when anxious had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion, but never quite as badly as this felt. Sadly, his fervent wish to turn invisible on the spot was being ignored by the universe and he found himself staring into striking green eyes while wondering how he could possibly salvage this situation.

“H-hello Dean. I’m Castiel, and I can’t apologize enough for overhearing your conversation with Dr. Barnes. I swear it wasn’t intentional, I was cleaning out the room you were standing near and – “

“Whoa, hold up buddy. I’m not mad or anything. I mean, it wouldn’t be my topic of choice to start chatting up the hot new guy at my doctor’s office, but you clearly work in healthcare, I’m sure you’ve heard the same thing from lots of folks.” Cas’ brain froze a bit when Dean referred to him as hot, but then it caught up with what he was actually saying.

“Er, actually I’m just shadowing Dr. Garth for the day, but yes, I have heard stories like yours. My sister, Anna, went through something similar. That’s why I wanted to say something to you but wasn’t sure what. Then I actually saw you and, well, you saw. I’m not really good with subtlety. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” Dean threw his head back with a barking laugh and Cas found himself staring at the beautiful man yet again.

“Having someone like you checking me out definitely doesn’t make me uncomfortable. If it makes you feel better, I came out hoping to ask if you’d be interested in going to the Harvest Festival tonight. I have to work for a bit at my store’s booth but if you were free around 7, I’d love to talk with you more. Even if it’s just whatever you wanted to talk to me about before.” Dean smiled flirtatiously at Cas, and there was no way to resist that.

“Yes, I’d love to! Where should I meet you?”

They exchanged information quickly, and parted ways with matching smiles. Cas would get his chance to tell Dean how his sister gave up her fight with cancer because she knew her treatments were bankrupting the family. He’d tell him how he’d was hoping to be a doctor himself one day to maybe help someone else like Anna win their fight despite the shitty healthcare system. He’d also tell Dean that he’d chased him down the hall because he’d desperately wanted to tell him that maybe they were strangers, but that he hoped Dean didn’t give up and that he’d be willing to be there for him if having a friend would help.

Now though, Cas thought maybe he’d already made Dean’s day a bit brighter, and he looked forward to getting to know the handsome man better. Maybe his impulse to offer his friendship to a stranger wasn’t as insane as it first seemed, and if Castiel was reading things right perhaps friendship wasn’t the only thing they had to offer one another.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Nice to meet you, where you been?

Chapter 2 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Reader becomes acquainted with some members of the BAU.

Warnings: none that I can think of!

Word Count: ~1900

Penny came back out to the foyer, handing you the oversized t-shirt and shorts you left here last time you slept over. You pulled them on quickly, following Penny to the living room where you instantly realized, it was more than just you, Penny, and the tall man in the apartment. You stopped moving as you took in the additional new faces. You had never met Penny’s team before, but she had talked about them a ton. You blushed again thinking of how you must look a mess right now.

“Everyone, this is Y/N! She is my very best friend and she is very sad so we are going to cheer her up.” Penny started the introductions. “Y/N, this is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau aka JJ, and Emily Prentiss.” You took in the names as Penny went around the room. Eyes bouncing between a very muscular bald man and two of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and for a more formal introduction, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, although you two met at the door.” Your eyes attempted to meet his again, but he was staring at the ground. You couldn’t help the whisper that escaped your lips “Doctor.”

 Either the profilers didn’t hear it, or chose to ignore it, along with the blush forming on your cheeks yet again. You looked around the room again and couldn’t stop yourself from speaking your thoughts. “God, is it a requirement to be hot as hell to work for the FBI?” Everyone laughed as you threw your hand over your mouth, eyes widening. “Oh God. That’s embarrassing. It’s true though, what a good looking team.” That earned more laughter form the group.

  It was clear they were all wondering why you had just sobbed into their coworkers adorable sweater vest. You waited a beat hoping someone would say something. But since they were all staring at you, and you hate awkward silences, you couldn’t help but blurt out “today was my 3 year anniversary with my boyfriend,” Not noticing the slight frown appear on Spencer’s face, you continued “but I went over to his place and found him in bed with another woman. So now I am very drunk.” Their faces all softened, offering slight words of encouragement as you sunk into the sofa and picked up the bottle of white wine from the table. Not even bothering with a glass, you started drinking again. You drank nearly half the bottle before taking a breath.

 “Woah” you heard someone say, but honestly you didn’t know who. “Why don’t we play a game or something? Maybe switch to water so you don’t completely hate yourself tomorrow?” You realized it was JJ talking. “I am always down – hiccup – for a game. I must warn you, I am extremely competitive though. Plus, I don’t get hungover so I’ll be fine.” You looked at their disbelieving faces. “Fine” you muttered, annoyed at having to explain this again, “I’ll switch to water for a bit. But only because I want to win.”

 Penny went to get the cards, confirming your statement “Y/N is right ya know. She has never been hungover. I’ve seen her drink countless tequila shots, chase them each with a wine cooler and clean her entire apartment before 8 AM the next day.”

 “Impressive.” Derek smirked as he looked at you.

 “What can I say? It really boosts my productivity.” The room chuckled as the hot doctor chimed in.

 “Your liver is responsible for breaking down all the alcohol you consume into an enzyme called acetaldehyde, the toxin responsible for hangovers. Recent studies have shown about 23% of people are able to break down the acetaldehyde much faster resulting in little to no hangover symptoms. Whether or not you experience hangovers is based 45% on genetics.” You looked over to him, wildly impressed with the first words you’ve heard him say.

 “What’s the other 55% based on?” You asked, intrigued to finally know why you don’t actually experience hangovers. He looked surprised as he met your eyes for the first time since you entered the room.

 “It’s actually a mixture of volume of alcohol, water, and food consumption.” You chuckled as he said this.

 “Well, it must be genetics for me because there are a few times I remember making very bad choices…” You felt the thought slip away as Dr. Spencer Reid smiled at you.

 “How can she even do simple math right now? Based on the story she’s had 10 drinks in the last 3 hours?” Emily whispered to JJ and Derek. They exchanged glances as Penny finally sat back down with the cards.

 “What should we play?” She asked the room, but mostly you. You could already feel your competitive edge creeping in as you tore your eyes from Spencer’s to suggest one of your favorite group games. “Egyptian Rat Screw!” It should be especially fun since you were all drinking. Nobody seemed to know the game though, so you quickly explained the rules as you took the cards to shuffle and deal.

 “Remember, whoever gets all the cards wins. Slap sandwiches and doubles. Royals have the special rules we just talked about. If you slap and there’s nothing there, you have to put a card in the bottom of the pile.” You said as everyone got situated around the table unsure what to expect. “Ready?” you asked, a mischievous grin on your face.

 --

 After winning the first two games you couldn’t help but tease everyone “I am definitely the drunkest one here. I thought a group of FBI agents would have better reaction times!” You giggled as everyone laughed along with you. You dealt the cards into five piles, one for each agent. “No cards for you?” Derek asked. “Nope.” You popped the “p” as you took in their confused faces. “I’m going to start with no cards and see if I still win.” There was a clear competitive glint in your eyes, with a matching smirk.  They seemed disbelieving that you would pull out another win, but continued along with the game.

 You hadn’t even tried slapping the table until there was only Spencer and Derek left with cards. Emily, JJ, and Penelope were chatting aimlessly, having lost interest a few minutes ago. You sat up and stared at the ever growing pile of cards. The whole game was basically memorizing the order of cards, or at least the general timeline. You knew as soon as Derek played his jack, Spencer would follow with an identical card. As you spotted the first jack hit the pile, Derek taunted Spencer “Haha pretty boy, one chance to get a royal or I’m pulling in the big pile.” The two of them seemed to have forgotten that you could get back in the game. Spencer smiled as he flipped over what you knew to be a jack. It was clear from the smirk on his face he knew it was a jack as well. What he didn’t count on was your cat-like reflexes slapping the pile before he could finish laughing at Derek’s sad face.

 The two of them looked shocked as you picked up the cards, readying them for the next set of flipping. “Damn girl, I thought you forgot how to play.” Derek laughed at the smug grin you were wearing. He only had two cards left. Easily knocking Derek from the game, he joined the side conversation being had in the kitchen as he resigned to another round lost. You turned to Spencer, almost whispering “Looks like it’s just you and me, Doctor.” Spencer looked up from his cards stating, “you sound pretty confident considering your opponent has an eidetic memory and knows the exact order of both our hands.” You stuck your tongue out as you placed your first card. “Not fair.”

 Minutes passed as the game drew on, neither player really making an advance. You yawned as you flipped another card onto the table, losing focus for just a second. Reid recognized the pattern emerging, getting ready to slap after your next card. You forgot to look at the potential for a sandwich, playing your next card. You noticed it a second to late as you slapped your hand down. Spencer beat you too it though, and when your hand landed it was on top of his. You didn’t move at first, shocked to have lost so many cards at once. Spencer was gloating as you picked up his hand and put it on top of yours.

 He finally looked down to see you pulling the cards toward you before jumping up to get them back. You held the cards close to your heart, faking the offense you felt at his suggestion that you would cheat, despite your very obvious cheating. When he reached for the cards, you backed up into the couch, holding them above your head. He knelt over you, leaning forward to reach your outstretched hand, forgetting for just a second that he really didn’t know you at all and being this close should make him uncomfortable.

 You shrieked as he tickled your sides to pull the cards in. He was gloating yet again as he pulled them from your grasp, not realizing how close the two of you had become. The two of you froze yet again as you felt that same magnetic force as earlier pulling you closer as you looked into his eyes. He cleared his through as he sat up, returning to his seat to finish the game. 

The two of you continued the game until you only had a few cards left. “It appears as though your winning streak is quickly coming to an end.” Spencer joked with you, playing a queen. He was clearly trying to ease whatever tension was lingering from your couch experience. You glanced at the cards in the middle of the table. It must have been 45 cards in the pile. You switched tactics to playing the cards as quick as possible to prevent another mistake.

A queen meant playing two cards in a row. You knew you had two sevens in a row in your hand, so you were ready to take him down. You glanced up stating “Rule 1: The Doctor lies.” You stated matter-of-factly as you flipped over your first seven. “Oh, and don’t blink.” You said, playing the second and slapping it before he finished comprehending your two Doctor Who references. You just had an instinctual feeling that Doctor Who would distract him.

 You finished the game with relative ease as the others made their way back into the room. You celebrated as you took the rest of his cards, completing the game and adding another tally to the mental scoreboard you had in your head. As everyone sat back down, you put the cards away. It was now 12:30 in the morning and suddenly you were exhausted. You rose from your seat, putting your coat back on your shoulders. “I should go home” you said, earning stares from everyone.

 “You are completely welcome to stay the night here!” Penelope said as you continued preparing to leave.

 “Thank you, Penelope, but I already feel so much better.” You chanced a glance at Spencer to see him staring right back. “I want to go home and lay in my bed and throw all his stuff out the window. Plus I could really use some fresh air right now.” Everyone started to verbally object now. Sometimes you forgot what Penelope does for a living and how much she’s seen. “No really, I’ll be fine.” You continued, “I live in The City Block, it’s only half a mile from here!” This did nothing to satisfy the worried looks on the five faces staring back at you.

 “That’s on the way to my building.” Spencer stated. “I’ll walk with you, okay?” You looked up, surprised. Slowly a small smile appeared on your face. “Okay.” Somehow that was all you could manage. Everyone said their goodbyes as you and Spencer made your way out of the apartment and started walking down the street.

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