#season like if this isn’t final season he can go back to Kansas and be like oh I’m unhappy

[asexualjedi]

Crossing my fingers like pls don’t end the show with Ted going back to Kansas of tedbecca or at the very least not both well actually. Which is funny like. If they want to do tedbecca it would only work for me if she was not his boss which would work if like Ted went back to Kansas but like I don’t want Rebecca’s story to have her just fuck off to Kansas I don’t think that would be good for her.

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[ghostvibesonly]

So Ted Lasso is my current hyperfixation and I need to talk about this or I will explode (sorry it’s the tism/Trent Crimm kinnie in me).

This entire final season we’re being led to believe Ted will be returning back to America at the end of the series.

But why would he do that? Ted has found a family in Richmond. He’s found a place where he finally belongs and where he can make a difference. Going back to Kansas would only be worse for his mental health.

This entire season he’s mentioned multiple times how he feels like he doesn’t belong. That he doesn’t know why he’s still in England. But I believe with Total Football will come a realization as to why he’s there. And I think Trent’s ramblings at the end of the most recent episode (and possibly Trent himself) will help Ted greatly.

This show is all about subverting expectations. Why do we think Ted will go back home? Because that’s the expected ending. What else is there in Kansas waiting for him besides loneliness and isolation?

Henry, his son.

Ted loves his son with all his being. He also misses him incredibly. We expect that he’ll return to America to be with Henry.

However, the first shot of every season is a direct parallel to its final shot. For example, season 2 starts with a closeup shot of Nate that pans back to show him with the rest of the coaches happily cheering for Richmond. The end of season closes with Nate now manager at WestHam, walking towards the camera with a smug look.

The creators of the show know what they��re doing. Everything placed, every choice made, every character behavior or interaction is purposeful. There is intent behind everything.

At the beginning of season 3, Henry left Ted and England behind to go back to America. Who’s to say the show doesn’t end with him coming back to live with Ted? (Especially with the hints that he isn’t doing too well in America either, what with the bullying incident)

Maybe I’m putting my tinfoil hat on and hoping Ted doesn’t leave Richmond (god knows I already have my clown makeup on for Tedependent). Maybe it’s the hope that ends up killing me. But Ted Lasso is a show that will do things no one expects. The hope might kill me, but god it’s fun to clown until the end

[thetarttfuldickhead]

All right, I fully get that the smart money says Ted leaves Richmond in the next episode, but I just watched 3x01 again (in some mad hope that I’ll get through the entire season before the finale. Outlook: bad, but here’s to believing) and to me, the structurally sound narrative response to a character wondering (in the first 5 minutes of the first episode of the season) what he’s still doing there is not to have him spend the entire season figuring out that, actually no, he shouldn’t be here. That’s just… terribly anticlimactic, really. Posing the question that baldly, this early, to me suggests a story of him figuring out why he is there; why he has chosen that, and might continue to choose so.

Now, if we had gotten something along the lines of “I’m here to make these people the best they could be, they need me and that’s why I’m sticking around” it would make sense for Ted to eventually realize that, actually, job done; they’re as good as I can make them, now they can take it further on their own and I can go (as suggested in this meta, and to me far more satisfying than him leaving “just” because he wants to be with Henry). But we don’t get that: instead Ted notes that he knows why he came (to give Michelle a whole lot of space; it had little to do with Richmond or anyone there), but not what he’s still doing there (him and Michelle are over, so there’s no reason for him to stay away anymore). He assures Henry that he’d only stay for something really important, but he obviously has no idea what that is. He’s presented with several suggestions of what he might still be doing in England – Dr. Sharon’s “you don’t quit things, Ted” and Henry’s “win the whole thing” – but subtly rejects them both. He himself notes that “maybe me being here is doing more hurting than helping at this point, you know” so he’s clearly not sold on the notion of people needing him and him needing to stay for them.

Right from the get go, Ted’s central conflict of the season is set up as him feeling guilty over being apart from Henry and wondering what could possibly justify that. To me, the answer to that should be the justification, not an “eh, actually, nothing can, this was a bad move, let’s go home”. It’d… feel like a betrayal of everything that happened at Richmond (ie the whole series), sort of?

Now, there’s still room for a realization that yes, what he did stay for was the people around him, to help them be better: Ted seeing the labours of his work and knowing that he made the right call for the time being, but now it’s as good as he can get it, and it’s time to be with Henry. This isn’t horrible. I don’t love it, but it isn’t horrible. However, there’s little in the last episode leading up to the as-of-yet undisclosed truth bomb to Rebecca that suggests that this is the realization he’s had. His mother confesses that she’s there because Henry misses him: we already knew that! Ted knew that! The whole season has been about Ted’s guilt over that! This is not news, and should not lead to a sudden conviction that, no, actually, I have to be with my son.

(I mean, it could temporary: I’m not averse to the idea of Ted deciding to leave only to then realize that staying is the right choice after all. But as a final pay-off it’s weak.)

Rather, given the stuff with his mum (and Jamie’s dad) and Mae’s poem, the last episode read to me as Ted coming to terms with the fact that he won’t be a perfect dad. He will screw up. He will leave his son both with things to thank him for and with things that makes Henry want to say “fuck you”, and while he should be careful not to make the same mistakes as his mum, or ever be even a tenth as bad as James Tartt, it’s okay not to be perfect. Maybe it’s okay for his son to miss him; they still have a lot of contact, Henry knows that Ted loves him, and with him and Michelle divorce, it’s likely Henry would miss him some of the time even if Ted lived back in Kansas.

I’ll offer my own counter-argument: maybe Ted accepts that he will not be perfect, but is determined to be as good as he can, and to be that he needs to be with Henry. Fine, but we’re back to the part where this is just a bit anticlimactic, given that the seasons starts with Ted wondering why he’s in London. That’s the question I want answered in the next episode! Why Richmond matters to him, and why he matters to Richmond! 

Ah, it’s obviously folly to speculate: we’ll know for sure in a few days, and it’s very possible that the finale will present things in such a way that it throws new light on everything I’ve said here. (Actually, it’s very possible that the episodes between 3x01 and 3x12 might do that too, but I haven’t gotten that far in my rewatch yet.) That’s okay: I have faith that it’ll work out however it was supposed to. That said, I’d love to have expectations subverted, and for Ted to stay. (Even as I’ve gotten more used to the idea of Richmond without him.)

[eyesonstars-feetonground]

Ted Lasso 3x12: Why the Finale Felt a Bit Hollow

I genuinely think the only way to end Ted’s arc was to have him return to Henry. There’s no world in which he would ask his son to move across the world to him, much less not return to him. And so much of Ted’s pain is centered around being far from Henry. In a way, being a parent does really overshadow every other part of your life...some are saying Ted has gotten reduced down to just his fatherhood, but the point is that for him, and for a lot of parents, your child is your number one priority even if there’s a thousand more things on the other side of the scale. Henry needs him, and Richmond doesn’t, so there’s no way to justify the distance that Ted himself admits he keeps partly because he’s afraid of when Henry will leave him. It is beautiful that he can be confident now and take up the space he deserves in Kansas, in his son’s life. I hope Michelle gets it together, and hopefully that scene with Dr. Jacob being an asshole is what that’s about. 

I will read a hundred fics about Ted staying with Richmond to soothe the pain, and I’ve been rotating it in my mind all day. I also don’t particularly ship anyone but Roy and Jamie, so Ted’s ending isn’t about that for me. 

However, what really bugged me is that it seems like the show is treating Ted moving away to Kansas as if he will literally never talk to or see these people again, as if he didn’t involve himself with Henry’s life as much as possible from an ocean away. Why would the inverse not hold true with his other family, with his platonic soulmate and best friend(s) and pseudo child?? I am definitely buying into the dream sequence theory at the end bc otherwise that is what really pushes this into sad territory for me...why would he not be a part of those memories, those futures to come, as a friend and family member?

It seemed like the show couldn’t decide, like Ted was checked out of all of these emotional goodbyes where other people tried to tell him over and over again that they loved him and wanted him, without showing deep sadness or telling them to visit or giving a rambling Ted story. I’m hoping that’s because it’s a huge life change, but not one that moves him to sadness, because he’ll continue being there for them, and they’ll continue being there for him. 

I would have loved some reassurance though...Ted promising to call every day at Biscuits with the Boss time...Rebecca giving him a permanent airfare ticket so he can be flying in and out all the time, bringing Henry with him! Ted going to Richmond games whenever he can, Ted remembering birthdays and going to the book release and taking up space when the Higgins get everyone together. Ted showing back up with Henry, Sleepless in Seattle style, being greeted by Rebecca and the rest of the team to spend weeks and months back in his other home. Ted getting FaceTimed for advice about relationships and promotions and girl talk and the Diamond Dogs group chat and how to make a Richmond charity or women’s team or kid’s outreach program (best way to make Rebecca a mom in my opinion). Ted being a consultant bc Rebecca refuses to take him off the payroll until they win the whole thing, Ted being loved by the fans and journos even from afar, even years later. Ted being happy to be in London as a tourist with his son, with all that wonder and joy and optimism now that he can resolve the ache of both of his lives being one life! And vice versa, Rebecca and Beard constantly visiting, dragging Keeley or Roy or Nate with them, the players spending off season learning about Kansas and playing with Henry, celebrating holidays together !! The fans who now own 49% of the club being ok with some of its budget being “wasted” just making sure Ted and the team continue to be with each other in some way. Ted visiting and being greeted by all the people he talks to during his morning routine as if he never left. 

I just hope that he’s not cutting himself out of his community. It is about you, Ted. It is. 

Hope he creates a beautiful, whole life in Kansas (ideally in my mind he coaches a women’s soccer team there and then eventually moves back to Richmond to coach their women’s soccer team like years in the future, once Henry is an adult), but also continues therapy enough to know that he isn’t Mary Poppins!! He’s a Dorothy that loved Oz, he’s a Maria that deserves the Von Trapps. He’s the main character, he’s not a magical mentor type. He has immensely wealthy people who love him, he can make it work both ways. Some of the money that could have been his salary can instead be his travel and phone bill money. 

It’s a dream sequence not only because it had some truly unrealistic stuff in it (Jane and Beard getting married at Stonehenge, Rebecca meeting Dutch man despite the magic of their story being its ephemeral nature, Jamie with his dad, Trent taking out so much of Ted from the book cover/title after he said he wouldn’t change anything) but because, for me, the only part of the finale that was truly disappointing was the regression of Ted thinking he exists only to make those moments possible for others, with no place for himself within them. 

In a finale that didn’t really feel like an ending (in a good way!), where so many storylines didn’t get resolved because the point is that the characters will keep growing and changing and evolving beyond what we see of them, because now they have the tools to do that, I can’t Believe that the one hard ending we got was Ted’s life with Richmond. So I won’t.

[damelucyjo]

I’m kind of at a point now where I’m mellowed out about the finale now. As I’ve said there’s things I liked, things I didn’t. There were a good few things that still baffle me though.

So here are 2 thoughts that won’t leave my head;

1 - They just needed to add little hints from Henry throughout the season that he really missed his dad and wanted him back in Kansas. Add in a couple of little scenes where there’s a little bit of a FaceTime where he says ‘I miss you, dad’, or even make a point of it in part of the episode where he stayed with Ted whilst Michelle went off to Paris. As far as I can remember he never once told his dad that he missed seeing him all the time. Little things like that would have really helped make Dottie telling Ted that his son missed him not seem like a manipulative tactic on her part too, and would have made him deciding he had to leave not feel like it suddenly came out of the blue.

2 - Why did Ted feel like he couldn’t speak to Rebecca once she told him she was ready to talk about it. He never had trouble talking with anyone before. If he was so sure of his decision, why couldn’t he reassure her that it was all going to be okay. We were never shown them having a conversation about it. But to me, not having Ted say anything in the scene in the stands, other than agree that he’d made his decision, felt like he hadn’t truly made a decision he was really set on or happy with. He didn’t want to go, but he just didn’t want to talk to her about it. The same in the airport. She kept trying to get him to stay because, again, to me, I felt like she knew he didn’t want to leave. I do believe it’s all more to do with what happened with his dad and Ted being all about never wanting people to feel like they’re alone. But he doesn’t know how to help multiple people at once. He had to go back so that Henry never got to a point where he felt like he didn’t have a dad (which I believe he never did or would have, but this was the case in Ted’s brain), but in going back to Kansas he was leaving Rebecca. He had to do that though because Henry’s more important to him. And I could go off on another tangent about how it was apparently more important for them to show this platonic loving friendship between these two, yet I saw more love between Rebecca & Keeley than I did Ted & Rebecca. They spent so much time seemingly not talking! God, I really could go on and on apparently, but I’m gonna shut up about them now 😂

I have many other thoughts that won’t leave me alone either. One the same as everyone else - how Ted & Rebecca are supposed to be very close friends and nothing more, yet why all the fake outs and specific acting choices from both Hannah & Jason. Or the many thoughts I have after reading Brendan’s AMA. But most of these are angry thoughts…

My overall impression, I guess you could say, is that many of the final choices that were made in regards to this show really reflected on the fact that is was basically run by a group of men. I don’t want to believe that many of the things that happened would have happened if they’d had any women who had more say. I may be completely alone in that opinion, and that’s perfectly fine.

But one ‘bad’ episode, even if it is the finale, isn’t going to taint my love of the show overall. I will still rewatch it, just maybe not the last episode as often. I’ll just believe the idea that the ending was all a dream and that they had plenty of conversations off camera. Ted was just popping home to sort things out before starting a new chapter of his life in Richmond.

[lunar-years]

Hmmm I agree that Roy and Keeley’s getting back together arc has been pushed back way too far for my taste (and I don’t love how drawn out both of their individual arcs were), but I think there’s still time for them to get back together in a fulfilling way. We have three episodes left- that’s plenty of time for them to have that long awaited heart-to-heart where Roy finally explains why he broke up with her, then time for them to rekindle their friendship, and eventually tentatively start things up again. There probably isn’t time left for them to work their way back to exactly where they were before, but I could totally see them agreeing to try again in the finale. And since it’s probably the last season, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a flash forward a few years later and they’re engaged or smth.

I’ll be honest, I haven’t cared much for Keeley’s arc this season either. I don’t care about the KJPR storyline – it’s boring since its all new characters, and Keeley doesn’t seem like she knows or cares about what she’s doing. It feels like they’re aiming for an arc where Keeley realizes that progress isn’t always about moving forward. It’s obvious that she does not fit into the corporate world, nor does she want to, and that she’d be much happier coming back to Richmond. And I bet that’s how Roy will tie into it: just bc you can move on, doesn’t mean it’ll make you happier. And I do really feel that the best ending for Roy’s arc about learning to let himself be happy is by actually letting himself be happy with Keeley again. Anyway I have faith that the writers love Roy and Keeley as much as the fans do, and that whatever way they decide to end will be the perfect ending.

Ohh I really love your take on Keeley's arc and what they're trying to show with it and I really hope you're right. Even if it's not solely coming back to Richmond, but coming back while continuing to take on a couple additional clients freelance, or branching off with Barb to start something smaller, just generally taking it slow instead of leaping in to being CEO of a whole PR firm like she's done this season. Building her confidence surrounded by people who love and support her and whom she actually has time to see because she's no longer making work her entire life.

Roy's arc I think has been building up to him allowing happiness into his life in more ways than just Keeley. I think it will be a number of things for him: finally having a reckoning with her over the breakup, but also gathering up with the Diamond Dogs as an actual member, admitting he cares about Jamie Tartt, taking on a larger role as coach (perhaps by doing more of the pressers, we saw how good he was at it tonight, especially if Ted goes back to Kansas)... going to therapy (**hoping, kicking, screeching, praying**)....

You may yet be right about Roy/Keeley! Before the season began, I had zero doubts in my mind they were endgame. Also, I forget sometimes that between a lot of these episodes, we're meant to believe like...actual months have gone by, so it's more spread out than I'm thinking it is. However, it's also that the show has a lot they need to wrap up in three episodes if this is the end of the end, & Roy and Keeley are only one part of it.

I think, ultimately, I care way more about their individual arcs ending well in a way that is both satisfying and sensical than I do about them getting back together in the canon timeline. I absolutely do need them to end on good terms though, preferably at least as close friends.

What I want more than anything and still believe is in the realm of possibility is for them + Jamie to sit down and admit they are all caught up in each other irreversibly at this point and won't be shaken away easily. That they care deeply about one another and will most likely care forever (terms & conditions undefined).

[amplifyme]

In the Forests of the Night-- perfect name for the episode, perfect follow-up to A Time to Heal. The entire ending got me in the tear ducts. 

ROLLEY’S BACK, Vincent’s journal entry (“so much rage… where is the hope?”) Father trying to lure Vincent back to live with the community and Vincent’s cut lines of “promises to keep”, Diana’s sister?? and Alex and her birthday present (independent like Diana), Rolley’s tolerance and trying to wheedle drugs out of Vincent, Vincent’s rage and threats at Tony (no mercy, straight to threats of death), the wheelings and dealings of the drug men, GABRIEL OF COURSE, Father holding Rolley, Vincent going ham on the drug den, Gabriel smirking that Vincent is alive, Joe’s back, Rolley’s gone (of course), Father trying to talk Rolley back (like he can’t with Vincent) and failing (like he has with Vincent.), Diana’s cut script dream (fascinating implications) and piercing her finger on Cathy’s white rose, Joe’s here, Diana trying to talk Joe away from the truth but being stymied by Joe’s survivor, Diana apologizing to Cathy, Vincent didn’t harm Horner (still didn’t cross the line Paracelsus tried to force with Spirko), Vincent writing in his journal about how his actions “ruined” only him, lost children (his son, Rolley, other kids), Snow’s ring, Lewis shaking during Gabriel’s speech and knowing his death is at hand, “my enemy, my brother”, Lewis unplugging his own chord, Diana tracking Vincent (that line Vincent said of “saving him from himself”-- can’t remember exact line but he’s not wrong), Joe confronting her in her apartment, Vincent’s “nothing up there but death”-- what a change, Father’s wise speech about fatherhood and choices (and indirectly talking about himself letting Vincent make his own choices and respecting them), “this isn’t really about Rolley”, Diana hunting down Tony just as Rolley shows up, the piano music crescendoing as Rolley runs and Vincent sets out on the prowl and Diana finds him, “there are no safe places for anyone”, Diana frustrated he’d destroyed Gabriel’s place without knowing it was his, “and did it help him? Is he better now?”, Diana’s been there too, Vincent has nothing but THESE and Diana immediately saying “those can’t help you find your son”-- WHAT A PARALLEL to Cathy’s “these are my hands” (uhoh, that’s probably why he’s using them now, UHOH), “I can make Gabriel bleed night after night” (there’s that “enemy, brother” that Gabriel expects from Vincent), “by then it won’t matter who wins, Vincent”, and “what kind of father do you want your son to have?” is powerful, if he continues alone he will lose everything, “where is the hope, Diana?”, Diana tears up as he walks off, ROLLEY PLAYING THE PIANO THERE’S THE HOPE-- all who are lost can be found or can find themselves, Vincent tearing up, A LETTER TO DIANA ON HER BALCONY WITH SNOW’S RING. 

Okay, now for some questions~. I've been consuming so much new information that I've gotten fuzzy on some old bits.

I know that Oz/Kansas and Shangri-La was a specific tie to Devin as a character and Vincent's relationship with him; but when/how did it transform over into a singularly "Vincent" allegory-- or was that a creation of Nan's in A Darkling Plain?

And hope this is not too personal, but I was curious: is your Gossamer name a reference to this series or "wholly original"? ;))

Tyger, tyger burning bright, in the forests of the night...

Let's unpack this one, shall we?

First of all, a reminder. This episode, as well as the final two, were cut from the mid-season winter schedule when the show was canceled and were only aired the following summer, five months later. So we knew about them, but didn't know if we'd ever get to see them or not. Nan had already started writing the stories for AWTN 1 and had to go back and do some revisions to reflect the new information we learned about Diana (specifically) and what the show might look like going forward after the baby arc.

And ITFOTN was jam-packed with Diana info. Lovely tidbits that 4th season writers snatched up in greedy little hands. Like the fact that she had a sister, Susan, and a niece, Alex. The things she said to Susan about the impact V had on her life - obliquely, of course. The way she tried to steer Joe away from V and then apologizing to Cathy for it after Joe left. Vincent's downward spiral (again) and his utter frustration and sense of helplessness and feelings of being so alone in his hunt for his son - and his inability to help Rolley. Gabriel's "My enemy, my brother," sentiment. Oh, and what you saw as Gabe's smirk upon learning V was still alive, I saw as more of a grimace that he hadn't managed to kill him and there was more to come before he could claim victory.

I love the way Diana came in as clean-up crew after V destroyed the warehouse, digging to find out who saw what and whether Lew had been on the business end of V's claws or not. No claw marks = nothing to tie his injuries directly to V. Knowing the warehouse was Gabriel's even if she didn't know for certain how she knew it and having it confirmed by Lew's body language and avoiding her eyes. Pressing Tony for exactly where he'd encountered V because she was determined to stop V from destroying himself. And all that because of her driving need to protect him - even if it's from himself.

And her confrontation with Vincent! Pure gold. The way she strode into that alley and got right up in his face from the get-go. The look V gives her when she asks, "Did it help him? Is he better now?" The dismissive look she gives his hands, her "Until you kill him or he kills you. By then it won't matter who wins," trying to get him to see that what he's done and wants to continue doing makes him no better than Gabriel. And, of course, the gut punch she delivers with "What kind of father do you want your son to have?" Yeah, powerful is a good word to describe that. I still stand up and cheer every time I watch that scene. I think if she thought she could've gotten away with it, she'd have smacked him upside the head and told him to open his eyes and see that he doesn't have to do this on his own. But the "If you continue alone in this, you are going to lose everything," worked too. She cuts him zero slack and that is exactly the kind of person he needs in his life. No one has ever confronted him that way, with cold, hard truths. And what do you know, it works. After V discovers Rolley back Below and at the piano, he realizes there is still hope and lets her in, gives her the ring, along with his trust - a very large thing indeed. And it's obvious she knows what a huge deal that is and will do everything in her power to help him find his son. I just love her to pieces.

Okay, got that out of my system. 🤣

Everything else you said? Big thumbs up!

I would recommend that you watch The Chimes at Midnight and Invictus together, as they tie up the baby arc. A few trivial things about those two eps: Perlman directed Chimes and did a nice job of it. GRRM wrote Invictus and you can tell - it's a banger of a script. Don't know if you're light sensitive, but FYI Invictus has two scenes with pretty heavy flashing/strobing sequences. The final scene of Invictus was culled from one of the first scenes of The Reckoning and edited in before broadcast since it wasn't known at the time if CBS would ever show the 3 "lost episodes." So you get to see that same scene in full in The Reckoning. I can't say enough about both Chimes and Invictus; you'll just have to see for yourself. It's a wild ride.

As to your questions: I think the Oz/Kansas and Shangri-La thing was simply Nan picking up that thread from the show and expanding on it, as she was so good at doing with many things.

You asked about my stuff on Gossamer but did you mean AO3? Because everything I have on Gossamer is under my own name. I chose wonderland on AO3 because when I'm writing and really get lost in it, I often feel like Alice must have when she fell down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. Like it's a whole new reality. Does that make sense?

[mmhaterade]

The 2023 Hater's Guide to the West Region

This blog is not in any way affiliated with the NCAA, its entities, subsidiaries, or member institutions. This is a humor site and should be treated as such. We’re all on our way out – act accordingly.

1. Kansas (28-6). When Texas beat Kansas to end the Big 12 (8?) regular season, the intrepid videographer shooting the game happened to catch a KU coed wearing a t-shirt which read “I (heart) Dick.” A-fucking-mazing. Look, I don’t have to tell you KU fans need this one seed, need the wins, need a title more than anything to justify their continued existence. They live in Kansas for fuck’s sake – Interstate 70 ends in Lawrence and you are stuck wandering the plains like Denzel Washington in Book of Eli until you reach Colorado, and the interstate magically appears again. There is NOTHING to do here other than watch basketball, and that says a lot, because I live in Iowa!

2. UCLA (29-5). This is a Bruin, right? With that face, I am 100% sure his name is “Crick Monin.”

3. Gonzaga (28-5). There is a new Constitutional amendment which clearly states you are no longer allowed to refer to Gonzaga as a Cinderella school. It’s been twenty five years - I think the slipper finally broke. They’ve now been in every final AP poll since the 2008-09 season, and have appeared in every weekly AP poll since 2016-17, a streak of 115 consecutive weeks. I will never stop laughing when eighth year senior Drew Timme appears on my TV screen. All I see is TIMMY from South Park. Fuck John Stockton.

4. UConn (25-8). Go back to the AAC! Biggest group of crybabies in the country and it isn’t even close. When their women’s team had an injury plagued season (lost five games including back-to-back games for the first time in 30 years), Geno Auriemma vented to the media and to his team, telling them they had three days before the conference tournament to fix things. Then he got in his car and drove home to Manchester, wishing he could continue westward. “The way I felt was I want to wake up in California in three days,” he said. “I just want to keep driving, I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to come to practice.” Jesus man, just fucking quit already and move away from that awful place. Twitter account CrimsonCast put it best: UConn continues to fail to shake the perception that they are simply an analytics darling. Like an east coast version of the Mountain West.

5. Saint Mary’s (26-7). Every bracket, no matter the site, always lists this school as “Saint Mary’s (CA).” Why? No one is confusing this school for the archaeological dig site posing as a university in Maryland, or the all-women’s college in north-central Indiana where many of the enrolled students play for nearby Leprechaun U, also known as Notre Dame. No, this is the school – in California – that gets exclusive coverage on ESPN Australia/New Zealand. Sixty percent of the student body is involved in organized athletics here, so it’s a good chance you’ll be handed a scholarship and some sort of ball upon move-in. It’s either that or forced labor washing jockstraps.

6. TCU (21-12). Their coach gives out a pair of “charge socks” when a Horned Frog player takes a charge. There’s a big bucket of these colorful dress socks in the TCU locker room. Charge socks? You have to be kidding me. You are in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex, you can’t find a bag of blow or an extra couple of c-notes for your athletes? (Producer cuts in…garbled static…). Pardon me, I’ve just been informed that the “C” in TCU stands for “Christian.” There is no cocaine on campus. But NIL is legal now, surely you can find something other than a pair of sweaty dress socks to reward your unpaid employees. Perhaps a sad handjob from a coed who has already put on the freshman 15+15+15?

7. Northwestern (21-11). Congratulations, you finished top three in the Big Ten for the first time since 1960. You won your last conference championship 90 (!) years ago. You have made one (1) NCAA tournament and had to be retroactively selected as something called the Helms National Champion. Your most successful head coach played for Phog Allen at Kansas – in 1917! Northwestern basketball is the definition of futility. They are the Chicago Cubs of the NCAA; fitting for a program that markets itself as “Chicago’s Big Ten team” (insert jerking off hand motion here). Even if Northwestern won 25 games a season for the next 25 years, they would still have a losing record.

8. Arkansas (20-13). It is against state law to mispronounce “Arkansas'' while in the state, yet their residents  pronounce jalapeno “Holla-PEE-no.” Gun to my head, I wouldn’t be able to look at Sarah Huckabee Sanders naked, playing with a hula hoop, for more than a second.

9. Illinois (20-12). Brad Underwood is a bargain-bin Gene Keady who is very upset about “booty ball.” Every press conference he attends ends with him making a wet fart sound into the microphone.

10. Boise State (24-9). No one gives a shit about this team unless tater tots rise to $6 a bag – then it’s time to storm the blue court. I know exactly one person from Idaho and their personality matches that of the official state produce. This person is incapable of being corrected. They are always right. You are always wrong. If you say the sky is blue, their response will no doubt begin with “well, actually…” Boise is also not a state, you arrogant fuckhead.

11. Arizona State (20-12) or Nevada (23-9). Over 60% of the student body at ASU has some form of herpes. Unless you are a model, they throw you in an engineering building for four years. If you hate Duke just like the rest of America, you generally hate Christian Laettner and Grant Hill. But there’s one player from those early-90s teams everyone forgot: Bobby Hurley. As I’ve aged, my hatred for Hurley has waned, but I’ll always wish maximum pain for whatever team he coaches.

With the growth of legalized sports gambling across the United States, the University of Nevada has introduced several new classes for the 2023-24 school year: Kneecap Relocation, Intermediate Hammer Smashing Techniques, and Advanced Vig Calculation. Another new course addition as of Thursday morning: Getting Your Shit Pushed In By A Sun Devil Pitchfork. Too soon? Probably.

12. VCU (27-7). VCU stands for Very Completely Underwhelming. This isn’t a college, it’s an industrial laundry that has tricked 28,000 students into paying the institution to “work.” If you want a perfect example of the bloat in higher education administration, consider there are over 11,000 non-academic staff at VCU. Never trust a doctor from this school; they only practiced on centaurs.  

13. Iona (27-7). Someone is going to give Rick Pitino the best 14 seconds of his life to coach for them. 

14. Grand Canyon (24-11). By employing buzzer-beating Valpo alum Bryce Drew, this pretend university has already accomplished more in the NCAA Tournament than Mount Rushmore State, Hoover Dam U, Smokey Mountains College and SUNY-Niagara Falls.

15. UNC Asheville (27-7). Let’s have a quick check-in on how this college is doing. Student enrollment and retention are plunging at UNC-Asheville and top leadership is departing at the highest rate in the entire UNC system. While overall student enrollment in the UNC system has increased 7% since 2015, UNC-Asheville fell by a stunning 25%, the largest drop among the 16 public universities in the system. Of the incoming students UNC-A is able to attract, a high number of them leave before graduation. Retention of students, measured as those returning for a second year of school, is now just 68.6%, the lowest in ten years. Jesus, even Trump University would laugh at these numbers. 

16. Howard (22-12). Howard students recently had to protest living conditions in on-campus dorms – mold, mildew, and rats are apparently very commonplace in multiple residences. It is 2023; the only sensible reason these alarming conditions should be issues on your campus is when you have outsourced every part of the student life experience to a call center in the middle of the Himalayas.

[jumptheshark]

desperate to know what h is

i actually didn’t realize until i went back to find it that i have 2 completely unrelated documents titled “h” so idk what that says about me

ANYWAY this wip is about raphael going rogue during season 5 before swan song. they somehow contact gabriel and confront him with a plan to stop the apocalypse. which is kind of cheesy but i just thought it was fun

“Raphael.“ The voice comes from their left and they turn to find God’s messenger, illuminated by a flickering street light.

“Gabriel.”

“It’s good to see you, bro.”

“Is it?” Raphael takes a step closer and Gabriel does too.

“Well, no, but we’re here aren’t we?”

Raphael is silent.

“So!” Gabriel claps his hands together. “The big celebrity death match is finally here, huh? Feels like just yesterday we were-“

“Gabriel.” Raphael’s voice echoes through the alley. Gabriel pauses, then continues.

“Earth was great and all, but it’s probably time to move on. We’ve been through how many species now? I’m sure Calypso could do much better-“

“I want to stop it, Gabriel.” That earns them a suffocating silence.

After many moments, Gabriel says, “That’s not a very smart thing to say, you know.”

“This isn’t a joke, brother.”

“So what’s with the change of heart then? Mikey finally get you to snap or what?” Gabriel is keeping his distance - physically and emotionally - but Raphael can see the curiosity in his eyes, can see the way he’s sizing up Raphael on whether they’re telling the truth or not.

“You and I both know I’ve never wanted this.”

“So you waited until now to say something?”

“Not all of us can just run away from our problems when life gets tough.” They remember the way Michael and Lucifer had torn apart heaven and earth looking for Gabriel. They can still feel the way Michael held them tight, as if they would disappear next, right out from underneath him. It was probably the last time the three of them were ever united.

Gabirel says nothing to that, but glares.

———

I also have a bonus human!michael wip that was in the same doc for some reason:

Because these creatures weren’t just tiny, they were fragile, weak. Michael could imagine killing one just by brushing it the wrong way. And yet, he had his orders and he raised the tiny beings. They were the first of many tiny things, and the humans were like dust compared to them. But they were God’s favorite, and Michael was to protect them at all costs.

He watched on as they wandered about their Earth like ants, their lives short and meaningless. He couldn’t fathom how they lived that way, or why his father would want them to live that way. It was messy and of so little consequence that he could only imagine their lives were nothing but painful.

And millions of years later, in a cold bunker in Kansas, he is proven right.

He shoots up with a gasp, head emerging from underneath water. He’s soaking wet and his lungs are burning, but he’s cold - he’s freezing cold.

[mikeisafighter]

Power Rankings

Let’s go to it.

1. Eagles - Well, they’re the best for a reason right now. Could’ve dropped them because of a loss, but it wasn’t quite enough

2. Bengals -  3. Bills - Whoever wins this game next week will probably be in good position to have top seed in the AFC

4. Chiefs - Kansas City needs to be a little more sound offensively. Next week they should ROFLStomp all over Denver.

5. 49ers - I am a 49ers fan but this is as high as I’m having them until the top 4 teams above lose another game and they keep winning.

6. Vikings - Minnesota the one score dominators lol. They need to be more assertive. Last time they won by more than 1 score? Against the Packers, their next opponent.

7. Cowboys - It’s a shame that Dallas is having a strong year, they’re just stuck in a brutal division.

8. Chargers - Justin Herbert is playoff bound finally.

9. Ravens - They desperately need Lamar Jackson back if they’re gonna be a threat to win.

10. Giants - No need to panic, as long as they win next week they’re back in the playoffs.

11. Jaguars - Here comes Jacksonville, looking like a threat to make the playoffs and go on a run. Their next game doesn’t really matter too much, it all depends on the following week against the Titans

12. Titans - See above (Titans are in freefall tho, but they should be OK heading into the Week 18 finale)

13. REDSKINS - The REDSKINS have to hold off Packers, Lions and Seahawks Oh My. Can they do enough to make it? Trust level is pretty low now in them

14. Jets - I know you’re thinking, WTF Jets over Miami? Well, I have reasons. Jets are playing better defensively than the Dolphins right now. Offensively, uh yeah.

15. Buccaneers - By default, a division leader has to be in my top 16. Still, it’s the Bucs. They haven’t looked good, at ANY point. There’s still time to go on a good run though, but not much. Is this Brady’s last hurrah?

16. Dolphins - YES I know the Dolphins are still playoff bound too but they look cooked. 4 straight losses and they’re playing awful at the wrong time. Don’t be surprised if they end up 8-9.

17. Lions - Still going strong as a whole, they are on that playoff doorstep. They just need to kick it down rather than try to use a toy knife.

18. Seahawks - They should be applauded for having a solid year, but it looks as if Geno Smith is back to a pumpkin as their playoff push is all but over. Unless he beats his former team.

19. Packers - Cannot quite put them among the top of the 7-8s just yet. They need to be better overall as a whole. Still they’ve gone 4-7 since their 3-1 start.

20. Steelers - If by some miracle they make the playoffs, the Dolphins should trade Tua. lol

21. Patriots - I refuse to believe this team is completely done but next week is an elimination game for them. Lose and they’re out

22. Panthers - Win out and they’re in, how dumb is that? Beat the Bucs next week and the NFC South is in their grasp.

23. Raiders - Somehow this team isn’t dead yet but it’s on life support.

24. Saints (See #22) - They still have a pulse but they might want to draft another QB for 2023.

25. Rams - They finally woke up and laid a thumping, to a terrible team. A win is a win though.

26. Falcons - They just couldn’t do enough. 5-10 is certainly not gonna get it done and because Bucs/Panthers is next week, Falcons are out of playoffs.

27. Cardinals - They’ve looked like crap all season. A major step back for a team expected to contend for a playoff spot.

28. Bears - Justin Fields may be one year away from really taking this team somewhere. Just get some good pieces and they could challenge for the division.

29. Texans - Yes I know, a 2 win team this high? They’ve actually done pretty well the last few weeks, and it’s enough for me to bump them up here.

30. Colts - They’re a mess, period. They didn’t really show up against the Chargers, still stewing from that meltdown v.s. the Vikings. The Jeff Saturday experience closes in about 2 weeks.

31. Browns - The DeShaun Watson experience is already a disaster. They should have never traded 8 picks for him and instead all Cleveland did was boost Houston’s future. Now Cleveland is already a PR nightmare thanks to Cleveland brass’s stupidity. Oh and they’re out of playoff contention too.

32. Broncos - I mean, as bad as Cleveland’s been, Denver’s been an absolute dumpster fire. Rookie head coach fired, the less said the better. Let’s move on.

33. Georgia Bulldogs - Maybe they could win a game against Denver LMAO

[doctorstethoscope]

In the Garden || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

hello babes! Something a little different today-- I didn’t have time to write a request that I was going to be pleased with, so this is something that’s been sitting in my drive for a while. Hope you like it! 

Submit requests here! 

contains: sexual innuendo, gun mention

wordcount: 2.4k

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress, much less a gown like the one JJ was zipping you into now-- dresses weren’t practical for field work with the BAU, and even when you’d worked in the counterterrorism unit, you’d much preferred a professional blouse and pair of slacks. But the First Lady had decided to throw a ball in the White House to celebrate federal employees, and the Bureau was receiving an award, which the Director had hand-picked the BAU to accept. So, gown. Even though you’d much prefer to be changing into a pair of sweats-- you had been called on a case two days before the ball, and Garcia saved the day by running to everyone’s apartments and grabbing their nice clothes so you all wouldn’t be late. Which is how you found yourself squeezing into a sleek off the shoulder number in the Batcave, with Emily batting at your face with a makeup brush and JJ tugging at your zipper. 

“Babe, you look hot.” Penelope says as Emily and JJ step away from you, admiring their work. 

“All Emily’s work,” you deflected with a shy smile. 

“We’ll have that fight when we’re not running late,” Emily said, pulling you out of Garcia’s office, she and JJ not far behind. 

Derek let out a wolf whistle when he saw you all approaching, and you heard JJ’s windchime laugh from a few steps behind. 

“Hello ladies,” he said with an exaggerated leer. 

“Derek Morgan, you’re lucky that my thigh holster doesn’t go with this dress.” Emily spits out, and all of you burst out in laughter. 

“Chocolate thunder, you clean up good,” Garcia says, crossing to Derek, who moved to put his arm around her shoulders as Reid emerged into the bullpen. 

“Speaking of cleaning up good,” JJ says with a small smile, and you catch Reid blushing. 

“Did you know that balls like this can cost American taxpayers up to a million dollars?” He asks the group, and you smile.

“Maybe don’t mention that when the first lady gives us the award, yeah Spence?” You tease, and he treats you to a little chuckle.

You hear Hotch before you turn to see him and Rossi. “Alright, let’s go,” He says, leading the group out of the BAU and towards your SUVs. You end up in the passenger seat of the car Rossi is driving. 

“You doing okay, kid? You’re awful quiet this evening. Invitations to Federal Government Prom don’t come often, you know.” He smirks, and you half-ass a smile in return. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, Rossi. Just tired, you know. Would have preferred to get a night’s sleep in my own bed before we did this, you know?” 

He nods, but there’s no use in lying to a profiler. 

The food, you have to admit, is leagues better than the instant ramen you would have cooked up if you had gone home tonight. And the conversation isn’t half bad either, you admit to yourself as you lazily flirt with Paul, a junior fellow from the Department of Health and Human Services, just barely putting in enough effort to seem interested while allowing your mind to wander.

The sensation of a warm hand in between your exposed shoulder blades distracts you from your train of thought. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron’s deep baritone interrupts Paul’s nervous tenor. “I’d like to cut in for a dance, if you don’t mind.”

Paul sputters, and you laugh, because you know that Aaron was asking you, not this early-thirties politico type that he towered over, both physically and morally. 

“We’ll catch up later?” you said to Paul, with absolutely no intent to catch up later, before Aaron led you out to the dance floor. 

“Hotch, I’m gonna step on your feet.” You warned. 

“No you won’t,” he assures you. “Follow my lead.” 

You do as you’re told, and you’re surprised to realize just how easy it is to follow him, anywhere. 

“Aaron Hotchner, when on Earth did you learn to ballroom dance?” You asked incredulously. 

“Boarding school,” He answers with an easy smile.

“You’re joking,” you accuse. 

“Ah, yes, something I’m known to do.”

“You remain a mystery, Hotchner.”  You tell him.

“I don’t know. That might have been my last secret.” 

You roll your eyes, content to continue dancing, and finding yourself getting distracted again. 

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asks, and you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down in front of your boss. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. But really grateful to be here, of course, and--”

“I wasn’t asking as your boss, you can stand down,” He smirks, dipping you quickly and it takes your breath away. “You’re thinking of leaving.” He says as he lifts you back up, and it’s not a question. 

“How did you-- I can’t believe-- Damn profilers.” You harrumphed. 

“You’ve been distant, the past couple weeks. You’re in your early twenties accepting an award at the White House, by all accounts you should be ecstatic. That’s when I knew something was wrong. And when I saw you with Peter, or whatever his name was, who you couldn’t be less interested in, that’s when I knew it was us.” 

“See, and that’s exactly why I need to leave. Because I’ll never be able to do that.” You tell him, finally looking him in the eye.

“You will,”  He says in a self-assured tone that does nothing to assuage your anxiety.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. 

“I do.” 

“Maybe I’m not good enough, Hotch.” You confess carelessly. He’s already figured you out. Might as well fess up to your deepest insecurities while your boss holds you and stares you down with his deep brown eyes in the middle of the East Room.

“You are,” he says in that same tone, that you’re sure is supposed to be calming but is only infuriating. 

“But maybe I’m not! Maybe I’m one of those people who always wanted to do it, who always wanted to be an agent, but it’s like a pipe dream for me. I don’t contribute to the team the same way everyone else does. I don’t pick up on the things that seem so obvious to all of you, and it sucks. I can still do good work, but you know-- you change your dreams and you grow up. Maybe I’m one of those people and I’m just not supposed to be here. I just can’t stay knowing that I’m not supposed to be here-- I have to leave.” You’re not even sure if your soliloquy makes any sense, but Aaron pulls you a little closer, so he can speak the next few words lowly, directly into your ear. 

“You’ve been here eight months. It takes time. You are an incredible agent, and an asset to this team. I don’t need another profiler that sees the same things we all see-- I need you, and your observations, the things we missed-- those are the things that solve cases. I can’t-- I can’t allow you to change your dream. I can’t let you leave. I need you here.” 

You let his words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks again. 

“The, uh-- the team needs you. We all need you, and your observations, is what I meant.” He stammers. 

“Hotch?’ You ask, confused by the sudden change in tone. 

“Do you want to go get some fresh air? Get away from the crowd?” He asks, pulling away to look at you, and there’s an invitation in his eyes. Maybe a more seasoned profiler would know exactly what it was, but you were excited to find out nonetheless.  

“Yeah, I think I do.”

You’re certain that you’re breaking some sort of law as Hotch pulls you out of the ballroom and down a hallway, his fingers interlocked with yours. You try not to think about it too much. Your heels click against the marble floors as you follow Aaron’s brisk pace, and eventually he finds a door outside, opening it up and allowing you to pass through it first. It takes a minute to place yourself, especially under the cover of night, but after a moment you realize you’re in the rose garden. 

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” You say under your breath with a little laugh as you look out over the sprawling display of flowers and plants. 

“It definitely beats the Quantico courtyard,” Aaron agrees.

“Never thought I’d make it there, either.” You confess, not looking at him.

“But you did. It wasn’t meant to be easy, but you made it, and you’ll grow. You just need time.” He tells you. 

“How can you be so sure?” You ask, feeling your eyes well up. 

“I was young once, too.” He tells you with a self-deprecating grin. 

“You can’t play up the wise, ancient elder with me, Hotch. I’ve seen you chase Jack across a soccer field like you’re still in your twenties.” You laugh, but he can hear the emotions behind it.

“Hey, come on, I mean it. I’m not Rossi, but I’ve got my fair dose of wisdom to share,” he says, moving closer to you and placing a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Let’s keep dancing. If you want to talk, you can talk. But you thought you couldn’t dance, and you could dance, right? So we can keep doing that until you believe me.” He said, pulling your hand up in his and placing his other on your waist. 

The two of you moved slowly, the orchestra from inside only barely audible from where you were standing. With Hotch’s bad ear, he could really only hear it when his body was angled just right in the direction of the East Room, but somehow he had perfect rhythm regardless. You move in silence for a song or two or three before Hotch speaks up again. 

“I lied to you, earlier.” He confesses, still guiding you effortlessly through a simple waltz. 

“How do you mean?” You ask, suddenly nervous that you were right, that you’re a complete failure of an agent, and that you need to pack your bags and head on back to Kansas.

“I lied when I said that I’d told you my last secret.”

“Oh,” you said, too caught up in your own head to try to understand what he was saying.

“And I lied when I told you that I meant the team needed you--” you felt that bone-crushing weight on your soul again-- “we do, of course, but that’s not what I meant.” 

“Hotchner, what are you talking about?” You finally asked, no longer able to tolerate the emotional whiplash of his conversation.

“When I said I needed you, I meant it.” 

“Oh,” you say, your face a portrait of shock and confusion, even though you understood him completely. 

“That’s selfish of me as a person, and wrong of me as your superior, and maybe that means that I’m outing myself as the kind of fucked-up person that isn’t worth another second of your time, but I needed you to know.” He stops dancing now, tries to hedge a bit of space between you without letting you go entirely. 

“Aaron,” you whisper, clinging to him more tightly as he pulls away, feeling his jacket wrinkle under your fingernails. 

“Yes?” he whispers back. 

“I’m glad you told me,” you tell him, and that’s all the permission he needs to take your face in both of your hands and kiss you, with a gentleness that makes you feel like spun gold, with the reverence of a man who knows that love is not a game, with the hunger of one who has been starved for months. 

He pulls away from you, too soon, and your eyes are wet. “My resignation will be on your desk by Monday morning.”

He takes a step away. “What do you--” 

“Goodnight, Aaron,” You tell him with a sad little smile, turning around towards the door you came from and leaving him in the garden.

You’re drowning your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s when the doorbell rings the next day. You swing the door open grumpily, to reveal Aaron. 

“It’s Saturday, and you can’t turn in your resignation until 9am Monday. What can I do in the next forty eight hours to convince you that you belong here?” Aaron asks, still standing in the hall of your apartment complex.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. You can’t give him what he wants, but you won’t have this argument where all the neighbors will hear, either. “It’s too late, Hotch.”

“It’s not too late,” he argues, checking his watch. “I have forty six hours and thirteen minutes.”

“I’ll still be the girl who got this job on her back forty six hours from now.” You tell him, folding your arms.

“You’ll be what?” He asks, incredulous. 

“I know that you heard me loud and clear. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know that you slept with Erin Strauss. I didn’t think you were her type.” He says, and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re absolutely incorrigible!” You cry out. 

“Who implied that you got this job on anything other than your own merit?” Aaron asks, a glint in his eye that lets you know that they’ll be handled just as soon as he gets you to shred the letter of resignation you drafted last night.

“Didn’t I? You didn’t clear my promotion because you were attracted to me?” You asked.

“I cleared your promotion before we even met-- your interview was a bureau formality. Your reputation and the glowing recommendations from your peers in counterterrorism spoke volumes.”  He assures you.

“Oh,” you let out, your anger deflating. 

“If you want to leave because of my inappropriate behavior, please reconsider. I’m incredibly sorry for--” He starts, but you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Please continue to be inappropriate,” you tell him in between kisses. 

He smiles as he continues to place kisses across your face, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “Right now?” He asks, slipping a hand underneath your shirt.  “You want me to be inappropriate right now?” 

“If you’re really good at it, I’ll let you tear up my resignation yourself.” 

@romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse @scuttling

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

If the inspiration takes you, would you be able to write a lil something about a misunderstanding and miscommunication? Light angst ficlet with a happy ending? I love your fics, thank you for sharing your talent with us and choosing this fandom!

okay I had to think about this one for a second, because as y'all know I don't normally write angst, but here we are! also thank you for your kind words ;-; although I'm not really sure I chose spn I think I just got sucked into the vortex and here we are.

I hope you enjoy this ficlet! (also imagine this is a fake season 9. where dean doesn't kick cas from the bunker and they go on hunts <3) (also this got way out of hand I'm so sorry)

*********

It was supposed to be a milk run.

Of course, half the time that they get a case that's "supposed to be a milk run," it ends with one of them almost dying, just for the hell of it, and today's no exception.

Sam's off on a different hunt in Colorado, so it's just Dean and Cas, which is no problem. Dean trusts Cas to watch his six, to watch everything.

Or, at least, it isn't a problem until their "milk run" turns into a really pissed-off poltergeist (to be fair, Dean'd be pretty pissed if someone was shooting at him), and then Dean gets hurled halfway back to Kansas, it feels like, and by the time he comes to with a pounding in his head and a searing pain in his shoulder, said poltergeist is gone and Cas is standing over him with a big, bleeding gash across his face.

Every time Cas gets hurt these days, it's like a fucking train wreck. He tries to heal himself, and then he can't, and he gets all moody and sullen, which, like, Dean can understand, but it doesn't make it any easier, and to make matters worse today Cas tried to heal Dean, and now they're sitting in the Impala in complete silence while Dean drives, trying to ignore his aching right shoulder.

"Where're we going?" Cas finally asks, picking at his sweater's sleeves. Dean's already mentally going over what might be best to get the blood out of it--lemon juice? Vinegar? He read in a magazine that hairspray is good for stains, oddly enough, but of course he doesn't own any--

"The hospital," Dean answers.

"So you can dump me there?"

"So I can--what?!" Dean takes his eyes off the road for a second to look at Cas, staring out the windshield. He's got one hand messing with his sweater and the other holding Dean's flannel over his still-bleeding face. "We're going 'cause if I try to stitch up that cut, I'm gonna end up stabbing you in the eye."

"You have very steady hands."

"Not when I'm worried. Let's go back to the dumping thing." Dean glances at Cas again. "Why would I leave you in a hospital?"

Cas shrugs. "I'm not useful anymore. Without my grace."

"That's a crock of shit, and you know it."

"Do I?"

Dean lets out a sigh and pulls the car over, trucks honking behind him. He doesn't think Cas is going to bleed out, and if this flannel gets soaked, there's another in the trunk.

"Look." Dean turns his body to completely face Cas, which crunches his legs, but this is important. "I know I'm shit with words, but you gotta hear me. First of all, I've been hunting since I was a kid, without an angel, and I'm still alive."

"Actually, you died and I--"

"Shut up. Second of all, I know in your head you're an angel first, but in my head, you're Cas first. You don't stop being Cas just because Metatron took your grace."

Cas doesn't respond, and it's actually kinda hard to tell what he's thinking when half of his face is covered in a bloody flannel, so Dean reaches out a hand to tug on Cas's wrist and pull the fabric off.

Okay, that's a lot of blood.

"You get me?" Dean asks, and Cas nods. Dean slides back to his seat and starts the car.

"What'd you mean about being worried?" Cas finally asks.

"What?" Dean turns to see if there are any cars coming and then pulls back onto the highway.

"You said you didn't have steady hands when you're worried."

"Put the flannel back on," Dean says. "I'm worried about you, dumbass."

"Because I'm--"

"Yes, because you're bleeding out of your face!" Dean curses and pulls over again. "For the love of god, Cas. What am I gonna have to do to convince you that I care about you?"

Before Dean even asks the question, though, he knows the answer. He's known the answer for a while, since last year in purgatory. Since he prayed to Cas for year, killed monsters to find him. Since Cas didn't make it out and Dean saw his face everywhere. Since Cas appeared behind him in a random motel, covered in dirt and grime.

Since he found Cas lying dead in an armchair, shirt ripped and stomach sliced open, since he lied to April to bring Cas back.

When humans want something really bad, we lie.

Well, Dean's gonna be truthful for a second. He's tried to say it before, in different words, words like that's the hardest I've laughed in a long time or I'd rather have you, cursed or not or nobody gets left behind or I need you.

He might as well say it straight.

"We're never going to get to the hospital if you keep doing this," Cas points out helpfully, and Dean just about rolls his eyes.

"Well then shut up and listen. I like myself, and the world, a whole lot better when you're around. And I like you."

"You like me."

"I love you."

Okay, he didn't mean to say that.

Yet.

Cas's reaction happens slowly and then all at once. One second, he's staring at Dean, almost blankly (although it's hard to read his expression because, once again, flannel on his face), and then the next second he's dropped the fabric and is kissing Dean.

It's actually kinda gross, because of all the blood, but Dean's mind has also stopped working so he doesn't notice that much. There's been dozens of times over the years that he's wanted to do this, more than he can count, and the shock doesn't recede until Cas is pulling away.

"My head hurts," Cas finally says.

"Okay, we're going." Dean pulls back onto the highway for real this time, although he takes one hand off the wheel and finds Cas's free hand on the seat.

(Their second kiss, after Cas has gotten stitches and one of the other nurses at the emergency room helpfully relocates Dean's shoulder, is a lot less bloody.

The rest all run together.)

[david-muffin-nolan]

After he fails to respond to her text, Rebecca calls Ted to check he safely arrived in Kansas.

(Would love some feedback comments! This is a side blog, so I can't reply, but in the words of Ted Lasso, I appreciate you!)

Ted managed to get another hour of sleep, before the light blaring through the curtains became too bright, and he finally gave up. Making his way into the kitchen he set about making some pancake mix ready for Henry’s breakfast.

Pancake mix prepped, and a sweet but strong coffee in hand, he had just sat down at the table when Rebecca’s number lit up his phone. Smiling to himself, he pressed accept without hesitation.

“Good, ah-morning Ted?”

Warmth spread through him immediately as he heard her voice, and his smile brightened. But as he looked down at the time, anxiety began brewing at the pit of his stomach. It was 7AM in Kansas, and that meant 1AM in London.

“That’s right boss. But ain’t it late in London? What are you doin’ calling me for? Not that I mind of course. It’s good to hear from you.”

“Yes. Believe it or not I’m still in the office. I was just finishing up some last minute paperwork before I take a week off, thank God. Nothing to worry about. I was just ringing to check you landed.”

Relief flooded through him. She was fine. Rebecca was fine. And she was worried about him.

“Yeah sorry about that, didn’t get the chance to reply to message yet. Got back late last night”.

“No of course I understand.”

“So, how’s it going across the pond?”

“Well its pitch black and raining here. Typical fucking England.”

“Ah, I’ll get my momma to pray y’all get some good weather Boss. Got anything nice planned for tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately, I’m having lunch with my mother, God help me”.

Ted chuckled lightly “Say hello to Deborah for me, will ya?”

“Of course, I think she likes you more than me at this point Ted.”

“Well now that’s not true.”

“Well, we have come to some sort of a mutual understanding since my father’s funeral. But she’s still grieving him. And I suppose, I’m still angry at him, even now he’s gone. It doesn’t make things easy.”

As the conversation suddenly shifted tone, Rebecca was suddenly silent, as though suprised by her own admission, her soft breathing on the line the only confirmation she was still there. Ted’s brow furrowed in concern, as he tried to understand the implication of her words.

“Hey Rebecca, you doin okay?”

“What me?” she scoffed. “Of course I’m fine Ted, I’m always fine.”

“Well I know that ain’t always true.”

“Well yes I suppose you do.”

Ted could hear her sigh, a rustling, and the sound of her high heels across the floor; he pictured her moving away from her desk, to sit more comfortably on the couch, as she organised her thoughts.

“The truth is, I never really know what to do with myself on the off season. Of course I have things to organize, but with Keely working such long hours now, and with you gone, I’ve found myself at a bit of a loose end. Plus I’m already having biscuit withdrawal, no thanks to you.”

“Well you can always call me Boss. I always here to provide an ear. And I’ll be back before you know it, with a fresh batch of biscuits just in time for biscuits with the boss, okay?”

Rebecca gave a resigned chuckle. “Thanks Ted. And the same goes for you. I’ll let you get back to Henry.”

“Well the little guy isn’t actually awake yet. But as soon as he is, he’s going to be hankering for pancakes.”

“That sounds lovely Ted. And to reiterate, please do call me if you need anything. Were all thinking of you here in Richmond.”

“That’s mighty sweet, thank you Rebecca. I hope you sleep well.”

“Bye Ted.”

Then the line went dead.

The silence was marked by a sudden emptiness that filled his chest. He’d only been away two days and already he missed her?

Fuck.

[stardustnfreckles]

To celebrate the DeanCas100k on ao3 here's a list of my all-time favourite Destiel fanfictions:

CANON VERSE

A turn of the earth Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Early seasons!Dean keeps meeting Cas at the most random moments, till he isn’t anymore... Definetly a must read.

In the shadow of your wings

Set after the S11 finale. Dean kinda breaks Cas’ heart. Because sometimes he can be thick SOB. The Cas finds a new shiny and witty italian boyfriend and Dean’s not happy about it. and now Sam is missing, Mary is back and Dean has a mixed bag of feelings he has to deal with. Probably my favorite canonverse ever.

Like moses and batman and James Dean dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas.

A masterpiece in characterization by saltyfeathers. I loved everything, The dialogues, the flashbacks, the way Dean and Cas emotions are portrayed. There’s angst and internalized homophobia but also confort and IT IS JUST SO GOOD OK?

The best bang for your buck It’s not like Castiel knows who this GotImpala67 person is. There’s no personal information listed on their profile. Except that they’re male, thirty-seven, from Kansas and, apparently, they like inserting things inside themselves.

Cas plays dumb even tho he really is not and I love him for it. Dean is the kind of buyer who leaves detailed reviews of the products he buys (which is the best kind if you ask me) I love the writer’s style and their sense of humor. It’s short although I never get tired of re-reading this one. Also Bring up the deep & Till the juice runs from the same author are with mentioning.

Kisses by sunflowers beds by fanforfanatics & Watched by K_K_TiBal

This two fics have a on thing in common: At the end of both you’ll be asking yourself how can less than 5k hurt you so much?

I cried, then I smiled and cried some more. This fics will crush you in the best way possible.

Take me home country roads The most IC Deamon!Dean I’ve ever read. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions.

What’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles aka queen of post S15 fix-it fics

That black dog ache A simple case turns Dean upside down as he attempts to deal with the effects of a particularly strange love spell.

The perfect gift Castiel has a big problem concerning Dean... thankfully, Sam is always around to help

Really short Crack!Fic about Cas being clueless and adorable.

So says the sword by komodobits

Actually I suggest to go on their ao3 profile and read EVERYTHING.

The profet must die

Dean starts reading Chuck’s book out of curiosity and ends up having a epiphany about his apparently not so much platonic relationship with a certain angel of the lord.

A room of one’s own All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand.

It mostly smut with a bit of healthy angst and great amount of humor.

My Roots Take Flight After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Reverse!Verse set in season 4. It’s interesting to watch their relationship develop even if the roles are reversed.

The hands that bind me Dean is struggling with adjusting back into the civilized world after a year of fighting for his life in Purgatory. He's going to need some angelic assistance reining in his darker impulses.

If your’re into BDSM/Sub!Dean/Dom!Cas/Hurt/Confort/Dark themes then that’s the fic for you.

What has eight tentacles and isn’t allowed to eat pie? Dean is an octopus 🐙 and it’s weird but also kinda sweet.

Cuckoo and nest For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. it puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.

Established relationship/ they’re really bad at communication/ fluff / hurt confort

Put up your dukes Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out.

Along my restless palms Ever since Cas started staying in the bunker, Dean’s been having these crazy dreams—dreams that feature him and Cas in absurd, tawdry scenarios like something out of a filthy paperback. Dean chalks it up to exhaustion, or some monster messing with his head, anything to ignore the real cause: Cas in his personal space, in various states of undress, and, wow, way more muscular than Dean would’ve expected. But if it’s just physical lust that’s the cause, then that’s an easy fix, right? No big deal. There’s definitely nothing else that his subconscious is trying to tell him. Absolutely not.

last but not least Pretty much anything by xylodemon. The atmosphere and the way characters are portrayed are *chef kiss* There are a lor of case fics and they really feels like actual episodes from supernatural just way less omophobic and more fun.

[etherrealoblivion]

Drive Me Insane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….

A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3

tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 4,363

MASTERLIST

~

You fucking hated him! You HATED him!

“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”

The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”

“Write what?”

Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.

When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.

“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”

But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”

A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.

“Wait…. You mean…?”

“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.

“What…. What just happened?”

Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”

Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.

But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.

~

“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”

The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”

He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.

“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”

Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.

“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”

“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”

“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”

He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.

“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”

“Nope, just you.”

He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.

“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”

And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.

But not by you.

~

If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.

Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.

“Y/N?”

His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early? 

“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.

“Why are you here so early?”

You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.

“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.

“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”

He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.

“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”

“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”

His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.

“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”

Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.

~

“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”

The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.

Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.

You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.

“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”

Huh?

“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.

“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.

“And?”

“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”

“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”

That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.

“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”

As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?

But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?

Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.

Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.

“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.

“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”

Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.

The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?

“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.

Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.

You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.

Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.

“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”

At his words, you finally found your voice.

“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”

“Name one time.”

“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”

You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.

“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”

Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!

Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk. 

But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession. 

He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here. 

Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.

So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.

He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.

“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.

He was taking too long. Too fucking long.

Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”

You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.

He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.

“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”

You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.

All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.

“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”

Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.

He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.

It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. 

Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.

“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”

Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.

Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”

You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.

“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.

“Please, what?”

He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.

“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.

Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.

“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.

“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”

“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.

“Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.

“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”

You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”

There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.

“Prove it.”

And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.

You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.

You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.

Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?

“You okay?”

You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.

Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully. 

“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.

He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.

“We should probably get back out there, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.

“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.

“Hey, Spencer?”

He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah?”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.

After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.

~

TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

~

(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss     @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264  @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox