#well if you actually listened you would hear that I do say that all the time

[all3-stxr]

i like the way you kiss me

you and satoru were both teacher at jujutsu tech. as always, he pestered you just as much as he did with nanami and yaga. now, he was sitting on your desk of the empty classroom as you dusted off the chalkboard, pouting about the higher ups.

"i just. . . i don't get it. how they don't give a damn about those kids. i think i do a good job about caring, right?"

"you do really well, satoru." you ruffle his hair before returning back to cleaning the chalkboard.

that makes his cheeks flush a little red, not used to such praise. well, sure, he's praised by so many people, but from you, it just felt. . . different.

he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "so. . . wanna go out and get dinner? or is it too early for all of that?"

you hum quietly. "well, actually, i've been meaning to talk to you about something."

as you turn to face him, his blue eyes met yours as he tilted his head to the side. this was something he wasn't prepared for, but he could deal with it. "yeah? what's up?"

you were only able to meet his eyes directly since he was hunched over on your desk (thank god for that). "i want you to leave jujutsu."

he blinked. did he hear that right? sure, the idea of leaving did come across his mind every now and then, but he could never bring himself to do it. he opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before saying anything. ". . . why?"

you glance away for a moment. "they're just using you."

he stared at you for a moment. he knew you were right. hell, everyone knew it - he hated it just as much as you did - but there was no other option. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know. . . i know they are. but i can't just leave. not now. i have responsibilities, there's so much more that i have to do that i can't just leave."

you gently cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at you, despite his blindfold being on and you didn't know where his eyes were trained. "but you deserve more than that."

he didn't hesitate to lean into your hands, letting out a shaky breath. he wished he could leave. but who was going to take his place? he was the strongest for a reason. and what happens to his students when he leaves? megumi? itadori stuck with sukuna? he would never stop blaming himself if something or someone got hurt after he left. "i- i know but- i can't."

"if you wont leave, then promise me this-"

he didn't hesitate to nod, eyes trained on you as he listened to each and every word you had to say.

"-always come back safe to me."

he was a bit taken aback by this. he was strong enough to take on anything, that was what he was made for, right? he didn't doubt his abilities at all, but if it would ease her anxiety and make her happy, then he'd do it. "i promise."

your eyes narrow, taking in his expression with great scrutiny, making sure he wasn't lying. you gently lift his blind fold onto his forehead, finally meeting his beautiful blue orbs (he knew you loved just looking at them).

"thank you, 'toru." you say softly.

his ears grew a little pink at that. "of course." he muttered quietly.

you couldn't help but laugh a little at how shy he seemed for a moment. "dork."

"but i'm your dork, right?" he smirked down at you, looking at you with those bright, adoring eyes.

you roll your eyes and tug the blindfold back down. "yes. my dork."

he was a bit surprised by you tugging down the blindfold but could only smile like an idiot. that's all he was. he was just a big idiot when it came to you. "good. all yours~" he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

you hum. "you know, i never see you kissing nanami's forehead. . ."

he snorted. "i never kiss anyone's forehead. except for yours." he hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. he really was just trying to kiss any part of you he could.

"alright, lover boy, that's enough." you smile and push him away gently.

he pouts and tugs you back against his chest. "come on, just one more. please?"

you shake your head which causes him to whine and pull you closer, your thigh sliding between his and you feel him. all of him.

"i need you." he murmured into your ear.

now, this wasn't the first time you two have gotten a little handsy. working as a sorcerer, you don't have much time for relationships, but that doesn't mean you can just stop being horny. so, just as satoru was your cure for that, you were his. and you couldn't just leave him like this.

"i didn't even do anything, satoru-!" you're cut off by him grinding his hips down against your thigh and you feel that familiar heat pool in your stomach.

"don't need to baby, you're just so fuckin' pretty."

you have to bite back a groan at the sultry hint in his voice, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "please, angel."

you push him back against the chair, making him sit, easily sliding off his belt like it was an everyday occurrence (which it practically was from how good this man felt and sounded while he was balls deep inside of you).

his eyes are trained on you and he slides off his blindfold once more so you can look into his eyes. but what he wasn't expecting was for you to get down on your knees after sliding down his boxers to his ankles, and begin pressing kisses down the shaft of his pretty pink cock.

he has to stop the moan from escaping his lips just at mere kisses, and a large hand clamps over his mouth as your tongue swirls over his flushed tip, leaking with precum.

"so wet already." you snicker, but before you can utter out another word he bucks his hips up into your face, dick sliding down the slippery hole of your throat, making him groan loudly. "mm, i'm sorry. so so so sorry, baby. please- ngh- forgive me." he babbled out, hand coming down to gently stroke your hair as you tried to suppress your gag reflex from acting up.

you can only hum, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you began to suck him off, hands holding down his toned thighs to stop him from fucking your throat until you couldn't breathe.

his hand bundled up your hair to give him some sort of leverage so he could try (and fail) to hold himself together. that's when his eyes flicker over to the open door and he almost cums right there on the spot - you fucking knew.

"y/n, the door-" his voice is muffled by his hand, and the look in his eyes shows he's about to lose it. if nanami or yaga, or even one of the kids walked in right now-

you slowly slide him out of your mouth, swallowing his slick as you respond. "then be a good boy and be quiet, sweetheart."

he whines at your words. you knew how vocal he could be, especially when you sucked him off - nothing but loud groans and praises, practically begging for you to let him cum in your pussy next or he "might just die."

for someone known as the strongest, he didn't act like it the second his dick came into the picture.

he watches intently as your candied lips slide over his length, cheeks hollowed out, making room for him just because he got hard after kissing your face.

he's entranced by the way only his tip stays in your mouth when you pull up, then sink back down around him in a heap, and he's biting his shirt just to shut himself up (not that it was doing him any favors). you could still hear his pretty groans as his head rolls back, hips faintly stuttering up into your mouth as he tried to close that space and feel your tight little throat around him again.

"fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his hand begins to guide you, pushing you down and slowly lifting you back up easily. he can feel your throat spasming every time you take him in fully, little white hairs tickling your nose before you're back up to just his tip.

you blink up at him and god is this view ethereal. brows knit together, long white lashes fluttering ever so slightly at each thrust, his uniform wettened by his mouth as he moans into it, saying your name like some sort of prayer. you feel just how wet your panties are, and you know you're gonna ask those long fingers to do you a favor later.

"'m gonna cum," the shirt falls from his mouth as he warns you, but you just hum some more, and you know that's what set him off as he lets out the most pornographic moan and keeps you at your pace to ride off his orgasm, and you're sure every person in the school could hear it. creamy white liquid just filling your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it just keeps coming.

and your thoughts are only confirmed when nanami's voice comes from down the hallway and you almost choke on his load. "gojo?"

[lulunothulu]

There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This is normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

To clarify,I don't believe in porn makes you evil and I don't believe in like fantasies are evil. I'm pulling this quote off Scarleteen "“If we aren’t both careful and creative we can get stuck in fantasies that don’t mature and politicize with us."" I'm also new to being about to vote, so I'm trying to be careful about what I consume and what stereotypes media perpetuate. Like I'm not moralizing about kink or anything, and my ask was how can I get aroused with media wo my kinks or wo media

hi anon, welcome back! I'm genuinely very glad to hear some follow up.

for anybody who doesn't stay vigorously up to date with all of my anons, this ask is a continuation of this one.

so I went and checked out the Scarleteen articles you mentioned in your first message, or at least I tried to. How to Approach Sexual Fantasies and Desire on Your Own Terms is here, and while I couldn't find anything with the exact title 50 Shades of Abuse, we do have 50 Shades of BS - How to Tell the Difference Between Kink and Abuse as well as 50 Shades Crappier: On Selling Abuse for Valentine's Day, both of which cover how the 50 Shades series isn't a great model of real, responsibly-practiced BDSM.

now, here's what I didn't see in any of these articles: an assertion that anybody needs to, as you've decided to do, avoid any work that depicts anything less than perfectly healthy sexual practices.

the closest we get to that is the quote by adrienne maree brown from How to Approach Sexual Fantasies, which you mention above. now, here's the thing: first of all, I actually disagree pretty substantially with brown's assertions that one's sexual fantasies need to "politicize." I know what my politics are; the fiction that I enjoy can't change that, because I don't have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. I actually just talked about that earlier today in another ask.

(also, and this may be an unpopular opinion, but adrienne maree brown is kind of a dork who doesn't really say much of anything in Pleasure Activism that Audre Lorde didn't already say better and more succinctly, and I personally lost interest in Pleasure Activism pretty much the moment she casually dropped that she practices reiki healing because that's a pseudoscientific alternative medicine that doesn't do shit or fuck. but I digress.)

listen, I'm not trying to peer pressure or bully you into watching anything you don't want to watch. your porn consumption is up to you. but what you're doing here is absolutely moralizing, I think maybe because of an underlying assumption that media that involves sex is just, like, innately different than any other type of media, which is in itself an idea that stems from sex negativity!

I don't know, let's just try to play out a little thought exercise here. like, would you consider it reasonable if somebody told you that they've decided not to read or watch anything that depicts problematic behavior because they don't want to normalize it. like, first of all, they're never watching anything but Bluey again. except actually not even Bluey because I just remembered about Bluey in the genocide, which actually makes for a great illustration of how nonsensical and impossible it is to try to only engage with media that is 100% ideologically pure.

and again: that's fine! that's literally fine! it is 100% okay to watch or read or play things with morals that don't totally 100% align with yours. it's okay to enjoy them, even. it's a lot healthier than trying to avoid upsetting or incongruous things entirely, because that gives you the chance to actually think about it rather than trying to shut it out entirely! that article actually provides an entire list of questions you can run through with yourself to critically analyze the things you watch if you feel so inclined! that's a much better skill to practice than avoidance!

I get that when you're new to sex, as you said in the previous ask, this might seem daunting, but your brain isn't just a sponge that will uncritically soak up and adopt anything you expose it to. you very clearly have the ability to research, differentiate between fiction and real life, and form your own opinions! and it is absolutely fine if you want to just watch porn with your kinks!

like, listen, I see what the question is, and the easiest answer is just. do whatever gets you off.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

I'm just getting too excited reading the snippets

Thank you! Damn 186 for 🦷:

---

“Dad, can I tell you something?” Chris asks, with a little sigh, like he’s having to break something very simply down to a child.

“Uh, of course, Chris.”

“I only have one day left of being smarter than you, so I should maybe give you advice.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie asks. 

“Because I still have my wisdom teeth,” Chris explains.

Right, Eddie. Keep up. 

“That’s true,” Eddie mumbles. “It’s all downhill after today. Your brain will turn to mush.”

Chris rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just saying,” Chris presses. “I’m more wise than you still. So listen to me.”

There’s something really serious in his tone, so Eddie stops joking. 

“Okay,” he says. 

“The first person you said who made you feel comforted was Buck. Twice. That means something, Dad. I think you’re used to feeling bad and you don’t know how to do things that make you feel good.”

Eddie feels like he’s been struck. Not for the first time today. 

“So, you think I should try something different, huh?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over tears just a little. 

Chris nods. “Yep. I think whatever the opposite of what Grandma and Abuelo would say is what you should do, probably.”

Well, that’s an idea. That logic carried him from El Paso to Los Angeles. Kept him here despite their pressure for him to return. That logic wrote Buck’s name in his will instead of theirs. And none of those things have been decisions that Eddie regrets. 

“That…” Eddie exhales. “That might be really good advice.”

“Because of my wisdom teeth,” Chris says.

Eddie smiles. “Yeah, buddy. Because of your wisdom teeth, for sure.”

iv.

Buck ends up coming with them to Christopher’s surgery appointment. Eddie didn’t ask. He just sort of shows up in the morning, assuming Eddie would want someone to sit with him. He’s right, of course. Eddie knows it’s just dental surgery and comes with very little risk, but Eddie absolutely wants company. Buck’s company. 

They sit side-by-side in waiting room chairs, clutching paper cups of coffee, during the surgery. They’re the only people in the room. Eddie can hear a clock ticking. There’s a television playing the news silently. Eddie’s leg is tapping.

“Hey,” Buck says gently, hand resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s going to be totally fine.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie nods. “It’s a simple procedure. That’s… That’s not why I’m nervous.”

Buck frowns. “Why are you nervous, then?”

Well, great question. Not one Eddie really wants to answer. 

“Uh…” Eddie struggles. His throat feels very dry. He takes another sip of coffee before answering. “I have… Well, I had a sort of crazy conversation with Christopher yesterday while grocery shopping.”

“This is why you shouldn’t grocery shop without me,” Buck says, kissing his teeth chidingly. “Always ends in chaos.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I can remember grocery store chaos caused by you. And uh, it was actually a good conversation.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“What was it about?” Buck asks, leading the conversation because he can see Eddie is too nervous to just do it himself. 

“Uh, a lot of things,” Eddie says. “But I ended up sort of… Well, I came out to him.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot up. He grins. “Eddie, that’s amazing! How did he take it?”

“Good,” Eddie nods. “He… Yeah, he was great.”

“Ah, man. I’m so happy to hear that. I know that was weighing on you.”

“It was,” Eddie agrees quietly.

“So, then… Why are you nervous?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Here it goes.

“Well, Chris is a smart kid, you know?”

“Of course,” Buck replies, still confused. 

“It didn’t take him very long to ask if this meant I’m in love with you.”

Buck’s expression goes completely still. His eyes get big. Wide. Anxious. 

“Uh, wh-what… What did you tell him?” Buck stammers. 

“That I do,” Eddie whispers. His eyes flicker to the floor. He almost doesn’t want to see Buck’s reaction. 

“Oh,” Buck exhales. “And, uh… He-he was okay with that?”

Eddie nods. “Pretty much told me not to be stupid and do something about it.”

“Is that what this is?” Buck asks. 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “Not enough for you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to be given roses or something,” Buck smirks. “A string of pearls even.”

“Well, we’re in the waiting room of a dental surgery clinic. So I can offer you…” Eddie looks around the room. “An issue of USA Today from four months ago.”

“I’ve always wanted that,” Buck says. “I just need to know about Ben and Jennifer. Do you think they’re going to make it this time?”

“I have bad news,” Eddie tells him.

Buck smiles. His eyes crinkle a little. Eddie’s not sure if they did that, back when they met. Eddie thinks, somehow, he just keeps getting more and more beautiful with every year that he knows him. He’s sitting right beside him now, all loose curls and twinkling eyes. And Eddie realizes he’s so fucking lucky. Because as nervous as he is right now, he’s not uncertain. He knows. He knows this beautiful, kind, unbelievably generous, and not nearly as funny as he thinks man loves him back. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re nervous,” Buck says softly. “Eddie, you have to know…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly. 

“I love you, too,” Buck says. “Like… Obviously.”

Eddie smiles. “I thought so… I just…” 

“What?” Buck asks gently. 

Fuck. Eddie doesn’t really know how to explain. 

“My son sort of psychoanalyzed me,” Eddie blurts. “And, uh… And the conclusion was… He thinks maybe I don’t make decisions that are good for me because I’m used to feeling bad.”

Buck’s jaw drops. “Chris said that?”

“Yeah, I think my parents kind of messed him up in a different way from what I did.” Eddie admits. 

“He’s not messed up, Eddie. Just hurt. That’s all.”

“See?” Eddie says. “See, it’s that. He’s right. It’s like my brain is sort of wired for guilt, and… And I don’t want it to be. I just, I’m scared I’ll screw it up with you, too.”

Buck nods, thinking. He takes a good moment to contemplate.

“Okay,” he eventually sighs. “Okay, well then I won’t let you.”

Eddie sighs. “What?”

“Yeah, I just won’t,” Buck presses. “I’m good at that. I think Bobby and I are the only people you listen to.”

Because they’re the only people close enough to Eddie to know what he wants and have his best interest at heart. They always have. 

“Buck, it’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” Buck replies, turning in the seat a little so his knees are pressing into Eddie. “I-I know you, Eddie. You wouldn’t have brought this up at all if you didn’t want me to talk you into it.”

Eddie opens his mouth to object. That’s just… 

Okay, it’s completely true. He does that, doesn’t he? Waits until he’s ready for Buck to give him permission to do right by himself. He always has. 

Wow.

“We know each other better than anyone,” Buck says. “We won’t let each other be idiots.”

And that’s… Well, that’s true, too. Eddie has always been able to talk Buck down from letting things get out of hand. From spiraling. From making every problem on earth his problem. So… So maybe Buck is right. 

“Promise?” Eddie asks. 

Buck grabs his hand. “I promise.”

[fireflyinks]

you and hamzah on a planned date he suprised you with! you can make it sfw or not doesn’t matter just thought it would be a cute idea

pinterest worthy picnics

hamzahthefantastic x reader fluff

a/n : IT'S FALL!!!! I hope you guys like this even though it's a little short, hamzah take me on a picnic PLEASE

contains : no cursing, no y/n, just fluff, a date, established relationship, major fall vibes

Hamzah had always had trouble making plans for the two of us. Oftentimes, I would have to plan the dates, just because Hamzah was oblivious on how to approach the situation. Honestly, I knew he would rather sit at home, order take out, and watch a movie with me, but deep down he could tell I craved more.

“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if he even cares, you know?” He heard me say one night, on the phone with Mandy when I thought he was too engrossed in the video game he was playing to listen.

“I just wish for once he would plan something out instead of just letting me do it. I wanna be surprised for once.”

And after hearing me say that, Hamzah knew he had to step his game up. 

“Hamzah, this is genuinely terrifying.” I squealed, holding onto the car door handle tightly as Hamzah drove. He had made me wear a blindfold, saying that I’d make the surprise more romantic.

“We’re almost there…” He replied, and I could tell by his tone that he was either nervous or excited. Maybe even both.

Hamzah anxiously took in the surroundings as he drove, the late October leaves spinning in the air, creating an orange and yellow atmosphere. His plan was simple, but he hoped that you wouldn’t mind. Sometimes the simplest things in life are the best, right?

“We’re here…” Hamzah dragged out with his voice, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his car door. He walked over to my side, opening my door and peeling the blindfold from my face gently. 

I looked around, realizing we were at the local park. 

“What are we doing here?” 

Hamzah smiled, shyly. “I thought we could have a picnic.”

A blush spread across my face. This was extremely out of character for him. Well, not wanting to spend time with me, but taking initiative to plan how we would hang out. 

I climbed out of the car, watching as he grabbed a flannel blanket and a pizza box from the trunk, along with other containers.

“You really took the time to do all of this?” 

“Of course I did.” He said, almost immediately. 

We walked through the park, trying to find a good place to set up. After a minute of walking, we found a nice spot under a tree, and I watched as Hamzah laid everything out, taking extreme care to put everything in a good spot. I could tell he really wanted this to be perfect. 

“Is this giving Pinterest?” He asked, trying to seem as if he was joking but I could tell he hoped his set up was aesthetically pleasing. I giggled, nodding and sitting across from him on the blanket. Hamzah took everything out of the containers, and revealed that he had even melted chocolate to dip strawberries into. 

“So you really just did this unprompted? Like, this was completely your idea?” I asked, clearly still unconvinced. 

Hamzah looked up at me, dropping his shoulders. 

“Okay, I may have heard you talking to Mandy on the phone the other night, and it made me realize that I don’t do stuff like this for you enough. So, no, I guess not, but I still hope you like it. 

I quickly shook my head. “No, babe I promise you do plenty for me. It was just in the heat of the moment.” 

“No, I really don’t. I know I can seem like I don’t care sometimes, or like I don’t actually want to do things with you, but I swear I do. I’m just not good at expressing that.” 

“I know…” I smiled, speaking faintly. 

He dipped a strawberry into the chocolate, taking it into his mouth. I did the same. 

Hamzah reached over, smearing the chocolate that had gotten on my lip off with his thumb. He smiled softly, kissing me slowly. 

After pulling away, we sat and ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying the peacefulness that surrounded us. 

“I’ll have to complain to Mandy more often if this is what I get in return.” I joked, causing Hamzah to laugh. 

“You won’t have to, I have plenty more date ideas. I actually went down a rabbit hole the other night and we might be skydiving together in the near future.” 

I rolled my eyes, “You’d have to drag me onto that helicopter.” 

“Trust that I will.” 

I giggled, “I think I’ll be alright with the Pinterest-worthy picnics for now.” 

Hamzah smiled, pecking my lips with his chocolate covered ones.

[deep-hearts-core]

The Competitive Barbershop Music Explainer, and Why More of Tumblr Should Be Obsessed With It.

I've been threatening this for now almost a year, so here it is. You probably have an idea in your head of what a barbershop quartet is: maybe you’ve seen The Music Man, or possibly the Louie Zong Hatsune Miku song. But barbershop exists as a hobby these days, too, and there are parts of it that are deeply cool and nerdy. Some of you--gasp--might actually enjoy it. 

What the hell is barbershop music?

Barbershop music got its name from the Black barbershop social space out of which it evolved. In the early 20th century, groups of guys would get together and harmonize as a way to pass the time. The style later got appropriated into white culture (I’m going to come back to this, keep reading) and evolved into what most people think of when they hear the phrase “barbershop quartet”. 

Barbershop got a lot less popular after the 1960s or so, but it’s not gone! Today, it’s overseen primarily by the Barbershop Harmony Society (formerly the Society and Preservation for Barbershop Quartet Singing in America, but… that’s long…), which organizes contests and codifies the “rules” of what barbershop is and how it’s different from other a cappella. Those rules are mostly music theory stuff, which I won’t go into here for fear of boring people, but if anyone is curious my askbox is open :D 

It’s not just quartets, either. There are also choruses that sing in the same four-part style, following the same music rules as the quartets, and they compete too. This is how I got involved.

Why is Tumblr supposed to enjoy this?

Reason #1: The competition. I’ve been on Tumblr for several years, and do you know what we love? Ranking things, picking favorites, and watching talented people do their thing. It’s actually kind of similar to Eurovision--there’s a jury and a points system, and people get mad about it every year; there’s a qualifying round and a nerve-wracking calloff; it’s even international! BHS operates in the US and Canada, and most competing groups are from here, but there are sizable scenes in the UK, Sweden, Australia, and Aotearoa, as well as smaller organizations across Western Europe and beyond. The Japanese organization held its first ever competition this year! Regional contests happen all over once or twice a year, culminating in the international competition the first week of July, where quartets and choruses battle it out to be the best of the best. People have favorite groups and try to guess where people are going to place each year. If you’re me, you can even do the Eurovision fan thing and overanalyze the running order. 

Reason #2: The talent. Listen, many of these people are incredibly talented singers. Take The Clementones from Denmark, for example, who delivered amazing Addams Family character work this year. Or Smoke Ring, the New York City-based quartet trying to singlehandedly make barbershop sexy again. I could give you so many examples of singers who can hold long notes forever and ever, but I’ll show restraint and only link two: Vocal Spectrum and Midtown. And of course I have to link this fucking amazing Hunchback of Notre Dame medley. Many singers also arrange songs specifically for their own groups. If you’re a music nerd in any way, this is for you.

Also, if you enjoy niche subcultures or #hobbydrama, there’s so much to rotate in your brain. This is part of what hooked me initially. 

But it's racist/culturally appropriated!

Well, you’re not wrong… but so are a lot of things. Bear with me for a second. I'm not going to come out and blindly defend the history and say oh there's nothing wrong with the organization we can't blame them. The organization was segregated for a long time. Women were only allowed to join as full members in 2018. The Black origins of barbershop singing were actively obscured by SPEBSQSA for decades and have only recently become well-known to most members. Hell, when the BHS went co-ed a splinter organization formed to try and keep the hobby all-male. There is bad history.

BUT. People are trying. There's a sizable contingent of young queer people who do well and become well-connected within BHS--including Smoke Ring, who I linked above. They’re causing a nonzero amount of controversy and are visibly queer and something new and unapologetic about that. More and more nonwhite people are joining and finding success competitively. Academics on the subject actively spread the history that barbershop is a Black genre, and this is increasingly common knowledge especially among young barbershoppers. The most successful barbershoppers in Aotearoa (BHNZ) are predominantly Māori and Pasifika. The BHS board, while they do not have any real understanding about how to execute this at all, does at least want to reckon with the history and is, in theory, trying. For all its many, many faults, there are good people here who are making change.

Ok fine, you've got me. Now what?

Go click on all the links in this post and then let the YouTube algorithm do its work. Also, send me asks! I can go on about this shit forever and ever.

Here are some more suggestions for you:

the chorus performance that first got me interested

Panic! at the Disco but it’s barbershop

these guys also do Spiderman! 

girls who will step on you and you will like it

the air raid warden song from that one tumblr post

air raid warden guys sing about ducks

totally not never gonna give you up. what? what are you talking about?

the first ssaa group to medal in bhs have since changed their lineup but this performance reigns eternal

And if you like to sing, see if there's a chorus (click here for SSAA only) or chapter nearby. I won't get preachy and say you'll have a great experience no matter what. Sometimes people suck; I have the luck to live in a major city on the East Coast and I can say with reasonable confidence that not everyone is going to be as chill as my people are. However, this is such a small space that everyone will be excited about a new person coming in and will likely give you a little leeway. 

I've only been doing this for a year and a half, but I can easily say that I love it and it's changed me. So, even if you scrolled to the bottom of this post rolling your eyes because I should just shut up about this already, thanks for listening. <3

[pzdragon666]

Wavewave week Day 4 - Friendships

Friendship

Tf fic

Ft. Soundwave, Shockwave, Illusion, Megatron

-

Soundwave was known to be very shy whenever he'd suddenly fall in love with someone.

Even back in the pits...

It was the same cycle.

And as always, he needed help this time. With Shockwave...

"/I don't need help./" Soundwave protested.

Both Megatron and Illusion were pushing him to Shockwave's lab, ignoring his complaints.

"Soundwave, every time you have a crush, you always back out and not interact with them. I expected you to be much braver than this." Megatron said.

"《And you literally have a breakdown whenever some other older bots got what you wanted, and this time, we're helping your hopeless aft》" Illusion types the code onto the panel.

As soon as the door opens, the door immediately closes.

Both turned to Soundwave.

"Soundwave." Megatron warned.

"/I'm not talking to him!/" He yelled.

Megatron rubbed his temples as Illusion sighed.

"《It's not so hard! It's fucking Shockwave! He's like- the most nonemotional guy in the face of Cybertron. If he doesn't like you, he'd be straightforward about it》"

Soundwave slumped as she said that.

Megatron hits her helm.

"Don't listen to her. I'm sure he likes you. Trust me, he talks about you a lot." Megatron said.

Soundwave looked torwards the door, feeling a small twinge of hope settke in his spark.

"/Alright, I'll do it. Wish me luck/" With that, he turned around and entered the lab.

"《Can we kill Shockwave if he rejects him?》" Illusion asked her brother.

Megatron shook his helm.

-

Soundwave entered the lab, seeing all sorts of experiments around. He then noticed Shockwave working on something.

He quietly strolls forward.

"/Shockwave./"

He turned around.

"Soundwave. I believe you have something to tell me." He spoke.

Soundwave's visor brightens as he said that.

"/Shockwave: knows why I'm here?/"

Shockwave nodded.

"I got an alert someone trying to enter my lab. I accessed the cameras outside and hears your conversation with our lord and weapon specialist."

Soundwave gulps.

"/what does Shockwave think...?/" He asked, bracing himself for the answer.

"I must say, I did not expect one of my superior officers to reciprocate my own feelings." He said.

Shockwave took his servo, lovking theirs together.

"I would like to get to know you more." Shockwave's finials moved eagerly.

"/Soundwave: looking forward to it/" He squeezed his servo.

-

Both siblings were trying to listen in on their conversation, which was hard.

"《Think he actually did it?》" She asked.

Megatron shrugged.

"Well- he's not running out like usual. Maybe he did it." Megatron said.

"《Good for him.》" She said.

"....Illusion."

"《What?》"

"Get off my shoulders."

-

@chamm0y @kyamo18 @mr-playlist @splashscreenofficial @kiyuu-draws @radiatwave @robomusical @bumblecow @lanth57

[ok555ficideas]

Okay, I'm on the roll with Neil's bounds with his friends so I should add Kevin to the mix as well.

(Neil has amnesia here)

When he entered the court he saw Kevin firing the set up balls in the direction of the goal. Every single one of them landed in the same exact spot. 

Before he even decided to speak he heard himself saying. “I want that.”

Kevin turned around and looked at him. “Abby let you practice?”

Neil nodded and Kevin made his way to him. “You have to take it easy. No trying to overdo yourself or you’ll be useless in July.”

Neil rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a waste of space.” He said with a wave of his hand. 

Kevin tilted his head at him in confusion. “I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you meant. Don’t worry, I know how you think of me. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to practice, so let’s get to it.”

Kevin let out a frustrated sigh at that. “I hate this.” Neil looked confused so he continued. “I hate that you don’t remember.”

“Listen, I know that not remembering all the drills is an inconvenience to you, believe me I hate it too, but I’m going to learn them again. I did once before so it will probably be easier the second time around. Now quit your whining and actually help me remember them instead of just standing there and b*tching like the drama queen that you are.” 

Neil was prepared for Kevin to yell at him, to throw him out of the court or even threaten him with throwing him out the team all together. What he wasn’t prepared for was the sad expression he saw when Kevin looked at him. It was disorientating. Kevin looked like he was about to cry and Neil didn’t know what to do with that sight. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Kevin said slowly with a slightly strained voice. “I hate that you don't remember me.”

That confused Neil even more. “I do remember you.” He said slowly.

Kevin let out a frustrated sigh. “No,” he said, “you don’t, not really. You remember me as this exy-obsessed a$$hole.”

Neil raised his brow at that and Kevin continued. “Okay, that didn’t really change, but-” He started to get even more flustered by the look of him. “So are you!” He said pointing an accusatory finger at Neil. “We both are, that’s our thing, you know. We are asholes and we love exy and-” He trailed off.

They stood in silence for a minute, before Neil managed to gather his thoughts and say something that sounded ridiculous, but seemed like the only reasonable explanation. “Kevin, are we,” he said slowly, not believing that he was going to actually say the next word out loud, “friends?”

Kevin looked at him and practically screamed the next word with triumph. “Yes!” 

“Huh, that’s-” It was Neil’s turn to be a little frustrated. 

He tried to scratch his brain for some clues that what Kevin was saying was true.

“Every night.” He whispered after a long moment of searching. Kevin looked at him confused so he continued. “I asked you once if you would still teach me and you said ‘every night’.”

“Yes.” Kevin said, but didn’t elaborate.

“You promised to teach me even though we both thought,” Neil had to pause, because he didn’t actually know what the end of that sentence was.

“We both thought you were going to be de*d by the end of the season.” Kevin supplied the answer.

That was it. They both knew that it was pointless, but yet Kevin promised to practice with Neil every night. 

“I didn’t d*e, though.” He said with relief. 

Even though he knew that all of the things already happened and he came out of them on top, sometimes he was still scared and it was nice to remind himself that he survived. 

“You didn’t d*e and you are going to be Court.” Kevin said with such conviction Neil instantly believed him. 

Without realizing he put his hand on his cheek to the place where his skin was now burned, but he knew that for a breath time that spot was painted with a tattoo.

Kevin shook his head. “No, not his Court. He doesn’t matter, not anymore.” Hearing those words from Kevin filled him with excitement. “We are going to get everything we deserve, Neil and it’s not going to be because of him. It will be because of us.”

Neil nodded and put his hand down. He smiled at Kevin and gripped his racket with determination. “Then you better start teaching me those drills again.”

“You are going to pick them up in no time. Your body remembers way more than your mind does.”

That was true, but Neil wasn’t sure how Kevin knew that.

Kevin looked at him and his next words filled Neil with anger. “You pick Andrew to shreds with your words, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are more relaxed with him in the room than any other time.”

“F*ck off” Neil gritted through his teeth and went to warn himself up accompanied by Kevin’s quiet laughter. 

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[ameliemaaaee]

The Silent Witness - Oneshot Series

(2) How you Become an Agent

Chapter Information Summary: With a sudden career change underway you find yourself enraveled in a case that's more than personal for the BAU. Content Warnings: S6/7 Spoilers, Doyle Arc Spoilers, Canon Violence/Gore, Awkward!Reader & Spencer, Betraya/Lies. Word Count: 9,504.

Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)

You were extremely glad the long day was coming to an end. The lab-techs were arriving to clean the morgue for the evening, and you were ready to happily retire to your apartment for the night, where you would remain on-call until the morning.

You quickly bustled around your small desk, your body on autopilot as you cleaned up the files and packed up your belongings.

You were pulled out of your reverie by the shrill ringing of your telephone. You began to irrationally panic, dropping the stack of files onto your chair as quickly as possible, not wanting to keep the caller waiting.

Once you finally had free hands and lifted the receiver you were met with a familiar voice you couldn’t help smiling at.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Agent Hotchner from the BAU.” You couldn’t help but smile at the vaguely familiar voice.

“Yes, to what do I owe the pleasure, agent?”

“I actually have a couple questions. I need a consult.”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem... fire away!”

“We have an agent who is in some trouble at the moment…” You hum down the receiver to indicate to Hotch you were listening.

“… she’s being transferred into WITSEC, but in order for that transition to raise no questions, she needs to ‘die’.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say, your tone taking an even and professional edge.

“She was seriously injured in an encounter with an UnSub, and sent to hospital, where she was then airlifted to another and stabilised. I can’t disclose much more, but I was wondering if a post-mortem report would be necessary?”

“Okay, well most hospitals conduct post-mortems on their patients if they die in their care. And these are supposed to be easily accessible to the friends and family of the deceased. So, I would say that if you’re trying to cover all bases it would be a necessary move.”

“How would I go about that?” You twirl your hair around your finger, deep in thought.

“If you email me over her patient file, I can sign off on a PM report for you? I’m obviously totally excluded from this case, and you would need her consent to share the files, but I’m totally covered legally for that type of thing.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not. Not if it lifts a weight off your shoulders, plus I can do PM reports in my sleep.”

You hear Agent Hotchner chuckle through the phone at this.

“That would be greatly appreciated doctor.”

“Yeah, as I said just send me over…”

“-Actually, I had one last thing to ask.” He continues, piquing your interest.

“Okay-”

“We had an increase in budget this year that would allow us to hire an extra agent. I have been in contact with my higher-ups who are currently in the process of trying to bring forensic medical professionals into the bureau, and they are currently finishing up a state-of-the-art mortuary facility on the academy grounds.”

You pause, absorbing all the information agent Hotchner was relaying too you, trying to process what he meant by all of this, and you couldn’t help but feel the excitement swell in your heart as you got your hopes up.

“The brass was obviously aware of you, and how highly I spoke of you on our return, and they requested that I reach out and ask you personally if you would be willing to consider a position. Now, I’m aware that it’s a big ask and that it would require a trans-Atlantic mo-“

“-Absolutely, I would absolutely consider it.” You can’t hide the excitement in your voice as you cut the agent off.

“-That’s great, I’m currently in the process of trying to negotiate a forensic professional to our team, who would be essential in commencing the work of the forensic pathology department, before stepping back into a role primarily within the BAU; and they said yes, we are just working out some of the finer details.”

“Hotch, do you happen to remember what I said in the café that day?” You heard him laugh.

“Yes.”

“This means, a lot to me. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, I think you would be perfectly suited here.”

You try to contain your joy as Agent Hotchner takes a slight pause.

“I have a meeting later, I will keep you updated, but be prepared; this position will open up fairly quickly. I will also forward you the information regarding our agent.”

“That’s great, I will get all of that sorted for you tomorrow. Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks… really, this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” His laugh emanates through the phone again as you smile widely.

“It’s no problem, doctor. Have a good night.”

“And you.”

As you place the phone back down in its cradle you can’t help but jump up and down as a sense of overwhelming joy overtakes you.

The rush of adrenaline allows you to tidy your desk in record time and soon you find yourself slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking out onto the crowded streets of London, striding to the nearest Tube Station a bright, smile on your face that was here to stay.

-

Hotch wasn’t lying when he said the position would open up quickly, within a month you were officially an American citizen, and a federal agent in training about to begin your first day…. Well, half-day.

Nothing would ever come close to describing the anxiousness you felt gazing up at the looming foyer of the FBI Academy in which the BAU was based.

Butterflies swam through your stomach as you proceeded up the steps and towards the main doors where an FBI crest was flaunted above the doors inscribed with ‘Fidelity, Integrity, Bravery.” The words somehow calmed you. These people were the best of the best, and so were you, just maybe not at hand-to-hand combat.

Hotch had quickly made you aware that the unit was in a transitional period due to both, a major investigation, and the aforementioned ‘death’ of an agent. This meant, he would not be able to greet you, and instead he would be sending Garcia, a familiar face.

And as you made your way through the sliding glass doors, she quickly bustled up to you engulfing you in her arms; a hug you couldn’t help but find comforting. You were in slightly over your head; a new country, a new job, and what you hoped would be a new group of friends.

Garcia practically dragged you towards a front desk to retrieve a visitor pass and then towards a set of elevators.

“I’m so glad you’re here you know?”

“I’m glad to be here.”

“The whole team loved you in London.”

You grin at this, quickly snapping back to attention as the elevator doors slide open onto the sixth floor. You had little time to process this however as Penelope quickly grabbed your hand and dragged you towards glass doors that were inscribed with the initials ‘BAU’. If you weren’t nervous before, you were now.

“I should let you know that we are in a state of eternal chaos right now. I’m pretty sure Hotch hasn’t even had the chance to tell the team you are coming yet.” Garcia pushes open the doors and leads you through into a large open area.

The main floor of the BAU was carpeted, and spacious L-shaped desks created a sort of bullpen. Each desk had a unique personality that you couldn’t help noting. A raised platform ran along the back of the room housing offices and to the far left, what looked like a conference room.

The space was surprisingly welcoming for an office, and you slowly scanned the room, unable to spot any familiar faces before you were being dragged towards a corridor.

“This is my bat-cave.” Garcia has a proud look on her face as she walks into a large computer room littered with monitors, and a large wall-high computer unit sat behind glass on the other wall.

“Wait- this is amazing! Did you program it all?” You whisper as you trail your finger across the trinket-covered desk, noting the operating system was like no other you had ever seen.

“I did indeed.” You grin as you turn to face her, prying your eyes away from the impressive computers.

“Okay, the team will be here in about 10 minutes, in the meantime I have a PowerPoint.”

“A PowerPoint?”

“Yes, it’s the best way to deliver information.” You laugh shyly, shrugging your shoulders as she fiddles with her computer for a second before dragging you across the ramp, and towards the aforementioned conference room, pointing out offices as she went.

“This is Hotch’s office, he never leaves it unless he’s forced to. This is Rossi’s office, He has expensive renaissance art, and Morgan’s office is back there, he’s hot.” You can’t help but laugh at their dynamic which had stuck out to you in London, but it clearly wasn’t a one-off occurrence.

“…and this, my friend, is the round table room.” You quickly get ushered into one of the comfortable desk chairs as the screen lights up, Garcia standing in front of it.

“This is gonna be less dramatic since you’ve met everyone already but here goes nothing I guess-“

The screen flashes with a title slide reading ‘The Behavioural Analysis Unit’ in bold lettering, the unit logo accompanying it.

“I like your font choice-“ You smile as Garcia thanks you and changes the slide.

“Ohhh yes! Meet the team. This is the best part.” You chuckle at this allowing her to continue.

“Okay, so we of course have Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner…” You try to hold back a laugh as a small photo pops up on the screen accompanying some facts.

“…he is our ‘boss man’ and he’s the dad of the team, but he’s also actually a dad; his son’s name is Jack, and I can’t really remember what age he is but he’s very sweet. He also doesn’t smile… or blink, like ever so don’t be scared that’s just him.” You find yourself wondering whether or not this PowerPoint had been run past Hotch or not.

“Okay, we have me. Fun fact, I’m fabulous. If you ever need a sneaky background check on anyone, I can do that in literally three seconds flat, and I’m also fabulous.”

“Then we have Derek -Chocolate Thunder- Morgan. I’m his baby girl, don’t steal him from me, thank you. The rest is self-explanatory… just, look at him!” You lean back in your seat rolling your eyes, but the sudden sound of a door opening grabs your attention, startling you.

“Garcia?” JJ makes her way into the room quickly spotting you sat on the chair. She laughs slightly as she notices the slideshow proudly displayed on the projector.

“Did you run this past Hotch?”

 “No-“ JJ laughs, rolling her eyes as she turns to you, offering a warm smile.

“Dr. L/N, it’s great to have you here, I’ll take you to Hotch’s office. He left the contracts in there.”

-

“Who’s that?” Morgan points towards a shadowed figure sat opposite JJ in Hotch’s office.

The team had been busy monitoring Declan and trying to come up with a plan for when Doyle resurfaced that, they had failed to remember Hotch’s brief mention of a new agent before he left for his temporary assignment in Pakistan.

“JJ’s probably talking to Strauss.” Spencer shrugs, squinting one last time at the image distorted by the half-closed blinds.

“There were whispers of a new agent-“ Rossi says, rolling his eyes at the team’s speculation, fully aware he was only furthering their curiosity. But instead, he leads them towards the conference room where Garcia is preparing case files.

“Hotch wouldn’t hire a new agent, not right now anyway, he isn’t even here.” Spencer places his satchel across the back of the chair before slumping down into it.

“Yeah, with this whole Doyle thing, it wouldn’t make sense. Plus, it’s not like anybody would willingly walk into this chaos.”

The team begin to discuss their findings amongst themselves, taking notes.

-

“Alright Y/N, you don’t have to sign the contracts for your main job until Hotch returns. For now, you just need to sign the ones admitting you into the Academy, where you will complete the physical requirements. The academics have been waived, as you will be spending your free time with us.” You nod, quickly scrawling your signature down into all the open spaces on the contract and hand the form to JJ.

“Okay, Academy starts in three days, but for now you can come and meet the team.” JJ smiles at you patting you lightly on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna do great.” You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Do the team know I’m coming?” JJ stops at the door, turning to you.

“They don’t. We are currently tracking an international terrorist who killed one of our own, and it’s pretty much a waiting game until he resurfaces. They’ve been pretty preoccupied.” You nod, solemnly at JJ.

“Thanks for the falsified PM report by the way.” She chuckles as your eyes widen.

“You know?”

“Yeah, it was a joint decision between Hotch and I to put Agent Prentiss into WITSEC, this is the tail end of her case.” You gasp as you make the connection.

“I read about it, He was vengeful at Emily for killing his son, so he attempted to murder her.” JJ nods.

“But in front of the team, you know nothing okay? As far as they are aware Emily Prentiss was killed by Ian Doyle. That’s it.”

“Got it.” You allow JJ to lead you down the hallway towards the BAU roundtable room, where you can see the team sat talking amongst themselves.

“Guys-“ JJ speaks up as she walks through the door, you follow her through standing awkwardly as the teams eyes fall on you.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice pipes up as you give him a small smile and an awkward wave, which doesn’t falter the confusion across his features.

“Hotch never got around to telling you, but Y/N is going to be our newest team member. For the moment she’s in training. But she will become an invaluable asset to this team once Hotch returns and she is assigned her true position. She will work with us whilst running then new forensic pathology department in the Bureau.” You gaze over the team attempting to process JJ’s words.

“She’s not an agent?” Derek speaks up. You are too distracted however, by Spencer who is patting the empty seat beside him.

You settle in the seat as JJ begins explaining your situation.

“Y/N is technically in the academy, she’s completing the fitness and marksmanship regime, we will provide the academic training here. Once Hotch returns, she will then hopefully be an agent, and then he will arrange her paperwork for her official position.” Morgan furrows his brows, but nods at this.

“I was remediated in the academy also.” Spencer pipes up from beside you, catching your attention.

“For what?” You quietly question, your curiosity peaking.

“Pretty much anything relating to physical strength, or capabilities. If it wasn’t inherently textbook based, I didn’t do it.” You chuckle.

“I mean, I agreed to do all the physical training.” You smile down at your lap, as Morgan laughs.

“She’s smart and athletic, pretty boy you’ve got competition.” A blush rolls over Spencer’s cheeks as the rest of the team join in a chorus of laughter. You can’t help but feel the blush rising to your own cheeks also.

“Why did you move from London?” your gaze turns to Rossi, who offers you a small smile.

“I was just interested in a change, and I was lucky enough to be able to take this opportunity.” You smiled at the group, trying your best to keep your eyes on the people, and not on your lap where they defaulted to.

“I must say, it’s a bit strange that both times we’ve met it has been over an international terrorist.” Spencer’s voice cuts through the remaining chatter and laughter, his observation creating a new rise out of the team.

“Yeah, I guess.”

-

“Do you think it’s weird?” You practically whisper as Spencer weaves you through the bullpen, towards what you were to assume would be your new desk.

“What’s weird?” He furrows his brow as he rolls out the chair, beckoning you to sit.

The desk was empty, apart from a monitor, keyboard and mouse that provided you access to various FBI databases. You weren’t one for clutter and material possessions, but you couldn’t help but recognise that the empty desk struck fear in your heart, it felt like a metaphor for your new life in Quantico.

“Me being here.” Your voice comes out a bit sadder than anticipated, each syllable laced with insecurity that would easily be picked up by a profiler.

“No, it’s not weird. In fact, I think it’s a good thing.” You feel yourself relax slightly at Spencer’s reassurance.

Reid was a sweet guy, and you were glad you had been partnered with him to learn basic profiling skills; not that you would be expected to use them, as Spencer had said, but he thought they would be good to know.

Truth be told, you were pretty sure the team had been trying their best to fill time. With the group being rather disbanded, and cases being on hold Spencer had chosen teaching you as a valid time-passing opportunity.

Pulling you out of your thoughts Spencer stood at the desk opposite, his fingers trailing over the spines of the books he had stacked high, before selecting one.

“That’s your desk?” You snapped your head up towards him as he offered you a lopsided grin and a nod.

“Yeah.” You felt a blush roll over your face, that you quickly hid by gazing down at your lap, allowing Spencer to push his chair up next to yours.

“I have an idea, that’s more interesting than reading a book.” You look up at him in confusion.

“Apparently there’s this game, called two truths and a lie?” You simply nod your head, at what sounded like a question. He seemed unsure of his own idea as he quickly continued.

“Well, in criminal profiling one of the most useful skills is to know when someone is lying. It’s obviously not one-hundred-percent fool proof, but it can dictate your next move as regards their case. And I guess it could be useful in life?” You chuckle at this, nodding your head, trying to hide your anxiousness at the prospect of having to read someone’s behaviour in front of a professional.

“I’m -uh- I’m notoriously terrible at reading people.” You feel your cheeks heat up yet again in embarrassment. Spencer’s eyes connect with yours and you quickly divert your gaze away from him.

“It’s okay, we can make it easy. I know what my tell is so I will make it more obvious for you to begin with. Just study my behaviour as best as you can and let me know if you want me to say them again.” You nod, swallowing harshly.

“Okay, I was sixteen when I got my first PhD in mathematics.” Spencer pauses, as you slowly take him in, he seems totally normal, you nod.

“I graduated high school at twelve.” You watch him again, noticing absolutely no change in his behaviour.

“I was twenty-two when I joined the BAU.” You furrow your brows, totally unsure of which was a lie, they all seemed plausible for a genius like Spencer.

“I-uhm-“ You turn your gaze to him panicking slightly as you realise, he’s looking for an answer.

“I- have no idea.” You whisper, crossing your legs up in the chair as Spencer nods.

“That’s okay, do you want to try again?” You can’t help but deflate at the idea of going through that again.

“O-okay.”

Spencer repeats the three statements again, his gaze remains fixed on you as if he’s reading your ultimate confusion.

Spencer immediately notes you perking up after the third statement.

“The first one is a lie, right?” You say, trying to hold back the grin on your face.

“How do you know?” Oh shit. You certainly couldn’t explain yourself, then he would know that you totally failed the exercise and used logic instead.

If he graduated high school at twelve, he couldn’t have had a PhD at sixteen, right? That whittles it down to a fifty-fifty chance it’s either one of them… maybe?

“Uhm, well the average PhD takes seven years to complete, five years for your masters, and then two for your dissertation. You’re pretty smart, but not super-human enough to only manage it in four years, considering you have to learn all course material and write an 80,000-word dissertation.”

You continue talking when Spencer fails to fill the silence, you failing to notice the look of shock on Spencer’s face.

“Well, I personally graduated medical school in four years, instead of five. So, I was twenty-one, and then did my two years of foundation training and it was extremely difficult to do extra-curricular research alongside full-time work, and placements. This was all despite the fact that I never found it difficult to remember the academics. I digress though, it would be virtually impossible to do a PhD in 4 years.”

Spencer swallows harshly as he chuckles.

“Yeah, I -uhm- well, you were right.” He’s still relatively speechless and you can’t help but begin to worry that you overwhelmed him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble, I just- I know it was supposed to be human behaviour, but I don’t- I couldn’t-“

“It’s okay Y/N, I just didn’t realise you were so impressive-“ Spencer’s voice has jumped an octave and he’s staring at you so intensely that you shrivel back into your chair.

“I- I mean, I’m not- I, -I just relate to you?” Spencer shifts in his chair, a squeak interrupting the silence, and causing you to jump.

“It’s o-okay, it’s nice to have-“

“Reid! L/N! Can you come into the roundtable room? We’re going to catch you up on Doyle.” JJ gestures for the pair of you to follow her, interrupting the awkward exchange between the pair of you, replacing it with a work environment that would mask you amongst others.

-

“We were in the hospital for about eight hours, that night, but she died on the table.” You hang your head slowly, nodding as Morgan’s voice wavers uncharacteristically. You had to try your best to keep the secret.

“We never got access to the post-mortem report from the hospital either, not even Garcia could find it.” Your head snaps up at this as you quickly come up with an excuse.

“Yeah, well you wouldn’t be allowed access to it without a next-of-kin’s consent. It’s likely that because her killer was still loose and was so high-profile, that they wouldn’t want to offer up any sensitive info. Her personnel file was erased right?”

“Yeah, it was.” Morgan confirms.

“Well, it’s just so they can’t get to people who are involved in her case as easily.” You place your hands on the desk in front of you as Spencer eyes you.

The rest of the team look pretty sad, Garcia is dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Spencer appears to be peeved off, but Morgan’s face is set in unadulterated frustration.

“Doyle knows us, he knows the BAU. If he wants blood, he will come for us.” You shrug slightly at this; the fact of the matter was they wouldn’t have access, even if it existed.

“I’m sorry Morgan.” You say, pursing your lips together offering him a tight smile.

“How about we just go back to-“ JJ leans forwards patting the centre of the table in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

“-yeah.” Reid jumped in, before continuing.

“We knew that after Emily’s death, Doyle would want to resurface to search for his son Declan who-

“Sorry to interrupt Reid but speaking of resurfacing-“ You can practically feel the panic emanating from the team as they all dash towards Garcia at the head of the table, leaving you behind.

You rock side to side in the swivel chair as the team all gather in the corner of the room talking over Garcia’s laptop screen.

“That’s him.”

“Can we be so sure? I mean, it’s only been a month.”

“Spencer, I- Y/N, can you come here?”

You stand making your way towards JJ who is shuffling through a folder.

“This is a photograph of Ian Doyle. Is this man from the CCTV him?” She pokes her finger towards the male in question on the laptop.

“I mean given how statistically unlikely it is for someone this remarkably similar to exist in an area being surveyed for Doyle’s presence, I would say yes that definitely is him. Especially so, considering he has no biological siblings.” JJ nods, agreeing with you.

The rest of the team straighten up, looking to each other as if to decide who gives the orders, all eyes eventually settling on Derek.

“Okay, well I think we should set up surveillance for Declan full time. He is our priority.” You nod in response, as JJ quickly grabs a pen, scrawling on the back of her case file.

“We can dispatch agents to his house to watch for suspicious activity. Spencer, Penelope, we need you to track all of Doyle’s aliases, and update us if any of them resurface, or lead you to an address. In the meantime, Morgan and I will stakeout his school, and see if he will lead us to his hideout from there. Y/N, focus on academy, it’s about to get really busy in here.” JJ Claps her hand, signalling her finish as the rest of the team hums in approval.

For once in your life the room felt alive with the determination of the team, banding together.

“Rossi is in his office reviewing cases, I’ll let him know of the break and to be on standby if we need him, and Spencer in the field.” Morgan quickly dashes past you and out the door.

After that the team quickly went their separate ways. Spencer followed Garcia into her office, and not long after Morgan resurfaced from Rossi’s office, JJ had him bustled into the elevator with little time to spare. That left you standing in the middle of the roundtable room confused, and with a day to kill before academy.

-

“Welcome to the ‘Basic Field Training’ portion of the FBI Academy. Here we will teach you Firearms, Survival Skills, Tactical and Emergency Vehicle Operations, and of course you will be completing Hogan’s Alley.”

You cross your arms, pulling against your waist, almost giving yourself a hug. You were enjoying the comfort of the FBI hoodie you had been provided with, the soft fabric seemingly dampening your anxiety. You were in a new situation, with new, unfamiliar people.

“Today, we will focus on running the single mile, and the three mile as a warm-up. We will then have you split into three groups. One team will run the obstacle course, The second will go to the shooting range, and the final group will do arrests.”

The coach seemed like a fairly nice man, he had assured you before the class that he was aware of your situation, and that Agent Hotchner had spoken very highly of you. He had also noted that you had been put into a small group of 5 trainees to assure you got plenty of attention, in case your training were to be cut short.

“Okay can the five of you line up on the track and stretch out a bit.” The group followed the SSA’s instructions, lining up at the start line.

You zoned out as you went down your body, naming each muscle in your head and stretching it out until you were satisfied that you wouldn’t injure yourself.

“Is everyone finished?”

The group let out a chorus of ‘yes sir’s, and he offered you an assuring nod.

“Good. Remember it’s not a race, you may start now. Pace yourselves and enjoy it.”

As he stepped off the track the group began moving at a pace, but you stuck towards the back of the group, saving your energy for the final few yards.

You managed to settle into the rhythm of your feet hitting against the pavement, tuning out the hum of activity coming from your other academy-mates. Your breathing was even, steady, and unwavering as you felt the rush of adrenaline overcome you that made you feel as if you could do almost anything.

When you looked up from the ground, the finish line was nearing you, and with about 150 yards left you picked up the pace, slowly making your way to the front of the group. Not in an attempt to beat them, but an attempt to prove that you belonged among these people who had to complete a fitness test to qualify, when you didn’t.

As you cross the finish line you can’t help but feel proud of yourself, you weren’t the most athletic person and a mile was an achievement, and at twelve minutes, and fifteen seconds for a mile at an easy pace you weren’t doing too bad.

“That was a good warm-up guys, now for the three mile. Again, I don’t want you to worry about this too much, because we will be completing it every day for the rest of the course, and you will get better. But as a benchmark, I would be expecting about 36-38 minutes for this. Off you go!”

And off you went again, this time you kept behind the remainder of the group, who had started off pretty quickly for what was going to be three circuits of the mile track.

As you ran you gathered your thoughts. With the Doyle case you had been practically abandoned. Spencer and Garcia were hauled up in her office, and from the glimpses of Rossi you barely saw, reviewing and consulting on cases seemed to be time-consuming work.

You had spent the remainder of yesterday reviewing some materials Spencer had dropped on your desk from the academy lectures. They were pretty self-explanatory, and anything you didn’t know was pretty simple to remember considering you would quickly jot it down, solidifying it in your mind.

By the time you had finished Spencer and Garcia had resurfaced to check on you. And even though you insisted that you were happy to stay and help them in any other ways, they had insisted you had gone home, much to your chagrin.

You had walked home to an empty, undecorated apartment. It felt pretty lonely, and you didn’t want to be there if you could avoid it. In a rush decision you had grabbed your laptop bag, and quickly walked down the street to a local diner. There you sat, scrolling through various medical journals, and hopeful articles regarding technological advancement in the forensic fields. It was at midnight that they sent you packing, in an attempt to close for the evening.

Cheers and screams pulled you back to reality as you crossed the finish line, barely acknowledging the fact you had completed your three miles.

“L/N, L/N! Stop, you did the three.” The instructor jogs over to you patting you on the shoulder, and that’s when you had the sense to turn, trying to spot the remainder of your team, who were only on the first quarter of their final mile.

“How- I’m done?”

“Yeah, you’re a speedy one. This programme will be a breeze for you, provided you can shoot.” He grins at you, and you smile back, breathing a sigh of relief. You were glad you weren’t the worst of the group.

“You’re a doctor, right?” You nod slowly, letting the SSA guide you towards the bleacher.

“Yeah, Dr. Y/N L/N. The medical kind.” He laughs at this, offering you his hand to shake.

“SSA. Jonathan Smith.” You happily take his hand, and shake it, casting your gaze to the rest of the runners who were half-way through their final mile.

“I’ve heard all about you, from Agent Hotchner of course. I was a bit sceptical when he told me you were bypassing a lot of the academy. Now that I’ve met you though, I can see why.” You grin, picking up your water bottle and taking a long gulp.

“I really want to be here, I’m just not sure I can shoot a gun.” You laugh, and he grins.

“Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here.”

Slowly the group assembles at the finish line, the few who had strayed behind catching up, and proving themselves significantly.

“Good job, our final runner finished on just over thirty-eight minutes, so you guys are spot on. Give yourselves a round of applause.” You can see all the others, grinning wide as they applaud themselves, and you can’t help it either. There was a massive sense of achievement in just completing the warm-up.

“Okay, there’s an uneven number so I will take one of you individually, and then we will have two other pairs, who will go with SSA. Alex and SSA. Jameson.” He gestures to two agents who have joined him at the front, offering you small waves at the respective mention of their names.

“L/N, you will be with me.” You make your way over to SSA Smith, as the rest of the four get sorted into their pairs, with their supervisory agent.

“I’m hoping that the individual time will be beneficial for you, and that you might learn quicker this way. Is that okay?” You nod. You were definitely grateful for Smith’s help, he had already proven to be really kind, and dedicated to your training.

“That’s great, thanks sir.”

“Oh, please just call me Jonathan.”

-

“Alright, up first we have firearms.” You grimace slightly which causes Jonathan to laugh.

“It’s not that bad, we just have some basic rules. Treat all firearms as if they are loaded, keep your finger off the trigger until you intend to press it, and never point a firearm at anyone unless you are justified.” You nod, settling into a serious mode.

“Okay, so here’s a holster, you’re going to put that on your belt.” You quickly follow his directions, placing the holster where it feels most comfortable to grab from.

“Is that comfortable? You’ve positioned it further forwards than most people.” You nod, motioning as if you were to reach from it as Jonathan hums in approval.

“Okay, if that’s good I’m going to give you your training weapon and ammunition.” You quickly accept his instruction as he shows you how to load and unload the Glock.

He quickly explains how to release the safety and shoot, and then he offers you the Glock.

“Take a few shots and see how it feels.” You guffaw at him slightly.

“Sir, I-I’ve never shot a gun in my life, I’m going to miss.”

“That’s okay, we call it training for a reason, I’ll stand behind you and help you hold it until you get used to it. I’m not expecting you to hit a target first time, you’re just getting used to it okay?” You nod, stepping up to the mark.

Jonathan, placed himself behind you, resting his hand on top of yours over the weapon to support it until you get used to the recoil.

“When you’re ready give me three shots, as close or as far apart as you wish.” You nod, adjusting your stance and then you pull the trigger.

The gunshot echoes throughout the large warehouse building and you pause, feeling the reverberation against your chest.

“You hit the target, which is great. Two more!” Your eyes scan the target, noticing he was right. To the left of the paper man’s shoulder sat a bullet hole.

In quick succession you took two more shots, more prepared for them this time, and each time you hit just outside of your target.

“That was great! Do you think you could hold it yourself?” You nod, your gaze remaining focused on the target.

You feel Jonathan step away and you prepare to focus, aligning your hand with your target, ensuring that you had foresight. And you took three more shots, this time hitting the target’s left shoulder.

“That’s great Y/N. Put the safety on and holster your weapon for me.” You quickly flip the safety, sliding the weapon into your holster and turn, unable to hold back the wide grin on your face.

“Good job Y/N, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” You shake your head quickly, still grinning like an idiot.

“-Y/N?” You both turn quickly at the sound of a voice interrupting you.

“Spencer?” You grin shyly up at the male towering over you. He was wearing goggles, and ear defenders similar to you.

“How are you? Is this academy training?” You nod at him.

“She’s never shot a gun before, and she still managed to hit the target.” Jonathan pipes up, clearly revelling in your victory. You feel your cheeks heat up.

A smile settles on Spencer’s face, as he studies the target, noticing the three hits, each getting more and more accurate.

“Good job, that’s amazing!” Spencer smiles, his gaze turning to the ground hiding a blush that rivalled your own.

“What are you doing down here, I thought you would be busy with Garcia?”

Spencer sighs, at your question, his grin dropping a bit.

“I like to come down to just blow off steam, after all that’s happened this year-“ Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you realise, he means Emily’s death. You really wished you would stop walking yourself into discussions involving her, especially considering you knew she was very much alive.

“O-oh well, I’ll let you get on with it.” You stutter quickly, trying to regain your composure.

“Y-yeah, you’ll be stopping by later, won’t you? I-I’ll see you then.” He waves and strides away in quick succession, heading straight for the door as you furrow your brows. You turn to see a grin on Jonathan’s face.

“That wasn’t Dr. Spencer Reid by any chance, was it?” You find yourself confused as you nod.

“Yeah, it was.” Jonathan’s eyes widen slightly at this.

“Isn’t he like, a genius?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t think intelligence can be accurately measured, which would mean that technically ‘genius’ doesn’t exist-“ You trail off as you realise you are rambling.

“-yeah, he’s a genius.”

-

You quickly press the button for the sixth floor, relaxing as the elevator begins to carry towards the BAU.

You were aware that you looked a mess, you were dressed in an FBI sweatsuit, and your hair was damp after your much-needed shower. Luckily for you The Obstacle Course had been your final challenge for the day and running a mile in mud whilst leaping and climbing various obstacles left you yearning the sensation of hot water against stiff muscles.

You felt as though you could sleep, but it was still only three o’ clock and you didn’t want to leave until at least six; it felt mean to go home when the rest of the team would still be stuck in the office.

The elevator dings, pulling you out of your thoughts. Quickly you slung your gym bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the double-glass doors that had seemed so intimidating yesterday.

Your nerves hadn’t exactly worn off, yet, but you certainly felt more relaxed. It was more the people that made you feel anxious than the actual job. You had so many team members, and you wanted to be friends with all of them, but you were perpetually awkward and even the interactions you had with Spencer ended in you both being obscenely flustered.

“Y/N, Hi!” Garcia perks up as you enter the BAU doors, clattering towards you on her heels to engulf you in a warm hug. Though you weren’t one for physical contact, it was weirdly exactly what you needed, and you felt yourself relax in her arms.

“Don’t strangle her Garcia.” You jump slightly at the second voice coming from behind you and you turn to see Agent Rossi, grinning over a cup of coffee. Garcia releases you and you turn to face him, giving him a quick wave.

“You had academy I assume?” You nod quickly, as he takes in your attire.

“U-uhm yes sir.”

He chuckles at your formalities.

“Rossi is fine.” You nod, walking towards the coffee machine and searching for a mug.

“I keep a spare one, you can use that.” You hear Spencer’s voice echo from your left, and you jump yet again.

“You’re a jumpy one doctor.” Garcia grins as you straighten. She taps you affectionately on your nose which makes you jump again, but this time you bang your head against an overhead cabinet.

You gasp on impact, clutching the back of your head as Garcia takes a step back apologising profusely.

Spencer on the other hand rushes towards you, placing his hand over the hand you were using to cradle your head, and another on your shoulder. He slowly walks backwards, guiding you towards the break room table and sits you down.

“Are you okay?” You chuckle lightly, trying to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…. jumpy?” Spencer grins at this. He drops his hand, making his way towards a fridge-freezer.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to, I-“ You take in the frantic woman who sits opposite you.

“Garcia, it’s fine… seriously. It’s just a bump.” Spencer promptly returns to your side and sits in the chair beside you. In his outstretched hand is an icepack wrapped in a kitchen towel, which you gratefully accept.

Garcia’s phone startles you out of your silent reverie, as she receives a notification. Quickly she bustles away, obviously going to take care of it.

-

“Okay, we have an address for Doyle, can you guys hear me, okay?!” Garcia talks loudly down her office phone as Rossi, Spencer, and yourself stand beside her, reading the screens over her shoulder.

Garcia reems off the address as you stare off into space, JJ’s voices quickly pulling you back to reality.

“Morgan and I are headed there now, I’ve called Hotch. Spencer, Rossi, I need you both to go to Declan’s house. I know he went home from school early, but considering how dangerous this takedown is, we want him in FBI custody in case he gets away and flees with the child.”

The phone quickly hangs up after that.

Garcia Rossi and Spencer get up, quickly making their way to the door. Spencer, however, pauses turning towards you as you cluelessly follow him.

“We’re probably going to be here all night; you can stay if you want? If not, go home and get some rest.” You watch as Spencer bounces on the balls of his feet, he quickly gestures for you to walk with him.

“I’m tired but I think I will stay, maybe I can be useful?” Spencer smiles, nodding at you.

“Tell you what, go into Hotch’s office, there’s a pull-out sofa in there. Sleep for a few hours and I can wake you if anything interesting happens?” He quickly jogs towards the elevator, meeting Rossi inside.

“I’ll call Garcia and tell her to let you into the office.” You quickly nod, furrowing your brows as the elevator door shuts.

You turn towards the clattering of heels to your right.

“Spencer texted me, he said you needed to sleep and to help you with the pull-out bed in Hotch’s office?” You smile, nodding at Garcia.

You weren’t too happy with the concept of sleeping whilst everyone else was out risking their lives. However, as soon as Spencer had mentioned the word sleep you had felt a deep desire to curl up in a corner somewhere and doze. The academy had taken a lot out of you, and you were feeling the consequences.

Garcia however, acted like people sleeping in Hotch’s office was a regular thing and she very happily grabbed a blanket and pillows from the cupboard, handing them to you as she unlocked Hotch’s office, making a beeline for the sofa.

“This thing is so handy you know? If anyone’s ever tired on long cases where they have some free time, but not enough to go home, there’s fights over it. Every office in here has one actually.” You stifle a yawn, watching as Penelope quickly unfolds the sofa out into a decent sized double bed.

“Okay, that should be all good. I’ll leave you too it, you can close those blinds or leave them open if you feel more comfortable, and the light switch is just over there.

“Thanks Garcia.” You yawn for real this time, placing the pillows down on the bed and smiling as she waves at you through the window, before disappearing back into her office.

You relish in the silence as you dawdle around the office still holding one pillow in your left arm, hugging it tightly to your chest.

You close the blinds and flick the lights off, sighing as the room settles into darkness. You absolutely needed a nap, and you were glad you had taken the opportunity. It was nearing eight o’clock and after the day being so busy you just needed a reset.

So, you took your blanket and curled up on the sofa bed, hugging your pillow tightly to your chest as you dazed off into a deep slumber.

-

You stir in your sleep as the door to Hotch’s office opens, allowing the bustle of the BAU bullpen to overtake what was the peace-and-quiet of Hotch’s office.

As you open your eyes, you feel the confusion setting in. In your dazed state you couldn’t quite recognise the room you were in.

“Y/N? It’s Spencer, we are having a meeting and you should probably join us.” You sit up on your elbows to see Spencer standing at the end of the room. Nodding you unravelled yourself from the blanket and stood, swaying on your feet slightly.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm. Wait. You said a meeting, you were just at Declan’s house, is everything okay?” You pause slightly in the doorway as Spencer walks out of the office. He gestures for you to follow him.

“Declan is gone, but JJ and Morgan have managed to arrest Doyle, he’s being brought into custody here and we are hoping he will be able to give us information on Declan.” You groan, rubbing your eyes with your palms.

“Not the kid…” Spencer nods, silently agreeing with you. Declan had gone through enough in his life, he didn’t need a kidnapping on top of that; no kid did.

“Oh, also, Hotch is back-“ You nod slightly, trying not to stress too much at this concept.

As you approached the roundtable room you could hear the chatter amongst the BAU members, and when they came into view you couldn’t help but smile.

“Dr. L/N, it’s good to have you here, I’m so sorry about all of this.” You smile at Agent Hotchner, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the team offer you kind smiles as you settle in your chairs, ready to begin the meeting.

“Okay, so where’s Morgan?”

“He refused to leave Doyle’s side, so they will arrive together” JJ offers Hotch a slight smile as he nods.

“Okay, in the meantime I would like to talk to you Y/N.” You quickly rise from your chair, following him out of the room, waiting for him to close the door behind you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I really am. I know it’s not ideal for you at all.” You quickly attempt to reassure him.

“It’s fine Hotch, really. I want to be here.” He nods, giving you a slight smile.

“I also wanted to let you know in advance, JJ and I have called Emily back, and she will be here any minute. Just prepare yourself, I don’t know how the rest of the team are going to react.”

The sound of a door opening pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn to see JJ.

“I just got a message; Derek is here with Doyle. Emily is five minutes away, Declan tried to call her.”

Hotch simply nods, guiding you back into the roundtable room, and sending you back to your seat.

You chatter a bit with the team trying to catch up on the case.

“So is Doyle responsible for Declan’s disappearance?” You furrow your brows, trying to wrap your head around all this chaos.

“It’s the most likely possibility, yes.” You nod at Spencer’s answer.

The truth of the matter was cases involving children had always hit you the hardest, no child deserved the situation Declan had grown up in. He was the son of an international terrorist, and Emily Prentiss had faked his death in order to give him a better life. Perhaps she was the only one who showed him a glimpse of what caring for a child was like?

Soon enough Derek had joined you, looking incredibly frustrated.

“Doyle’s in the interrogation room, I had a crack at him.” Derek’s face morphs into one of impatience.

“He didn’t do it Hotch, he’s insisting we release him to let him find his son.”

“So, we need to find out if he has any enemies, right?”

“Well Richard Geracey is a known enemy of Doyle; he’s been in the States for a couple weeks. I caught an image of him on a surveillance camera at Declan’s house.” Garcia pipes up, quickly displaying an image on the screen.

“He’s a suspect. Derek, go talk to him.” He stands.

As Derek disappears out of the door an idea hits you.

“Geracey couldn’t have pulled this off all on his own, I mean, Garcia saw two people destroying the security camera.” You keep your eyes glued to JJ as you speak, trying to tell whether or not you were being a hinderance.

“Well statistically the people most likely to be involved in-“

You had barely noticed that Hotch had left the room until he had returned with Derek by his side, cutting off Reid and telling everyone to sit.

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.” JJ quickly stands up as you begin to realise what’s happening.

You quickly glance around the room seeing curious looks on everyone’s faces. Uh oh, you didn’t want to be a part of this conversation. Teammates who think their colleague has been dead for 7 months, then find out she’s actually alive are bound to be mad about the whole thing.

“As you all know Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. Both the doctors were able to stabilise her-”

You began to panic slightly, you were in a room with profilers, they were bound to realise you were tense, or uncomfortable, right?

“-and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” As Hotch reems off the information you were already fully aware of you study the team, noticing the look of realisation on their faces.

“Her identity was strictly need-to-known, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

The team remained silent as they gazed up towards Hotch and JJ. Their faces were a mixture of confusion, and what appeared to be anger.

“She’s alive?” Garcia’s voice was meek, and it broke your heart to see the tears forming in her eyes.

Hotch stays quiet at this, averting his gaze.

“But we buried her?”

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife and all you could do was sit there, fidgeting anxiously in your chair.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.” You offer Hotch a small smile and a nod as his gaze lands on you.

“Any issues?! Yeah, I got issues!” The tone of Derek’s voice causes you to jump slightly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Spencer’s eyes settled on you.

But they quickly turn to focus on the sound of footsteps entering the room. A dark-haired woman walks through the door. The woman you recognised as Emily Prentiss.

She was gorgeous, her striking hair contrasting against her skin. Her face was set in a solemn look as her eyes trailed over her former teammates.

But you are pulled out of your train of thought by Agent Hotchner, who bustles you up from your seat and walks you towards the door, closing it slightly behind him he offers you a slight smile.

“Y/N, you don’t have to mention your involvement, not if you don’t want to.” You nod at this.

“Are they going to be mad?”

“Probably, but it was a life-or-death situation and I need to stand by my decision.”

“Yes sir.”

“Listen, you’ve had a long day. How about you go back to my office and get some rest, we will be here awhile.” You shake your head quickly at this.

“No, no, sir I’m fine. I really want to stay and help.”

“We can wake you if we need you.” You give in to the idea of sleep, it was the early hours of the morning and you had been up at the crack of dawn the previous day.

“I- okay, fine. But -uhm- I was just wondering, have you looked into Declan’s mother? I mean I know Doyle is his father, but we have no idea who-“ You pause, watching as Hotch offers you a smile.

“We will certainly look into that Y/N, now get some rest.”

And for the second time that night, you curl up onto Hotch’s sofa bed, arms wrapped tightly around a pillow, but you didn’t sleep.

Your mind ran rampant with ideas, and conspiracies as to who could have taken Declan Doyle. You knew that Geracey had something to do with it, he was a known enemy of Doyle’s after some form of conflict in Belfast. But the team had no idea who Declan’s mother is, but it was likely there was some conflict between her and Doyle, considering she wasn’t with them anymore.

You felt so hopeless, you were lacking the means to gather information because Hotch had sent you to a bed at a time where sleep will not come. Out there somewhere was a little boy, being paraded around, likely as a second best to Doyle, since he was in federal custody. That child hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this, he was simply taken from school, from his home.

Gazing at your phone screen you realised half-an-hour had passed, and you were just about to get up out of the bed when there was a light tapping on your door; it was Penelope Garcia.

“Garcia?” You whisper as the silhouette wastes no time in entering the dark room, dragging the light in with her.

“I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep and that considering the rest of the team are still brainstorming in here I could come in for some one-on -one time? You seem like you are a good idea bouncer-offer.” You chuckle at this, moving upright on the bed.

“Yeah sure, absolutely.”

“Okay so first I’m going to catch you up. Basically, Declan’s nanny took him home from school after he contracted food poisoning, so whoever is responsible for his kidnapping tainted food, and got to him on campus.”

“We have established that Geracey is in some sort of conspiracy with a woman, who posed as agents for the next shift at surveying Declan, they killed the nanny, and the actual agents and then took the child.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, so we got thinking about women who have had relations to Doyle, and of course Hotch had mentioned you talking about his mother. So, Emily managed to give us a compiled list and now we are trying to break Doyle, but it doesn’t seem to be working. They have been in there for the past fifteen minutes.” You nod slightly, turning to the door which swung open suddenly.

“Y/N?” You recognised the voice as Spencer’s, watching as he stepped into the room, taking not of Garcia.

“She told you everything?” You nod as Spencer gives you a tight-lipped smile.

Garcia seems to get some form of signal from him because she quickly makes an excuse to leave, bustling past Spencer and towards her ‘bat cave’.

“I know this is -uhm- a lot to ask, but we were wondering if you would interview Doyle?”

-

Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)

Authors Note: Wow! I hope you guys are enjoying this? I made reader's background quite specific as it made it easier to weave in bonding between her and that characters. I also love having fun with how lucky she is for all of this to happen to her?!?! I mean it's not 100% realistic (but then again, no Spencer Reid fanfic is?) but either way, go get it girl! <3

[ravers8fantasy]

Punch out locker room heacanons: minor circuit mishaps

Got a wee bit bored #ijbol I think the minor circuit locker room conditions would be ABYSMAL im talking flickering lights and easy - to - break - everything

The minor circuit locker room is a STATE

The moment disco kid saw he it he swore tears fell from his eyes

Joe always swears someone steals his stuff and kicks off, usually its king hippo who points out he was looking in the wrong locker the whole time

Kaiser is the dedicated janitor since the actual janitor seemingly quit ages ago

Disco tried to help but instead mixed the wrong chemicals together and made fucking mustard gas

King hippo has accidentally crushed almost everyones stuff (mac included, his water bottle exploded because of Hippo's foot)

Joe once found a spider the size of his palm and screamed so loudly that even Disco could hear it through his headphones

They all look out for eachother, Disco plays music in the background whilst everyone trains, Kaiser gives tips on how to move more efficiently in the ring, Joe helps hype everyone up and well Hippo, hippo makes sure everyone is fed after training of course

Disco listens to music with his head phones a bit too loudly... Kaiser has to remind him to turn it down unless he wants to end up partially deaf (kaiser is partially deaf)

When little Mac first joined, Joe saved him the least beaten up locker. It was missing a door and had a punch shaped dent which suspiciously aligned perfectly with kaiser's fist...

King hippo has a locker dedicated to storing food... No. He is NOT sharing said food unless he is in a good mood

When Mac is alone he steals food from Hippo's food locker, no one has caught him yet

One time, kaisers back cracked mid push up and it was so bad Disco and Joe thought he broke something

Mac has caught Disco singing in the showers and yes, Mac did record it. He threatens to show it to everyone whenever Disco tries to annoy him

One time Joe tripped over a misplaced tile on the floor and fell straight into a sink which ended up breaking off the wall and landed on his hand thus breaking it

Now Disco jokes that the sink was glass joe's 100th loss

A similar thing happened with kaiser but instead he sat on a bench and fucking broke it in half. Lets just say Disco found that the funniest thing ever

Disco doesnt have little "hehe" giggle oh nah Disco's laugh would have a beginning middle and end, he would charge up and unleash it, its not a laugh its a hearty roar.

Kaiser sneezes so loudly, sometimes Joe cant tell wether he is yelling something or actually sneezing.

Since king hippo can only roar, Mac learnt sign language to communicate with him, however the only thing he ever told Mac was that kaiser secretly isnt 42 he is 62 which Mac actually thought was true

"kaiser is it true your 62? I mean if you are then, thats impressive you look great for 62!"

"w-was?...."

Kaiser shaved his mustache off one time and until it grew back, no one looked at him in the eye

Joe takes long showers. Doesnt help when there is only 2 and one of them doesnt work because someone (Disco) made mustard gas in that one and everyone was told not to use it

OKAY SO I FEAR I HAD ALOT OF FUN MAKING THIS SO IM GONNA DO ONE FOR THE REST NOW😈😈

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[lloydfrontera]

the webtoon may have left out a lot of things but they did yassify the orcs which is the funniest thing to me right now

*sigh* they did yassify the orcs <3

now i want to see what they'll do with the sirens and whether i should be excited or worried lmao

[dirt-str1der]

I will always be vocal about how much dr stone sucks and how stupid it is but to be quite honest it consumes 80% of my waking thoughts and yes i also downloaded the chinese kemonomimi doujin so i could pretend to read it in my spare time

[jarvis-cockhead]

.

[spocksgotemotions]

cannot WAIT until I am financially and emotionally ready to move out