#IT'S BEEN 6+ MONTHS SINCE THE SHOW ENDED AND HERE I AM CHANGING MY PROFILE PIC BC I'M STILL NOT OVER IT HELP | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaypsnax · 3 years

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Alright then, to take it from the top... here’s some things I’ve done here or there for this dang game, from oldest to newest. With a big chunk of months starting with the margin Floofty there. Much is traditional and such, which is not my most practiced medium. Details on each below, just because I like over-explaining and it helps my nerves about posting.

1st: Fairly certain this Gramble is the first thing I did that was OK enough to show. Or, at least close to the first. He was one of my favorites and still is for his kindness(though he also can be really mean and paranoid, also a reason why I like him), so I wanted to get around to em. Also he’s very cute, I love my little malewife. I wanna scoop him up and hold him. Trouble is, Gramble has to have some of the most awkward proportions I’ve yet experienced while trying to draw a grumpus, I swear. That, and the more I looked at it, the more I grew to be unhappy with it. That generally applies to basically all of the drawings from last year, I find them to be “eh” at best. But it is what it is. 2nd: Second up is Flooftyyy, my most favorite. Intelligent, well-spoken, morally ambiguous, NB... and an asshole. But one with a cause they believe in that’s ultimately well intentioned, which they’ll go to self-destructive lengths to fulfill. And it’s clear they struggle to really get a grasp on how to treat people and have learned to cope with their frustration by shutting everyone out and believing them to be ignorant. While still obviously playing favorites between Eggabell and Triffany :p But by the end of the game, they’re learning that in order to really do what they want, they’ve got to really try and understand others. They’re the sort that I’d love to keep following to see their development. The awkwardness, the uncomfortable apologies and attempts at empathizing or opening up, the potential for blossoming relationships and a connection with others that, maybe, they’ve never quite experienced before. Their character is one that’s kind of close to my heart for being interesting and also quite similar to one I made and roleplayed for years. Add in the fact they’re NB and that just sealed the deal, that’s some fucking gender goddamn euphoria right there. So I had to draw them. 3rd: This one also mostly falls under the same explanation as above, except it was an effort as really figuring out grumpus bodies and proportions and stuff. Albeit in the form of solely Floofty, but my mental bandwidth for anything more than a drawing or two at a time is zilch. After that I’m spent. It was the first thing that I felt even marginally satisfied with, however.... I just feel like I’m in danger when looking at it. Like I’m gonna lose my way of things and habits I’ve built now from observing it too closely. Did keep the eyes, however. Kind of. 4th: To be real w you I just felt like drawing a Filbo after seeing a Filbo. He’s cute and I’d put a smooch on his dumb little head. Also more practice w grump stuff, but with some intentional attempts at stylization. I guess it didn’t stick, but who knows, maybe I could pick some of it back up? 5th: THE FIRST NEW DRAWING FROM A FEW DAYS AGO and it’s FLOOFTY, of course. It’s not really the first, there’s a few other things before it, but they suck so... yeah. I’d crawled out of the Bugsnax hole somewhat after a few months and failing to really do anything I actually wanted to do before, but a particular fic conked me right back 6 ft under. Piled the dirt over me and packed it in tight. So here I am again. And not only is it like that, but after binging a whole nearly 60,000 words in a night/morning, I was struck with the inspiration to actually write myself. Or try to, anyway. I have experience in RPing, but not a whole lot in actually... making a story myself. It’s not been going well, but I’ve talked plenty about that already... I’m sure it gets annoying for the whole maybe one person whose seen most of it to witness. And I’m still having fun. I’d mention the fic, but considering it’s NSFW and I’m officially tagging this... I don’t know if they’d want me advertising it as such. But surprise surprise, it’s Floofty related. And don’t get the wrong idea, while it covers explicit subject matter, that’s not entirely the point. Not a bad thing if it were, just that it’s more than that. I just like good character writing over all else, which is something liking this game to begin with heavily reinforced.... 6th: Heeeere’s Gramble, again. I’d been doing some little drawings for character profile stuff in my notebook, but I started to run into some difficulties when I got to him. This here is one of the results of the couple of little draws I did to try and understand. Again, his proportions are so *weird*. He’s just a little guy.... 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th: Here marks the first impulse draw after considering Buddy/Filbo/Beffica poly stuff. As well as the sudden Buddy drawing in general, which came as a big shock to me. These draws are suuuper rough, but I like the concepts. And goodness has this stuff been a whole ‘nother tangent... I did a fair amount of talking about it here. I’d do more, since there were TONS of details I still wanted to mentioned, but... my hands are starting to hurt. So maybe later. I realized that I kinda of messed up their design in my head bc I thought they had more similar teeth to Clumby. Whoops. That’s what I get for not using reference and same with FlooFTY’S TEETH AND THE WATCH NOOOOOOOOOO- .... *Ahem* I reckon the design is subject to change. Gotta make some little adjustment here or there, like maybe different eyes to distinct them from Floofty, but I actually rather... like the look. The hat, tie, and maybe a change to a bag on the side look nice... if totally not canon. But I will have just a little break from canon, as a treat. Otherwise it’s canon or bust. Personally, at least. I don’t really hold others to that standard unless they say they’re trying to follow canon or diverge so badly that a character is unrecognizable.

#bugsnax #Floofty Fizzlebean #Filbo Fiddlepie #Beffica Winklesnoot #Journalist #uhhhhh #Gramble Gigglefunny #This is NOT going to be a common thing #Floating around in official tags kinda freaks me out #my art

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doyumacy · 3 years

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FALLOUT |LH| ONE

*gif not mine

TWO

SUMMARY: You, at such young age made your way in business becoming a successful one. With that a lot of jealousy and rivalry came. Your mother finally convinces you to hire a team of security just in case someone tried to hurt you. And that’s when Donghyuck becomes your personal bodyguard, following you everywhere you go. You don’t mind at all since you find him very entertaining and nice. What you don’t know is that he’s the one that has been hired to keep you close and kill you.

PAIRING: reader x bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin and taeyong. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut, violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,8K

7 am. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast and rush to the office. That was your daily routine and you were used to it. But no that morning. You were getting ready to go to your interview with the TIME Magazine. They were working on an article that would be called “Women Under 30 Are Leading the Pack in Entrepreneurship and Innovation.”

4 years ago, you’d wake up around 9, get ready to go to class and have lunch with your friends, but how does time change, right? Now you were a CEO of your own company with no time for your friends or even yourself. It’s not like you hated it, you liked being a CEO and being recognised by your hard work. It made you proud and wanted to show people that if you really want something and if you work hard for it, you’ll get it.

At the main entrance, you were greeted by the staff and one of them guided you to the room where they interviewed you and took some pictures of you.

That wasn’t your first interview, but you couldn’t feel nervous because you wanted to say the right words to encourage other people.

...

“Lia, I will be back in ten minutes. Can you sort this papers out on my desk?“

“Okay, Boss.”

It was a beautiful sunny day and the office was busy as usual. You were reading the contract at the table trying to get some order into them when the door opened. Nobody just walked into your office without knocking, so of course it had to be…

“Hi mom...” you greeted her.

“Hi sweetheart,” she smirked at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” you nodded and placed the papers on the table, “what brings you here, mom?”

“I can’t visit my beautiful daughter?” She put her right hand on her chest.

You giggled. “Of course you can, but I’d love you to call me first.”

You stood and walked towards her, hugging her. “You want some coffee? Water?”

“I’m fine, darling. I just had brunch with a friend,” she smiled and sat in one of the chairs in front of your desk. “Speaking of which, she told me something that got me really upset at you.”

“Why?” You frowned and sat in front of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re getting death threats, (Y/N)?” She looked at you.

You sighed. “Because they don’t matter. You know I don’t pay attention to that. It’s pointless.”

“We’re not talking about hate comments, (Y/N). Someone is threatening you with killing you.”

“Mom, you don’t have to w-“

“Of course I can, and I will. That’s why I contacted an old friend who used to be the Prime Minister’s bodyguard. He’s gonna meet you tomorrow,” she informed you.

“Tomorrow I can’t, I have a meeting.”

“Then you better make some space or you’ll be seeing me here everyday,” your mom smiled. “This is serious. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re my baby.”

“I can take care of myself, mom. Please, I don’t want a full team of bodyguards,” you sighed.

“You will only have 2 and you won’t even notice they’re there,” she said and placed a hand on yours. “Please.”

You stared at her for a couple of seconds and then sighed, nodding. “Okay, fine. But it’s temporary.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Later that day, after going home you went to the supermarket to get some groceries and went home. You loved cooking, but you weren’t exactly the tidiest when it came to prepare your delicious meals.

After you ate, you checked your email and realised that your mom’s friend had sent you a file with the two people that would be working with you. Somehow you expected an army of people and that annoyed you, but you thought you could with two people. You didn’t even bother to check the profiles since you knew what their work would be.

You closed your laptop and went to your bedroom. Sometimes you thought your life was boring because you barely talked to someone else. Your last relationship didn’t end well and you were still a little bit hesitant to know someone else. Or scared.

And friends? You didn’t have many, but Lena, Taeyong and Jaemin were always there for you. And so were you.

You knew Lena since you were a toddler, your mother was good friends with her parents and you two got along very well. You met Taeyong in high school when you were trying to find the science room and since he was a senior, he helped you. Everyone used to think Taeyong and you dated, but in fact, you never loved Taeyong that way. You saw him as your older brother and he as his younger sister. And last but not least, you met Jaemin through Taeyong.

At first both of you didn’t get along well since he was all an extrovert and didn’t quite understand you were a little introverted, but he with time understood and stopped forcing you. Then you became the crackheads of the group, always laughing and going out and sometimes getting drunk.

You loved college days.

And love? You met Jaehyun during your first year of college, he was in your economics class and you couldn’t help yourself falling for him. He was charming, funny and so handsome.

Jaehyun was your first everything: your first love, your first boyfriend, your first kiss and the first guy that broke your heart.

You two dated for almost 2 years, but ended when he told you he didn’t love you anymore and didn’t want to hurt you and left.

Months after that, you took the opportunity to go as an exchange student to Japan where you met Yuta. You were never a thing, but both of you had feelings for each other but never went official since you would stay there only for 6 months.

You came back to Korea and graduated, and had no time for love since you were too busy starting your business. But Yuta would come on business trips to Korea sometimes and meet you.

But the last time you saw him was a year ago.

The next morning, a tall man showed up to your office holding a black folder. Everything about him was intimidating and you knew he was your mom’s friend.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m Kim Hyunwoo,” he extended his hand.

“Hi,” you greeted and you shook hands with him. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Please sit.”

“Thanks,” he said and sat in one of the black chairs in front of your desk. “I sent you an email yesterday, did you read it?”

“I saw it, but didn’t read it. Sorry,” you apologised.

“It’s okay, that's why I brought this,” he placed the black folder on the desk and tossed it to you. “These are the files of the people that will be working with you.”

“Why is it important to check them out? I mean, they’ll be around me 24/7.”

“Because I want you to know their abilities and their tasks.”

You sighed and grabbed the folder opening it. You saw the first man around his 30’s, no emotions showed in his face. Kang Sungho. According to his file he was specialised in driving and trained in evasive driving techniques, such as executing short-radius turns to change the direction of the vehicle, high-speed cornering, and so on.

You passed the next page and saw a picture of a man with tanned golden skin, brown hair and dark eyes. He looked intimidating. He was trained in pretty much everything, from every type of knife to every type of gun.

Impressive.

Suddenly, the door from your office opened and the air left your lungs momentarily when his eyes met yours, dark and calculating. You expected him to offer you a polite smile as most people do, but his face remained in a stern mask. You somehow prayed he wouldn’t be your bodyguard because the less thing you needed was a distraction.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” the voice of your Hyunwoo forced you to switch your gaze to him and you shoot him a questioning look. “This is Lee Donghyuck” the boy nodded slightly in your direction at the mention of his name, “he’s your new personal bodyguard.”

You couldn't help but let your eyebrows raise comically. The world somehow hated you.

“You would not even know I’m here, Miss,” Donghyuck said.

You nodded.

Donghyuck awoke to the steady patter of rain upon his window, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the rising sun. He realised he had awoken up ten minutes before his set alarm, which made him grumble.

He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, took a cold shower and after that, Donghyuck put on a black pants and before putting the white shirt, he put on a bulletproof vest making him look thicker and then continued with a white interior t-shirt, a white shirt, put on his tie adjusting it and lastly, he slipped on the black jacket.

Donghyuck gave himself a quick look in the mirror and sighed. He placed his hands on the countertop and asked how did he end in that position?

Yes, he was an assassin.

No, he didn't kill women.

But the money he was offered to do so was such a big amount that was almost repulsive. And he needed the money.

Donghyuck had never pretended to be someone else before, he just showed up and took down his task and then left. Now he was stuck with some random woman and follow her until she was in love with him and kill her in the worst way.

What was with people these days? He didn't want to know.

Jeno was already awake and had made breakfast, “you gotta eat well today in case you die protecting your boss,“ he joked and sat down in front of him.

Donghyuck and Jeno had known each other for many years and were roommates. There was kindness in his smile, a good man. He knew what ‘Haechan’ did for a living, but decided to ignore it since he rather thought his friend was also a good man.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “I cant believe I'm doing this.”

“You can't still say no, you know?” Jeno looked at him.

“I know, but I need the money,” Donghyuck said and had a sip of coffee, “I will retire after this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don't wanna do this anymore,” Donghyuck shrugged.

“Well, then get the job done and get those millions,” Jeno said and then shook his head, “that sounded awful. Ignore it.”

Donghyuck laughed. “Are you sure you don't wanna work with me?”

“One hundred percent.”

…

A perfectly collected black-haired woman, dressed in a skirt under her white knee and a pale pink blouse appeared in the room. "Good morning, you must be Lee Donghyuck, right?" She asked kindly.

"Yes," Donghyuck replied, "Hello, you are....?"

"I'm Yun Somin, Kim Hyunwoo personal assistant," she smiled nicely. “You’re the new bodyguard we hired a few days ago.”

"Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck expressed.

“Please, come with me so I can give you your equipment,“ Somin said.

Donghyuck followed her to a room that was an office painted beige and champagne, and it had only one wall-sized window, which faced the buildings. On the dark brown desk sat a desktop computer, a notebook lying open, and a stack of papers sitting under a turtle-shaped paperweight and there was a swivel chair in the middle of the office. A bookshelf, bursting with books was behind the dark brown desk.

Somin opened a desk drawer and pulled out a black box that contained a small stainless steel knife, a Beretta Px4 Storm and finally a earphone for a walkie-talkie.

Donghyuck put the earphone on his ear and the walkie-talkie on the waist band. He put the gun away by placing it on the waist band as well and the knife inside the inner jacket pocket.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s codename is Sunflower. Whenever you’re public, that’s the name you’ll use,“ Somin informed.

Donghyuck nodded, “Sunflower. Got it.“

Somin opened the door for him and let him in. You were if anything was better looking than Donghyuck expected. Your face told of a leaned body beneath your wintry garb and your expression was serious but not unkind.

You were hot.

Fuck. Donghyuck thought. He was so screwed.

“You would not even know I’m here, Miss,” Donghyuck said.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Well, let's keep going. We have a long day coming,“You said, walking to the door.

Donghyuck walked behind you and raised his arm above his mouth and spoke into the mic, “Sunflower's going out.“

…

You were the smile, or at least that was what Donghyuck thought of you. Everything about you was a soft and understated joy as you greeted each person at every event. You really cared about the people and their interest and could see in your eyes your uprightness. People loved you and Donghyuck didn't quite understand why someone wanted you dead. Your kindness couldnt be the reason, could it?

“So, Donghyuck, what do you think?”

He turned back to Sungho. “She's different from every shark out there. Yeah, I’ll bet they’re lining up to off her.”

“Well, someone’s been sending some pretty disturbing emails. The NIS can’t pin the guy down.”

“They’ll find them.“ Donghyuck addressed.

The eventful day was over. You all spent the day going to different meetings with several people. You were exhausted but you were happy to see your friend Taeyong, after not seeing him for almost two months.

The black car stopped at a red light and you took the opportunity to take out your phone and reply to some text messages. You realised Donghyuck was looking at you and Donghyuck quickly looked straight ahead. “So, Donghyuck? You have been doing this for so long?”

“Not really, ma’am,“ he responded.

You considered him. He didn’t look like his concept of a bodyguard, big and beefy. He wasn't that tall. Slimy built, with a very attractive face, enigmatic yet intelligent dark eyes and dark hair. “And what did you do before?”

“I… used to train some people at a boxing gym,“ Donghycuk lied.

“Cool,” you smiled. “Maybe you could show me some movements.”

You quickly regretted saying that because of how red your cheeks got. Donghyuck smirked without looking at you.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Donghyuck got out of the car and opened the door for you and you entered the restaurant with him following you.

"Sunflower's in," He spoke into the mic.

A young woman, with loose hair dressed all in black, took you to the restaurant's private lounge, where Taeyong was already waiting for you.

You hugged your friend and smiled, "The Bahamas suited you."

"Thank you, Woman-Under-30-Leading-the-Pack-in-Entrepreneurship-and-Innovation" Taeyong beamed and looked at Donghyuck, who stood with his back to you right at the glass door, "who is he?"

You looked at Donghyuck and spoke as you sat down, "It's my personal bodyguard."

“Why do you have a personal bodyguard? Did something happen? ” He asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, everything’s fine," you calmed him down and grabbed the menu, opening it.

He sat in front of you and still looked worried, “how do you want me to be calm? Something is going on and you don't want to tell me. "

You smirked a little and shook your head, "really, Taeyong, everything is under control. There’s nothing to be concerned about.“

Taeyong sighed and nodded, "Okay, I will believe in your words."

You smiled satisfied and began to read the menu. Taeyong did the same. Jaemin stood in front of the door of the restaurant's private lounge but Donghyuck prevented him from entering.

"Identify," Donghyuck demanded, looking at him.

"Na Jaemin, owner and chef of this restaurant," he replied, frowning, "who are you?"

Before Donghyuck responded, you opened the door and looked at Jaemin, “I'm sorry, he's my new bodyguard. Lee Donghyuck, all right, he will have dinner with us too. "

Donghyuck nodded, “understood. Enjoy your meal, guys. "

“Thank you,“ Taeyong responded as Donghyuck closed the door.

“I can't believe the two most influential people of Korea are here in my restaurant,“ Jaemin joked as he sat.

You chuckled, “let’s see if it’s as good as people say.“

…

Softly splashing water droplets hit the car windows as Sungho drove onwards. You watched the raindrops race down to the windows. You had been with Taeyong and Jaemin for almost three hours, and now you were on your way to your house.

"Sorry for staying there for a long time, you haven't even eaten," you apologised.

“It’s fine, ma’am. It's our job,“ Donghyuck replied.

“You can call me (Y/N). We’re almost the same age,“ You said

“Even so, you’re my boss. It’s not right,“ he responded.

You chuckled and looked at him in the rearview mirror, "Well, then as your boss, I order it to you."

Donghyuck smiled and you noticed it, “I'll try it.“

#haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct smut #donghyuck smut

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

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How Could I Hate Her?

Heather Series Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession Part 6

Summery: When checked on by the team, Reader confesses her guilt ridden feelings

Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of depressive episode, light swearing, mentions of medication, but other than that? Nothing that I can think of?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

Words: 3.1k

A/N: Y’all.....it is almost 4:30 in the morning. I started writing this around 9 pm. I am committed and I have Criminal Minds to keep me company so its fine. Also, there is much needed fluff in this chapter. I also tried writing in 3rd person, because there were things I wanted to show that I wouldn’t have been able to if I didn’t. I hope you like it! I should have a bonus episode out later today at some point when I wake from the dead, so, enjoy!

~~~~~

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since anyone on the team had seen or heard anything from y/n.

“I stopped by her place a couple days after, to try and talk to her. I couldn’t even tell if she was on the other side.” Derek remarked.

Aaron, Derek, JJ, Emily, David, and Penelope stood in her office, talking about y/n, and how worried they were.

They all just got back from a case.

Spencer had immediately gotten called away from work by Heather, who claimed it was an emergency. None of the others truly believed it was.

“As icky as it makes me feel, I can check to see if she is still in her apartment, I mean. If the place where she lives has cameras, I can easily check to see if she’s left.”

She looks to Hotch for permission.

He nods his head in approval.

“Has anyone else tried contacting her?”

“I’ve tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. She turned her phone off.” JJ chewed at her lip, her mind traveling to the worst possible scenario. A scenario she wouldn’t let happen. Not again.

“Poor kid. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.” Rossi’s voice is soft, and he leans back against the wall, eyes not really connecting with anything.

“I know Spencer has tried calling her a couple times. But by the look on his face, I don’t think he got very far.” Prentiss paces back and forth, trying to keep herself busy so she doesn’t go kick down y/n’s door herself.

They all knew.

Derek couldn’t keep something like that to himself. And when he told the team, JJ stepped forward, and confessed that she knew. Spencer was in disbelief.

Y/n had come to JJ so often over the past couple of months, Will didn’t question it anymore. Y/n said watching Henry, and being around someone she doesn’t have to compete with helped.

She never really saw her smile like she used to, but JJ did see her relax, let her walls down. She thought y/n was getting somewhere. She was wrong. Some profiler she was.

“You should have seen her guys.” Derek had been the one to see her shut down before his eyes.

“She was shaking. She couldn’t stop crying, shaking. She was mortified that he had heard her. And then she just, stopped. She stopped shaking. The broken look on her face completely vanished. She didn’t say a word to me when she left. It was like she turned herself off.”

“Confessing your love for someone who then tells you they don’t love you the same can do that to a person.” Penelope says, typing away at her screens.

“No, it’s so much more than that.” JJ says, taking a seat in one of Garcias spinning chairs. “ Every time she would say something even remotely mean about Heather, or Spencer, she would shake her head, look up and smile. She shoves it down because she doesn’t want to be bothersome. That kind of burial of feelings can only end in an extreme.” JJ thinks back to every night, every tear shed at her house. How y/n would wipe her tears, shake her head and force a smile.

“I’m in.” Garcia chirps up from her desk, pulling up video footage of a hallway.

They all circle around, prying eyes eager to look inside the private life of their family, who is in desperate need of assistance.

“So, here she is, the day she left, about an hour after leaving the building.”

They watch the video as she walks down her to her door, tears streaming down her face. She takes her keys out, but before unlocking her door, she leans her forehead against the wood.

Her shoulders shake.

A collective sigh leaves all of them.

“And here I am fast forwarding a couple days.” People walk up and down the hallway, yet her door stays still. Until it opens. She taps a key and the video returns to normal, and a forlorn y/n exists, now clad in sweatpants and a cal tech sweatshirt.

“That’s Spencer’s sweatshirt.” JJ whispers, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Penelope fast forwards again, stopping it when y/n appears once again on the screen.

“Okay, she was gone for about, 2 hours and 43 minutes.”

Y/n is holding two bags, one in each hand, though neither of them are very full.

She disappears behind the door, and Penelope fast forwards again. Morgan can be seen a few times, but y/n doesn’t leave again.

“Oh my god. She left once, three days after and hasn’t been out since.” Penelope takes her glasses off, and wipes her face.

“Alright. We’re doing a wellness check. Y/n clearly needs some help right now, so help is what she is getting. Let’s go.”

The team all nodded, and off they went.

When they arrived, Hotch walked to the front desk, his badge already out. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We’re here to do a wellness check on y/n y/l/n in apartment 112.”

The front clerk doesn’t question it, simply grabbing a set of keys and leading them down the hallway to an elevator.

Each person is in their own head, but when they appear outside of her apartment, their focus changes. It was about y/n now.

“Y/n, are you in there? Baby girl, can you let us in?”

They stand and listen for a shuffling of feet or the sound of a chair, but nothing.

Radio static.

Hotch nods to the man, and he unlocks her door, allowing the team into her apartment.

It’s dark.

That’s the first thing Derek notices as he walks forward. The second is how cold it is.

The third is the glass breaking underneath his boot.

His eyes land on the pile of shards beneath him, and the move to the book laying on the floor, and the broken mirror which still stands on her wall.

He’s trying not to profile her, but it’s hard.

She didn’t even want to look at herself.

The team walks through her apartment, taking in the abandoned bowls of half eaten food, the empty liquor bottles and faint smell of cigarette smoke.

The path leads them to the living room, where y/n is curled up under a blanket on her couch beneath an open window.

Derek walks over and shuts it, his heart aching at the sight before him.

Y/n clutches a pillow to her chest, her grip tight. Unfinished chinese sits in front of her, beside an ashtray filled with buds.

An empty bottle of medication lays on the ground next to her, and he prays to a god he stopped believing in years ago.

She’s mumbling in her sleep, and the team gathers around, varying versions of wet eyes.

Derek is the one to kneel beside her, and place a hand on her shoulder. He’s relieved when he hears her mumbles, feels the warmth beneath his fingers.

“Baby girl. Baby girl, I need you to wake up.” He knows she’ll feel cornered. He knows it’s a lot to wake up to. But he knows she needs this.

She stirs and her eyes open, cloudy and grey. They flick up to him and then around the room, taking in the sight.

She wants to cry.

She begins to move herself in a sitting position, and Rossi can’t help but notice how thin she’s gotten the last couple weeks. She looks tiny compared to Derek. He just wants to hold her, and never let her go.

JJ notices her lips are chapped, and the dark circles under her eyes. She turns and heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

“What are you all doing here?” Her voice is hoarse. She hasn’t spoken in days, unless you count the incoherent sentences she sobs at three in the morning.

Aaron wishes he had stepped in sooner. Her hands shake as she moves to brush hair out of her face. She was his daughter, even if not by blood. He doesn’t know how he couldn’t have seen this.

Emily notices the dry wet spots on her t-shirt, and the pillow that now rests in her lap. She bites her lip to keep her own tears at bay.

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” The words are laced with guilt and self-hatred. How can she possibly take them from a case that could be 10 times more important than her?

Derek runs a hand over her head, wishing he could take her pain away in the blink of an eye.

JJ appears with a glass of water.

“You’re family, y/n. We take care of our family.” Penelope falls to her other side, and grabs y/n’s hand, clasping it in between her own.

JJ moves a couple things on her coffee table, sitting down and handing her the glass of water.

Y/n takes it with her free hand, taking a sip from it.

“Sweetheart, when did you run out of medication?” Derek's voice is soft, it almost breaks near the end, but he holds out.

She sniffs, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose. “A couple weeks ago. They’re filled, I just haven’t….I couldn’t…”

She hands the glass of water back to JJ. Her fingers start tapping her thigh.

“Talk to us, y/n. We’re not going anywhere.” JJ starts to cry, but she can’t help it. The situation in which her friend was in, was dark. It was deep. She’s been on the road to where she is for months, and JJ didn’t do anything.

Y/n thought for a moment. About lying, saying she was fine, that she was coming into the office the next day, that she was over it. But she was tired. Tired of running. Tired of lying.

“I love him.” Her voice is wet, flem and saliva coating each word as it leaves her mouth. The sentence isn’t louder than a whisper.

She clears her throat, and grabs the glass back from JJ, taking a longer gulp.

Her head hurt.

No one speaks.

No one moves.

“I love him.” The tears flowing down her cheeks are different from the ones she’s shed the past couple months. They’re warmer, more full. It relieves the stinging behind her eyes a bit.

“I love him, and I can’t help but tell myself over and over how much better she is than me.” She turns her palm over in between Garcia’s and clutches it with every fiber of her being. “Every bad thing I’ve ever thought about myself is ringing through my ears, in her voice.” She chokes on her sobs, and the room is filled with the months of feelings building in her chest.

“I hate her.” The words fall from her tongue and her chest falls. A weight has been lifted.

“I hate her, and I hate that I hate her. Why should I? She’s pretty, she’s accomplished, she makes him happy.” She looks up at Derek, eye’s pleading. “She is everything, and has everything that I can never have or be. And it kills me.”

JJ takes the glass before it slips from her hands, and sets it down, mirroring Penelope and clutching y/n’s hand between hers.

Y/n leans into Derek, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head.

She cries and cries, and finally after months, she breathes. Her tears stop and she lets the oxygen fill her lungs and she breathes.

For a moment, sniffles throughout the room are all that can be heard. And then Aaron speaks.

“Morgan, I think you should take y/n to go get her meds. A little sunlight and some time out of the house will do her some good.”

She retracts herself from Derek, a slight pink returning to her cheeks. She nods.

“And when you get back, I’ll help you shower.” JJ whispers rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand.

Another nod.

Penelope and JJ let go of her, and she stands.

Penelope notices that she’s wearing the same sweatshirt from the video.

Derek stands with her, one hand on the small of her back, the others holding hers protectively.

“Where are your shoes sweetheart? I don’t want you cutting yourself on the glass.”

“They’re in the kitchen somewhere. I kicked them off and didn’t notice where they landed.”

“Okay. We’ll just be careful, okay?”

Another nod.

The team moves as she does, not crowding her, but never being too far away.

Derek helps her get her shoes and coat on, and leads her out the door.

Once the door shuts, Hotch turns to the others. “Alright. JJ, Emily, start in her bedroom and bathroom. Laundry, bedding, the whole nine yards. Garcia, start in here. I would suggest going through her laptop to see if there's anything we should know about. I know you don’t like it, but in order to make sure she’s safe, we have to.”

The three women nod, and Penelope is already grabbing the laptop that lay at the end of the couch.

“I’ll work on cleaning the kitchen, and David,” He turns to Rossi, already rolling up his sleeves. “I’m sure she doesn’t have much food on hand, and she could probably use a home cooked meal.”

“Say no more. I’m on it.”

~~~~~

The car ride to the pharmacy was quiet.

I can’t say it wasn’t nice to get out of the house. I missed the light.

It was early February, so pink and red hearts decorated the storefront in preparation.

I hated the thought of valentines day during all of this. The thought of what he would be doing for her drove me insane.

It still makes my heart ache.

“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours, baby girl?”

I shift my focus, turning back to the driver's seat where Derek sat.

“Just thinking about how much I hate valentines day. It’s over commercialized and the guy who named it named it after himself, selfish prick.”

I see Derek chuckle. “That you are right about.”

I let a small smile slide across my face, and for once it’s not forced. I know not everything will be better right away. I know it’s gonna take time. But still.

It feels nice knowing I’m not alone.

We arrive, and he parks.

We sit for a minute in the silence, and his hand reaches over and takes mine in his grasp.

“I want you to know, that you are a million times better than Heather could ever wish to be. And any dude who doesn’t see that isn’t as smart as he appears.”

He turns his body, so he’s fully facing me. “If you ever feel like this again, I want you to call me right away. Even if that voice inside your head is telling you it’s nothing, call me anyway. You’re not alone, y/n. And I will do anything and everything it takes to make you see that.”

I squeeze his hand, and nod. “I promise, Derek.”

“Good. Now let's go get you your medication.”

I nod, letting go of his hand, and releasing the seat belt, and climbing out of the car.

The pharmacist greeted me with my name and a smile, handing me the white paper bag that held a refill that was long overdue.

Before leaving, my eyes caught something inside a soda cooler at the front.

Derek stops and follows my eye. “What is it, love bug?”

I point to a purple bottle. “When I was a kid, and I had a bad day at school, or life just got to be too much, my mom and I would go to the movies, and watch the most cringy, bad looking movie they were showing. We would sit in the back and eat our weight in popcorn while making fun of everything. And she would always get a large grape fanta for us to share.”

He smiles, and steps forward, opening the door, and grabbing a bottle. “I think this constitutes a grape fanta than.”

It’s getting easier to smile at him.

He buys it, and we head back out to the car.

We sit, and he waits until the pill is down my throat, followed by fizzy grape soda. It's tart and sweet at the same time, and I lick my lips of the stickiness.

The music is a little louder on the drive back.

When we enter the door, the first thing I notice is the smell. It smells like Italian, and the best Italian at that.

I walk into the kitchen and I see Rossi, towel over his shoulder and wooden spoon in his hand.

He smiles when he sees me. “Ah, principessa, come. Taste. I know pesto cavatappi is a favorite of yours.”

He ushers me forward, holding out the spoon with a bit of sauce on the end.

I lean forward, capturing the end with my tongue.

“Mmm.” I lick my lips, and chuckle a bit. “It’s really good.”

He smiles, setting the spoon down. “Good.” He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t you ever forget that.”

I smile into his chest. “I won’t.”

“Good. Now go get cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready.”

I nod, setting my soda down on the counter, and walking through my apartment.

It doesn’t even look like mine. It’s lighter and clean, and every shadow that played tricks on my mind are no longer there.

I look around at the apartment, taking note of how much was done in the time I was gone.

The broken mirror no longer hangs on the wall, mocking me. My couch is back to its original position against the wall, and my windows are closed, the curtains open, letting all the natural afternoon light in.

My laptop is set up and a playlist of feel good songs is playing softly through its speakers.

I can’t help myself.

I start to cry, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking around at the room.

How could I have not seen this?

“Oh no, you’re crying. What is it? Can I fix it? What can I do? Tell me what I can do?” Penelope rushes over, her hands running over my arm.

JJ, Emily, and Hotch enter at her exclamation. JJ is holding a fresh set of clothes for me.

“They’re good tears, Pen, they’re good.”

The feeling in my chest is warm.

They move around me, hands coming to gently grasp at me.

“I just forgot that I have a family. I don’t know how but I did.”

Aaron smiles at me.

“And man does it feel good to be reminded.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds series #cm series #cm #heather #conan gray #song fic

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satansjit · 4 years

Text

Reflections on the Color of My Skin

By Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

My colleague had other encounters with the law that he shared later that night, but his first story started a chain reaction among us. One by one we each recalled multiple incidents of being stopped by the police. None of the accounts were particularly violent or life-threatening, although it was easy to extrapolate to highly publicized cases that were. One of my colleagues had been stopped for driving too slowly. He was admiring the local flora as he drove through a New England town in the autumn. Another had been stopped because he was speeding, but only by five miles per hour. He was questioned and then released without getting a ticket. Still another colleague had been stopped and questioned for jogging down the street late at night.

As for me, I had a dozen different encounters to draw from. There was the time I was stopped late at night at an underpass on an empty road in New Jersey for having changed lanes without signaling. The officer told me to get out of my car and questioned me for ten minutes around back with the headlights of his squad car brightly illuminating my face. Is this your car? Yes. Who is the woman in the passenger seat? My wife. Where are you coming from? My parent’s house. Where are you going? Home. What do you do for a living? I am an astrophysicist at Princeton University. What’s in your trunk? A spare tire, and a lot of other greasy junk. He went on to say that the “real reason” why he stopped me was because my car’s license plates were much newer and shinier than the 17-year-old Ford that I was driving. The officer was just making sure that neither the car nor the plates were stolen.

Among my other stories, I had been stopped by campus police while transporting my home supply of physics textbooks into my newly assigned office in graduate school. They had stopped me at the entrance to the physics building where they asked accusatory questions about what I was doing. It was 11:30 p.m. Open-topped boxes of graduate math and physics textbooks filled the trunk. And I was transporting them into the building, which left me wondering how often that scenario shows up in police training videos.

We went on for two more hours. But before we retired for the night we searched for common denominators among the stories. We had all driven different cars—some were old, others were new, some were undistinguished, others were high performance imports. Some police stops were in the daytime, others were at night. Taken one-by-one, each encounter with the law could be explained as an isolated incident where, in modern times, we all must forfeit some freedoms to ensure a safer society for us all. Taken collectively, however, you would think the cops had a vendetta against physicists because that was the only profile we all had in common. In this parade of automotive stop-and-frisks, one thing was for sure, the stories were not singular, novel moments playfully recounted. They were common, recurring episodes. How could this assembly of highly educated scientists, each in possession of the PhD—the highest academic degree in the land—be so vulnerable to police inquiry in their lives? Maybe the police cued on something else. Maybe it was the color of our skin. The conference I had been attending was the 23rd meeting of the National Society of Black Physicists. We were guilty not of DWI (Driving While Intoxicated), but of other violations none of us knew were on the books: DWB (Driving While Black), WWB (Walking While Black), and of course, JBB (Just Being Black).

None of us were beaten senseless. None of us were shot. But what does it take for a police encounter to turn lethal? On average, police in America kill more than 100 unarmed black people per year. Who never made it to our circle? I suspect our multi-hour conversation would be rare among most groups of law-abiding people.

As I compose this, about 10,000 chanting protestors are filing past my window in Manhattan. And because of the intermittent looting and related violence, the curfew for this evening has been pushed earlier, to 8 p.m., from 11 p.m. in the preceding days. The most common placard was “Black Lives Matter.” Many others simply displayed the name George Floyd, who was handcuffed face-down on the street with a police officer’s knee on the back of his neck, applied with a force of at least half the officer’s body weight, resulting in his death. Curious irony that NFL star Colin Kaepernick offered a simple demonstration of care and concern for the fate of black people in the custody of police officers, by taking a knee during the Star Spangled Banner before football games. (One media outlet mangled the moment by describing him as protesting the national anthem.) The outrage against his silent act of concern for a national problem persisted through the 2017 season when, as a free agent, he went unsigned by any team to continue his livelihood.

So, we went from a peaceful knee to the ground to a fatal knee to the neck.

The way peaceful protesters and the press are being shoved, maced, tear-gassed, pepper-sprayed, and tackled in the streets of our cities (when the police should have focused on arresting the looters) you would think the protestors were doing something illegal or un-American. But, of course, the U.S. Constitution has something to say about it:

Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom … of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Which amendment was that? The First Amendment. So, the founders of this nation felt quite strongly about it, empowering one to declare that protesting for redress of grievances is one of the most American things you can do. If you are the police, pause and reflect how great is the country whose Constitution endorses peaceful protests.

What do we actually expect from our police officers? To protect the peace and arrest the bad guys, I presume. But also, to be armed with lethal force that they can use when necessary. That part clearly requires training on how and when to use (and not use) the power of your weapons. The rigorous Minneapolis Police Academy training lasts 4 months. The slightly more rigorous NYC Police Academy lasts 6 months.

Yet to become a certified pastry chef at a prestigious culinary academy requires 8 months. The perfect croissant demands it. So maybe, just maybe, police recruits could benefit from a bit more training before becoming officers.

In 1991, Rodney King (age 25) was struck dozens of times, while on the ground, by four LAPD officers, with their batons, after being tased. The grainy 1990s video of that went media-viral, inducing shock and dismay to any viewer.

But I wasn’t shocked at all.

Based on what I already knew of the world, my first thought was, “We finally got one of those on tape.” Followed by, “Maybe justice will be served this time.” Yes, that’s precisely my first thought. Why? Since childhood my parents instilled in me and my siblings, via monthly, sometimes weekly lessons, rules of conduct to avoid getting shot by the police. “Make sure that when you get stopped, the officer can always see both of your hands.” “No sudden movements.” “Don’t reach into your pockets for anything without announcing this in advance.” “When you move at all, tell the officer what you are about to do.” At the time, I am a budding scientist in middle school, just trying to learn all I can about the universe. I hardly ever think about the color of my skin—it never comes up when contemplating the universe. Yet when I exit my front door, I’m a crime suspect. Add to this the recently coined “White Caller Crime,” where scared white people call the police because they think an innocent black person is doing something non-innocent, and it’s a marvel that any of us achieve at all.

The rate of abuse? Between one and five skin-color-instigated incidents per week, for every week of my life. White people must have known explicitly if not implicitly of this struggle. Why else would the infamous phrase, “I’m free, white, and 21” even exist? Here is a compilation of that line used in films across the decades. Yes, it’s offensive. But in America, it’s also truthful. Today’s often-denied “white privilege” accusation was, back then, openly declared.

The deadly LA riots associated with the Rodney King incident are often remembered as a response to the beating. But no. Los Angeles was quiet for 13 months afterward. Everyone had confidence, as did I, that the video was just the kind of evidence needed to finally bring about a conviction in the abuse of power. But that’s not what came to pass. The riots were a response to the acquittal of the four officers in the incident, and not to the incident itself. And what is a riot if not the last act of helpless desperation.

The 1989 film by Spike Lee “Do the Right Thing,” which explored 1980s black-white-police tensions in Brooklyn, New York, ends with a dedication to the families of six people. Eleanor Bumpers (age 66), Michael Griffith (age 23), Arthur Miller (age 30), Edmund Perry (age 17), Yvonne Smallwood (age 28), and Michael Stewart (age 25). All are black. One was killed by a white mob. The rest were unarmed and shot by police or otherwise died while in police custody. All deaths occurred within the 10 years preceding film, and all occurred in New York City. None of the police-induced deaths resulted in convictions, as continues to be true for 99% of all police killings.

We know of these events because they each ended in death. But even so, back then, it was just local news. Was this just NYC’s problem? I asked myself. But for every police-related death anywhere, how many unarmed victims are shot by police and don’t die, or are wrongfully maimed or injured? Most of those cases didn’t even make the local news. But if you lived there, you knew. We all knew. For what it’s worth, NYC now has the lowest police-caused death rate per capita among the sixty largest cities in the US. Is it that extra two months training in the Police Academy?

The corrosion and ultimate erosion of our confidence in the legal system in cases such as these, even in the face of video evidence, has spawned a tsunami of protests. With sympathetic demonstrations across the United States and around the world. If the threat of prison time for this behavior does not exist—acting as a possible deterrent—then the behavior must somehow stop on its own.

Some studies show that the risk of death for an unarmed person at the hands of the police is approximately the same no matter the demographics of who gets arrested. Okay. But if your demographic gets stopped ten times more than others, then your demographic will die at ten times the rate. I suppose we first have to get the bias factor down to zero, but then there’s still the matter of police killing unarmed suspects, white people included.

I talk a lot. But I don’t talk much about any of this, or the events along this path-of-most-resistance that have shaped me. Why? Because throughout my life I’ve used these occasions as launch-points to succeed even more. Yes, I parlayed the persistent rejections of society, which today might be called micro-aggressions, into reservoirs of energy to achieve. I learned that from my father, himself active in the Civil Rights Movement during the 1950s and 1960s.

In a way, I am who I am precisely because countless people, by their actions or inactions, said I could never be what I am. But what if you don’t have this deep supply of fuel? What becomes of you? Who from historically disenfranchised communities, including women, LGBTQ+, and anybody of color, are missing—falling shy of their full potential because they ran out of energy and gave up trying.

Are things better today than yesterday? Yes. But one measure of this truth is a bit perverse. Decades ago, unarmed black people getting beaten or killed by the police barely merited the local news. But now it’s national news—even breaking news—no matter where in the country it occurs.

So how to change all this? Organizations have surely assembled demands for police departments. Here, I offer a list of my own, for policy experts to consider:

Extend police academies to include months of cultural awareness and sensitivity training that also includes how not to use lethal force.

Police officers should all be tested for any implicit bias they carry, with established thresholds of acceptance and rejection from the police academy. We all carry bias. But most of us do not hold the breathing lives of others in our hands when influenced by it.

During protests, protect property and lives. If you attack nonviolent protesters you are being un-American. And you wouldn’t need curfews if police arrested looters and not protesters.

If fellow officers are behaving in a way that is clearly unethical or excessively violent, and you witness this, please stop them. Someone will get that on video, and it will give the rest of us confidence that you can police yourselves. In these cases, our trust in you matters more to a civil society than how much you stick up for each other.

And here’s a radical idea for the Minneapolis Police Department—why not give George Floyd the kind of full-dress funeral you give each other for dying in the line of duty? And vow that such a death will never happen again.

Lastly, when you see black kids, think of what they can be rather than what you think they are.

Respectfully Submitted

Neil deGrasse Tyson — trying hard to Keep Looking Up.

#neil degrasse tyson #reflections on the color of my skin #reflections #black lives matter #justiceforfloyd #blm movement #blm #support blm #science #george floyd #justice for black lives #justice for poc #no justice no peace #know justice know peace #white silence is violence #physics #amerikkka #blacklivesmatter

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

Waddle waddle - Spencer

i am back with another fic after like a week of not writing i think! idk i just know it’s been a little while. this one is just a cute fluffy story that doesn’t really go anywhere, it’s just for fun as a request. it’s so cute to write these adorable fluffy pieces!!

request: Spencer’s wife, who is 6 months pregnant, walks into the office because Spencer forgot his lunch. No one knew Spencer had a girlfriend, much less a wife that’s pregnant, because he wanted to keep his family safe.

warnings: i’m too lazy to proof reid (get it?) so probably some mistakes. other than that, it’s fluff

_______________

There wasn’t a case today. Oddly enough, it was paperwork day. So all the case files everyone let pile up were sitting on their desks and ready to be assessed.

Spencer was talking to Hotch in his office about something important so he wasn’t sitting at his desk. They had been sitting there talking for a while so he didn’t expect a visitor. Everyone else was going through their own cases, occasionally cracking jokes with each other and getting second opinions.

Meanwhile, Garcia was on her way to her office when she noticed a very pregnant woman sitting in Spencer’s desk chair. To Penelope, she seemed very out of place and something felt like it was wrong.

“Hi, can I help you?” Garcia asked you, distracting you from answering a text from your best friend.

“No, that’s okay. I’m just waiting on SSA Dr. Reid.” You said, smiling.

You took in the sight that was Penelope Garcia. She was wearing a black dress covered in small rainbows to match the rainbows on her headband and in her hair.

“Oh. Well Reid should be down in a second. Is there anything I can get you while we wait?” Garcia asked, trying to restrain herself from asking about the baby.

“No, that’s okay. I can just wait here.” You said, spinning side to side in the chair. “I’m not in a rush.”

Garcia smiled at you one more time before quickly walking up to Morgan and Spencer, who were still discussing one of Morgan's profiles outside of Hotch’s office.

“Boy wonder, there’s a very pregnant lady at your desk and-” Garcia was cut off by Spencer running past her with a worried look on his face.

You were just scrolling Facebook when Spencer came up to you, kneeling on one knee in front of you.

“Is everything alright? Are you okay? How’s baby Reid?” Spencer said, frantically.

“We’re fine, sweetie.” You chuckled. “You forgot your lunch so I decided to bring it to you. I’m sure no one suspects anything since I’m a visitor and I’m sure you guys get visitors all the time about cases from what you tell me.”

“Oh.” Spencer put a hand on your thigh to balance himself as he exhaled. “I was so worried as soon as Garcia told me there was a pregnant lady at my desk.”

“She’s more colorful than I expected her to be.” You said, smiling.

Spencer smiled with you. He loved to see you happy and excited. There was such a length of time when you weren’t as happy and it killed him inside to know that there was nothing he could do while you suffered. But now, everything was balanced again.

“They’re talking about us.” Spencer said, pointing in the direction of the team upstairs.

“Should I go? You should look gravely serious like something is wrong.” You said, whispering.

Garcia walked by again, staring at the two of you.

“I was thinking… It’s been 5 years of us being married. I know I said I didn’t want anyone to know, because I want to keep you safe at all times, but maybe this is the opportunity to get a couple things off my chest with the team.” Spencer said, tentatively.

“Oh.” You said, surprised.

You heard all about the BAU team from stories and knew they were Spencer’s family outside of you and baby Reid but you never thought you would meet them. You didn’t think you’d do more than hear about them until Spencer retired.

At the beginning of the relationship, you didn’t really understand. You thought he was just another guy who had commitment issues and didn’t want to show you off to anyone. He was already old school and wasn’t on any social media but he didn’t mind you posting the pictures you posted of him of your social media because he didn’t understand how it worked for a while. Once he learned, he still didn’t mind because it made you happy to show him off. You gave him a chance and you began to understand he just wanted to keep you safe.

“Is that okay?” Spencer asked, reading your body language as it shifted from happy to uncomfortable.

“Well, they don’t even know about us so I don’t want it to be uncomfortable.” You said.

“It won’t be. There will be some shock but it won’t be bad.” Spencer smiled. “Come on, it’s my turn to show you off.”

Spencer grabbed both of your hands and pulled you up, chuckling as you wobbled a little bit from the motion. You walked towards the team, holding Spencer’s hand, much to the surprise of the team.

“Garcia, can you have everyone meet us in the bullpen?” Spencer said, noticing Garcia walk past the two of you for the third time.

“You got it.” She said, quickly walking to find the rest of the team.

“Let’s go to the room.” Spencer walked with you to the glass room, leading you to a chair in front of a screen mounted on the wall.

You sat down with a small groan and Spencer smiled. He loved everything about being there for your pregnancy.

Everyone entered the room with concerned and confused faces. Spencer stood there, smiling the whole time, which confused them even more. Spencer never presented cases and even moreso, there was a nervous woman sitting in front of them. Hotch was the last to enter the room, closing the door behind him.

“I have something to confess.” Spencer started. “But before that, I want you to meet y/n.”

Everyone looked at each other oddly. They knew this wasn’t bad, otherwise Spencer would be solemn. He was beaming right now.

“Reid, the confession.” Hotch said, straight faced as ever.

“Yes.” Spencer said, trying to make his face serious but he failed because he was so excited. “I’ve been hiding something for the past 5 years and I feel like it’s time to finally be honest.”

Everyone was still confused. They kept looking between Spencer and you.

“I want everyone to meet my wife, y/n and baby Reid.” Spencer said, putting his hand on your shoulder.

You looked around the room at everyone’s faces. Silence and astonishment hung in the quiet air as everything sunk in for the team.

“Boy wonder married a very beautiful lady and has a baby wonder on the way!” Garcia was the first to move.

You stood up with another groan as she held her arms out for a hug. Slowly, it sank in for the rest of the team. They each moved from their chairs and walked over to hug Spencer and meet you for the first time. They welcomed the distraction from their paperwork to celebrate rather than look at more photos of murder. Soon, the team was welcoming you with open arms and smiling faces.

“And here I was thinking that pretty boy would never find himself a pretty girl. He already had one!” Morgan said, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder with a smile.

“How far along are you?” JJ asked you as she, Emily, and Garcia formed a semi circle around you.

“Six months.” You said, rubbing your very full belly.

After cracking a few jokes and meeting everyone, no one could believe that Spencer managed to keep you away for so long.

“So all that extra coffee and long nights were for this pretty lady here?” Morgan asked, gesturing towards you.

“All for her.” Spencer said, beaming at you.

“I think we can all appreciate the sentiment behind Reid’s decision but in the future, I would appreciate it if you would disclose sensitive information like this.” Hotch said, partially smiling.

Everyone was so happy to See Spencer happy for once. The boy had gone through so much trouble and trauma that it was a nice change of pace. They could tell he really loved you and you were still head over heels for him. From your body language to the way that you always glanced over at him, it was something special to the two of you.

“Oh goodness.” You said, clutching your stomach.

Spencer immediately looked concerned as soon as he heard you groan, thinking something was wrong.

“What’s happening?” Spencer said, quickly guiding you to a chair.

You grabbed his arm and put it on your stomach where he could feel little movements. The tears immediately pooled in his eyes as he looked at you. He was never around when the baby started shifting and kicking at the same time every day so this was his first time feeling it. The tears rolled down his cheeks and everyone on the team was so in love.

They were in love with you, in love with the way Spencer connected with you and in love with their boy wonder’s joy. The baby was kicking for a while so everyone got to feel it while all you felt was annoyed that it took so long for the baby to finish shifting. They must have sensed all the attention on the outside.

“Okay baby, I need a nap.” You said once everyone slowly started leaving the room to get back to paperwork.

You and Spencer were left in the room alone at this point.

“I love you so much. Thank you for bringing me lunch.” He said, hand on the side of your face.

He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you up.

He told Hotch that he would be back in a bit but he was going to make sure you got home safe. That’s all he wanted, honestly. To protect you and at the end of the day, know you’re safe.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Life after the fact

CW: mentions of some nasty stuff related to kids.

First part: Here

For the next few days you were a mess. Between the morning sickness and the guilt of having murdered someone, you were throwing up every bit of food or water you tried to digest, every shadow and small noise in your crappy, dirt cheap apartment at night sent you into a break down, sickened more with fear and the force of your sobs when you got overwhelmed. You never felt like you could relax, everything was nerve-wracking, and especially when you went outside. However, as the weeks passed, you got a handle on your fears. You weren't exactly okay, but you forced yourself to adjust and move on as best you could. As if the paranoia wasn't enough, you also had to deal with being pregnant on your own now. Oh god, I should've just stayed with Illumi! What the hell am I supposed to do about this whole thing?! You thought one night as you sat in your windowless bathroom, curled around the toilet, vomitting from the nerves, nausea, and violent sobbing, I wish I could just go back...apologize and just go back to the way things were. you lamented as you sucked in shakey, cold breaths that burnt your throat. It wasn't like you'd planned this far ahead, your escape attempt was a heat of the moment thing, fuelled by the fear of what might happen after you gave birth and the gut feeling that your partner would doom your child to a life akin to his own, which was definitely not a normal, healthy, or happy one. So, now you were left to suffer the last, stubborn thrashes of winter alone, in a crappy little apartment with walls so thin you could feel the last icy wind of winter when it blew, struggling with pregnancy symptoms and relentless paranoia of what will happen if or when Illumi finds you. After that night, you decided it was best to do what you could to lessen your stress, but that was easier said then done. For one, no matter the steps you took to ensure your safety, taking jobs great distances from where you live, whipping up a fake identity to use for work, limiting how often you went out, you could never fully convince yourself that you were safe from the Zoldyck family. Another thing that stopped you was your financial situation. You managed to nab a bit of cash from the car you'd stolen from the butler, using most of it on a cheap car, but, while a reasonable amount still, you still ended up taking up a job as a maid-for-hire of sorts, and usually your employers would tip you terrifically when they figured out you were pregnant, but with the gas bill, food, and the sketchy amount of rent you had to pay, you had little to nothing left to save for a better place or the baby. Finally, you realized after looking into it at one of your employer's homes during your break, that you were too far along in your pregnancy for termination, since at that point you were somewhere in your fourth month, so that left you with almost no other option than to find a way to give birth. After that, you just settled for having the child at home to avoid the paper trail a doctor's office would need and than leaving the baby at a church. They'll take the kid in and put it into foster care, which is a safer gamble than the Zoldycks. You thought, wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes as you drove to the day's job. For the remainder of the day, you focused on your work, cleaning up toys, doing and folding laundry, making beds, the usual duties for this particular household, and did your best to not think about your past. That is, until you heard someone knock on the door while you were upstairs mopping the bathroom. The sound instantly sent ice down your spine. It felt as if the world skipped a beat in time with your heart, but at another knock, you took a deep breath and inched towards the distant door. Your heart thundered in your chest so hard that it hurt, but you picked your way down, staying away from the windows and doing your best to move stealthily with the slowly growing bump of your stomach until you could look out of the front door's peep hole. Thank the heavens it was simply your employer, a neatly dressed, glasses clad woman who you'd heard was a lawyer or CEO of some sort, not an assassin. So, just as she gave a third, more impatient knock, you opened the door, "I'm so sorry ma'am! I couldn't move too quickly to get to the door sooner," you said, not meaning to sound near hysterics, but at least that made you sound super apologetic as the woman huffed in annoyance, "It's fine, I just had my entire day upheaved." she said, walking in and you swiftly shut the door, not thinking much of the figure you saw standing at the roadside from the corner of your eye, she commonly had other helpers here when you were, it was likely just a gardener or someone to bring in her bags. "First, I burn myself with coffee at 6 am this morning, than I have to drive three damned hours to the airport just to find out my business trip was cancelled because the client decided to cut ties with my work! Ugh, don't get me started on tr-" The woman paused her ranting and hair adjustments suddenly, looking at you with concern and confusion on her dark-skinned face, "Are you alright, dear? Why are you crying?" Her voice was gentle, all annoyance gone when she'd realized you were upset, but it still made you jump and feel a small spark of guilt at the show of vulnerability, something you'd been fighting to repress. But your emotions had been so unpredictable recently, it only made sense that you failed. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me," you sniffed, scrubbing at your tears as she put a reassuring hand on your back and led you to a chair, letting you sit down, "Don't worry about it, I just thought I was the one to upset you. Are you sure you're alright?" You nodded as she looked you over, looking so parental and compassionate, it made your heart hurt. And just like that, even more tears were falling onto your clothes as a sharp knife of loneliness cut through you. You did your best to at least slow the streams of tears, but seeing this woman you hardly knew be so motherly and understanding reminded you of your own mother, or maybe those times Kikyo had helped you through the beginnings of morning sickness or nausea. Either way, your boss' actions hit a chord and now you were trying not to bawl while she offered you tissues and talked you down from the hormonal extreme. "I see now, must be the pregnancy talking." she laughed a little, "when I was expecting my eldest, the mood swings never really left, and just about anything would set me off. I remember one time, my husband had made me breakfast and I ended up sobbing over it for a good five minutes while he was just mortified." she said, giving you a comforting smile when you weakly laughed. Finally, when you were past the violent sobs, your boss helped you up and led you to the kitchen so you could splash some water on your face and she could get you some tea to help you relax. Once you were settled down at the table, warm cup of tea between your hands, your boss sat at the table with you and let you take a few sips before asking, "So, do you have any plans set for the baby?" she asked, and you felt her warm eyes drawing out all of your issues. You started out pretty vague, admitting you weren't really sure of what to do, but that soon led to you going into detail about how you didn't think you'd be keeping the child and probably putting them up for adoption since you couldn't afford them. You told her that you felt so bad for the decision, but you didn't want to raise your child in poverty or worsen their quality of life in general, which your boss understood, laying her dark hand on yours soothingly as you spoke. For the next hour or so, you sat with the woman and she helped you through all of your options. You told her that the father of the child wasn't the best, so she explained good ways to limit contact and how to keep track of every instance of neglect, abuse, or anything of the sort just in case things required lawyers and courts. By the time you'd left her home for the day, you were feeling much better about your situation, and while your plans to put the baby up for adoption hadn't changed, you were much more confident in the steps to go about it. You kept that job for two or three more trips, telling your boss of your plans to stop after that. She understood perfectly and made sure your pay was doubled, "Pretty soon you'll come up on being six months, you won't be able to do a lot in your third trimester." she pointed out after you refused to accept her money, but that wasn't the only kind thing she did for you. No, on your second to last job with her family she had basically spun you around at the door and herded you out to her car. "I understand you're trying to keep as low a profile as possible, but I can't in good conscious not have that child checked on." she told you as she drove you to a check up, patting your hand and just letting you bawl, but she refused to let you apologize for her helping. In fact, when you thought back on the drive after the appointment, she seemed somewhat sad, but you couldn't exactly place why and on the drive back you didn't want to ask and open an old wound. So, you simply didn't say anything about it and went home that night with knowledge that so far your baby seemed fine, and a tip from your boss to find some time to relax more, "Make sure to destress as best you can, it's good for your mental health and the baby." she advised, as motherly as ever. So, you decided on your drive home to give that advice a shot. At least once. So, after your last job with that family, while spring time was beginning to really settle in outside, leaving a crisp but fresh feeling night in the wake of a lukewarm day, you had borrowed a book from a neighbor and ran yourself a warm bath to hopefully relax in, even if you likely wouldn't be able to get out of it super easily when bedtime rolled around. Despite that fact, sinking into the warm water felt like heaven to your aching back, breasts, and hips. So, you relaxed in the water for a long while, two hours or so, just reading the book and occasionally putting your hand on your belly to feel the baby kick. The only thing that could've made the night better was if you had some scented candles and maybe a shoulder rub, but you were content with settling for this. All around, the night was near perfect, and that was somewhat because you refused to let your anxiety at the little creaks of your floor or the sounds of your neighbors opening their own doors in the ratty old hall destroy your good time. Eventually, you did get out of the cooled water with some work and got dressed in your comfiest clothes before going to bed, feeling rather happy and relaxed, and thus falling asleep rather quickly. That night, you had quite the weird dream. You weren't a stranger to nightmares about Illumi or the Zoldycks, but this dream was much more melancholy. At the start, it was pretty normal, a nonsensical flurry of dream-logic-fuelled, stream of consciousness, but than things got a bit easier to follow, and the dream took a turn from non-sense, to a bittersweet dream of laying in bed with Illumi again, letting him feel your belly and generally being happy with an undertone of 'something's off' to it. When you woke up the next day you were hit with a tsunami of yearning for that scenario, or any scenario that meant you got cuddled and comforted, and didn't feel so crushingly alone. For the twentieth time since the beginning of the month, you thought of returning to the Zoldyck estate, or at least making it easier for your fiance to find you, but than your common sense kicked in to stomp out that fantasy. No! If I go back my life will be more than just miserable boredom and restrictions. It'll become worse than hell! Illumi will be pissed beyond belief and will probably do something extreme to me! Your fearful inner voice had a point, Illumi had already threatened you when you'd asked to go out without him that day, he'd undoubtedly do worse to you for not only trying to run, but staying gone for so long and putting your baby under so much stress. Oh god, what would he do if I miscarry? The mere thought of his reaction was enough to settle the debate. You'd stay gone. You'd put up with the apartment that smelled of wet dogs and smoke, the paper thin walls, the exorbitant rent, you'd leave your baby at a church once they were born, and you'd go off the grid. If you could help it, you'd never go back to face Illumi and his family.

#Illumi x reader #sequel #outrunning obsessions #hxh #hunter x hunter #x reader #sequelette #Illumi zoldyck #fanfiction #quotev

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skrltwtch · 3 years

Text

Silverware

Prompt: on a first date and A is a werewolf and doesn’t know the cutlery is silver (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,897 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I buried my nose in the bouquet of lilies and roses Jake had bought for me. It was the perfect emblem of summer with its warm, sunny hues and fresh, tangy scent — and the perfect segue to the next part of our date. The first part was a visit to the local farmers market, out of which we were now walking. Coming here had been his suggestion. It was something different from the usual first date stuff like coffee or a movie, and I liked it a lot, notwithstanding my initial reservations. I liked him a lot after what I’d seen of him at the market. I felt like the place helped bring out a certain spark between us. For one, there was constant talk about planning for date number two using what we’d seen and bought. If that wasn’t promising, I didn’t know what was!

‘Thank you, Jake. I love it,’ I said about the bouquet.

‘You’re most welcome,’ he said, a broad grin brightening up his face. ‘And thank you for the flavoured olive oil. Makes me kind of wish we didn’t have this dinner reservation …’ His grin turned sheepish in nature. ‘But that’s what’s making me look forward to our next date.’

See?

‘Do you want to call for a taxi or walk?’ he said.

‘What time’s our reservation?’

‘6:00 p.m. on the dot.’

My watch came alive with a flick of my wrist. ‘Let’s walk, then. I want to walk off all the cheese I sampled.’ I’d sampled a lot. In my defence, it was almost that time of the month — and that other time of the month. ‘Do you know the way?’

‘Google Maps can teach me.’

The route Google Maps recommended was scenic. London Bridge looked lovely at this time of day. Its appeal was heightened tenfold with Jake by my side. Could you believe we met on Tinder? It still felt unreal to me. Getting this match used up all my good luck for the year, and we were only at the halfway point. Well, if it meant burning the roof of my mouth most of the time I ate to be able to quit the dating scene for a reasonable amount of time (“once and for all” seemed a little ambitious, though that would be nice), who was I to whinge about the hand fate had dealt me?

The restaurant was located within the Four Seasons. We had been overdressed for the market. Now we were … dressed. I was flattered as fuck that he picked such a lavish place for dinner for a first date. I hadn’t the faintest clue what it was about my profile and our conversations that made him think of a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel. I did try to talk him out of it (gently). It wasn’t about the cost. Food was one of the things I was more than happy to splurge on. It was just … I never had anyone think this highly of me before, and I wondered if that’d change if … and when … he knew the truth about me.

The host led us into the main dining room and to our table. An amuse-bouche and warm bread came together with the menus. The prices were as expected of the type of establishment this was. Everything sounded good, though this was my first time coming across some of these words. Looking up what each one meant would add to the time something would take to reach our table, and my stomach would sooner eat itself out of desperation.

‘Please don’t hold back,’ said Jake, sensing my indecision. ‘The price is not an issue.’

I did have to hold back. The coincidental timing of this month’s full moon and crimson tide amplified every-fucking-thing I could possibly feel to a divinely hellish degree in the days leading up to them. As it was, I could easily polish off a five-course meal by myself. If Jake wanted this date to go in a less chaste direction after dinner, hell would freeze over before I’d even dream of talking him out of it, first date etiquette be damned. Was the fact that he was such a goddamn catch helping anything? Absolutely fucking not.

‘No, it’s not that. I can’t — I can’t decide what I want,’ I said. It was technically true. I was torn between the beef (never mind that it was £98) and veal … and both of them at once. ‘What are you having? Maybe I can get some inspiration from you.’

‘I was thinking the turbot … or the pigeon. Yeah, I can’t make up my mind either. I’m leaning toward the pigeon …? No, the turbot. Or the scallops …? Fuck. I need an adult.’

‘Let’s choose for each other.’

‘Promise not to hate each other’s choices — or each other?’

‘Pinky promise.’

We locked our pinkies together. I hoped touching him would never grow old.

Once our promise had been sanctified and we separated from each other, Jake signalled for the nearest available waitstaff. One came over almost instantly. The restaurant was bustling with activity, a far cry from however long it had been since we arrived. She took our order in a cordial fashion, not making a bigger deal of how we were ordering for each other than it should be. I chose the scallops for him; he chose the veal for me. I convinced him to start our evening with the langoustine; he sweet-talked me into ending it with the rhubarb. The waitstaff validated all our choices with a knowing smile.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask — and I hope I’m not stepping on your toes here,’ Jake started when our table was just the two of us again. ‘How did you get that scar on your arm?’

It was a matter of time. And bless him. I would never be offended by being asked about the memento of what’d changed my life forever. I would be offended by an adverse reaction to how exactly my life had been changed forever. I raised my arm, giving the scar in question its time in the limelight: brownish-pink, leathery circles arranged in the shape of a crescent, the ones at both ends abnormally large and ragged-looking.

‘My ex-boyfriend’s dog bit me,’ I said. More like my ex-boyfriend was the offending canine. ‘That’s not why he’s an ex, in case you were wondering.’ I’d wanted to be turned. He’d been more than happy to lend a helping set of fangs. Sadly, the idea of us being cute werewolves together was yet another one of those things that simply sounded nicer on paper. It wasn’t all sour between us. We’d sometimes meet for romps. It got lonely sometimes, and it wasn’t like there was an online forum for werewolves to socialise or whatever. I doubted he’d have known of one anyway: he was literally an American werewolf in London.

‘Did it hurt? It’s such a huge scar. Did anything happen to the dog afterward?’ He held up his hands. ‘Am I being nosy? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

I smiled in the hope that it’d soothe his worries. ‘You’re not being nosy. It was … okay for what it was.’ Euphoric. ‘The dog’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to punish it for an instinct thing.’ Yup.

‘That’s good to hear. I think it’s a bad-ass scar. And I didn’t think it’s why he’s an ex.’

‘Thank you. Most people did. Yeesh. Give me some credit.’

‘I’m not most people … I hope.’ He smirked. The apples of his cheeks turned pink.

He really wasn’t. And I wanted so badly to tell him the truth there and then to see if that’d still hold true in the face of a bombshell like that. I had yet to tell anyone about my lycanthropy: if movies, television shows, books, etc., were anything to go by, I’d assume most people would react with fear or disgust, or both. Chris had been thoroughly flabbergasted when I reacted the way I did to learning why he always turned down my suggestions to go stargazing on nights with full moons. I got what I wanted … eventually.

Maybe I should tell Jake sooner than later. Separate the wheat from the chaff. Then I wouldn’t have wasted my time having pined for someone who thought I was some kind of freak of nature.

That conversation — or rather, thinking about that conversation would have to wait, as our starter, bearing a strong resemblance to a flower arrangement with colours befitting the season, had arrived. Food was always the perfect diversion. So would the inevitable back-and-forth about who could have the third and last langoustine. Splitting it was not an option, for one piece was as big as my thumb. I loved the portion sizes of frou-frou fancy food. So much bang for one’s buck.

‘Bon appétit,’ said Jake. ‘That’s one of … four French phrases I know. The other three are “bonjour”, “omelette du fromage”, and — I can’t say the last one in a public place.’

‘Is it by any chance … “voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir”?’ I made no effort whatsoever to lower my volume — or maintain a straight face. Brazenness blazed through my cheeks.

He put a hand on his chest, feigning surprise. ‘Well!’ He tittered. ‘Since you asked ever so nicely, and in French … This is why your choices tonight have been shellfish, isn’t it?’

‘You got me.’

‘Looking at their portion sizes, I don’t think your plan’s going to work very well. Not that I’d need the help of — shut up, Jake.’

‘Keep going, Jake’ was what I’d have said and wanted if my stomach hadn’t started getting on my case for letting good food get cold. (‘Rubbery lobster? Gross!’) There was something hot about someone like Jake — a posh, proper Englishman, the polar opposite of Chris … okay, no, stop bringing him up, stop thinking about him, goddammit — talking openly, confidently, about his prowess. Such words … coming out of his mouth … in that accent … I quickly pressed my legs together to quell any desires. Which hunger of mine was responsible for this?

Wanting to satiate the one appetite I could at this very moment without earning myself prison time for my troubles, I said, ‘Bon appétit, Jake’, and picked up my fork … which promptly fell onto my plate with the fucking loudest clang. The smell of burning flesh tickled my nostrils — my burning flesh. My fingers were sizzling where the fork touched them. Sizzling! I prayed it was only my nose that could pick up this delectable aroma.

I stared at the cutlery. Trust a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel to use real silverware, not that cheap silver-plated shit. I prodded the fork handle — and withdrew my finger immediately. Not one of my finer moments. Please don’t tell me Jake saw it.

‘Is everything okay?’ said Jake.

Ah, fuck.

‘Yeah,’ I said, examining my palm. Good news: the burn hadn’t healed and wasn’t healing as quickly as my wounds and injuries (not that I had many of them) did after I was turned, so that was one less question to dodge. I didn’t want to keep lying to Jake. I didn’t like that I had been. How would I explain the absence of a second-degree burn that existed mere seconds ago anyway? Bad news: was this never going to heal because of what caused it? I had been so careful with silver since I was turned. How would I explain a perpetual second-degree burn? Would it out me as a werewolf to people who knew what to look for? Was now really the time for Twenty Questions?

Noticing Jake had been waiting on me to provide some kind of elucidation on my well-being, I said, ‘I guess I have a silver allergy. Can you believe it? Who’s allergic to silver?’

He didn’t need to say, ‘What kind of allergy burns someone?’ for me to hear it in my head.

‘Can you eat, then?’ he said.

I shook my head. As far as I was concerned, silver was lethal. No ifs, no buts, no maybes. If a perpetual second-degree burn was the worst thing to come out of fleeting contact with the metal, so be it. I’d consider myself a lucky lycan indeed.

‘Pardon me,’ Jake said to the waitstaff who’d come with our entrées, ‘would you have any disposable cutlery perhaps? My lady’ — he did not — ‘is allergic to the silverware.’

The waitstaff did an excellent job of not acting like this very dashing gentleman had just dropped the barmiest string of words on her during her entire employment in this line of work. Even I didn’t quite believe it myself. ‘I’ll see what we have, sir, ma’am,’ she said, cool as a cucumber. After she finished setting down our food, she collected all the silverware on my side of the table and left.

‘I don’t think whatever she comes back with would help with your veal. I could cut it up for you?’ said Jake.

Oh, my God. Getting burnt by silver must be the universe’s way of course-correcting the unusual jackpot I’d hit with him. Good Tinder matches were a myth!

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’ll manage … somehow,’ I said. The wooden cutlery the waitstaff had returned with didn’t inspire confidence in me to not fling a piece of meat or a utensil at someone while cutting into my food.

‘We could swap dishes. I’d be fine with the veal. It was in my top five earlier.’

I suffocated a sigh. His scallops looked more like an appetiser than a main. But what choice did I have? I could either eat the veal like the animal that put me in this position or go through the restaurant’s entire supply of wooden cutlery with nothing to show for the effort in my belly and possibly injure someone in the process. Neither option would do any favours for my image in the eyes of the guy I liked and whose bones I’d like to jump at some point, enhanced animal lust or not.

So, I agreed. I tried to draw out the meal for as long as I could. Between the teeny serving and the unwieldiness of the wooden cutlery, I was having a miserable time. Dinner had become a silent affair, a far cry from everything prior to this point. Contrary to the vibe I was putting out, the food had nothing to do with my dour mood. For the first time since I was turned, I wasn’t happy about what I was. Could I never truly lead a normal life? Did I have to lie to every potential suitor and fret about whether they’d accept that other side of me on top of all the intricacies of dating?

There ought to be a dating app for verified supernatural creatures.

‘How’s the veal?’ I said. I had to speak up: I wasn’t being fair to Jake by acting like a sullen teenager over something he had zero control over, and the silence was deafening.

‘It’s — I might’ve done you a favour. How about my — your scallops?’

‘As good as three bites can get. I can’t tell if it tastes funny because of the wooden fork.’

‘This has been a disaster, hasn’t it?’ He flashed a wry smile. ‘Can I be honest? I have no idea what possessed me to pick a place like this for a first date.’

‘It’s a nice place. And it hasn’t been a disaster.’ If anything, I was the disaster. As always.

‘How was the market?’

‘The market was great. I had an amazing time.’

‘Thank God. I’ll take one out of two.’

I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of his. He made things extra saucy by interlocking his fingers with mine. ‘Jake, it’s fine. Today has been wonderful. I should be sorry for making things awkward with my … allergy.’ Nope, that still sounded silly.

‘What? No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.’

It … kind of was.

‘How about ice cream after this? My treat. I’m certain the rhubarb will be so very pretty and so very … nothing.’

He hit the nail on the head. The food we had would do wonders for my Instagram feed while having done nothing for my diet. I appreciated his offer, though I was afraid it would take more than ice cream to fill me up properly … Then again, that was a problem that rested solely in my dominion, not his, and it was one I intended to solve by trawling the likes of Deliveroo and Uber Eats in the comfort of my underthings at home — the one true way to enjoy food.

I asked for the bill the second dessert arrived. I wanted to leave here as soon as possible. I had quite enough of the wooden cutlery. I felt like a child using them. And like I told Jake earlier, I was on the fence about whether to attribute the food’s slightly off taste to them or my unrefined taste buds. Even the rhubarb wasn’t spared. Dessert was supposed to be my safe space, dammit!

I footed the bill in its entirety despite his objections. It helped that the waitstaff presented it to me because I’d been the one who asked, and that I was quick with my card. Sisters watching out for each other, everyone. The plan was then to go about the rest of the evening as if it had slipped my mind to ask him for his half or even bring it up in the first place. It was the least I could do for putting a wee damper on dinner with my … me-ness. He was going to treat me to ice cream anyway. There. We were even now.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often went awry: Jake snatched the bill folder and, taking out his phone, said, ‘Do you have Paym, Pingit, or PayPal? Why am I only noticing now that they all start with P?’

I admitted defeat: ‘Paym.’ It might be harder for him — or anyone — to believe I had none of those apps than that I was a werewolf. Did I want to put that to the test? No.

My phone buzzed with the confirmation that my plan had been a dud. ‘Thank you. Now let’s blow this popsicle stand and head to a real one.’

We left and worked on our next destination outside the restaurant. The staff had to want us out of there as much as we wanted ourselves out of there. The time of day meant we had limited options: ice cream parlours in London seemed to think people would lose the mood for sweet treats the moment the sky turned dark and the air cooled. Inanity. We had to return to where our date started for the one place that was open at this hour. It was just as well: I needed the walk this time to clear my head after what happened at dinner. It hadn’t seemed to dull the shine of his opinion of me, at least. He was as chipper as ever. Unless he was a good actor and paid up as soon as he did so he could ghost me after this and find himself a date that didn’t have some bogus allergy to silver …

Me? Over-thinking things? Never.

‘Do you want to do takeout or eat in?’ I said when we found ourselves less than fifty metres away from the parlour tasked with plying us with ice cream for tonight without a say in the matter.

‘Let’s do takeout and walk back to Borough Station. Full circle.’

The place was crowded: the most logical outcome for the only ice cream parlour open at this time near a tourist hotspot in the middle of summer. Customer turnover was quick, however, and we left with our orders within fifteen minutes. As tempting as their sundaes and waffles — towering, decadent creations of sugary indulgence — looked, we went back to the basics after our overly sophisticated dinner. Unlike before, what we wanted came to us in a snap: for myself, a speculoos gelato; for Jake, a gelato, too, but make it salted caramel.

And this time, we could help ourselves to each other’s food. With permission, of course.

‘A fraction of the price, but infinitely better,’ I said.

‘I hope the same can be said of our second date.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Dinner at Chez Walker. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘I do think so.’

‘It would have to be the weekend after next, though.’

‘Why? Got another date next Saturday?’ I had a firm enough grip on reality to recognise and accept that a guy like him had to be neck deep in matches.

‘No … next weekend’s the full moon. I thought you’d know.’

I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Why would I?’ I buried my stammer under a bemused scoff. Like, why would anyone — any not-werewolf, which, as far as Jake was concerned, was what I was — care to know when the full moon was?

He, too, stopped walking and looked me dead in the eye. ‘Imogen, I know what you are.’

I wiped my palms on the front of my dress. They were suddenly so sweaty. So sweaty. Why were they so sweaty? Could he see that they were so sweaty? I tried to defuse the situation the best — and maybe only — way I knew how: ‘Are we quoting Twilight? I’ll have you know that I liked the book when I first read it in 2007. And I thought the movie wasn’t too bad either.’ This was true, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. Any female millennial who said they had felt nothing for Edward Cullen was a filthy liar.

‘I’m not ashamed either to say I read the book and watched the movie. But I’m serious.’

‘Okay … say it, then. Go on.’ Was that how the line went? I wasn’t going to look it up now. On a list of things that mattered in this moment, accurate movie quotes was nowhere near the top twenty.

‘You’re a werewolf. And I know how this sounds, so don’t humour me or —’ His tone had taken on a jittery lilt, uncharacteristic of someone who ought to be humoured, ridiculed (what his next word had to be), or — my worst-case scenario — feared.

‘How did you know?’

His mien changed in a manner that suggested that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Fuck it. Chris had trusted me enough to tell me the truth after a handful of dates, and he did it because he liked me a lot and he wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that we could move on in some way. (Me asking him to turn me was the real curveball of that conversation.) The least I could do, really, was to extend that same courtesy to Jake. I liked him. I liked him a lot. If he had a problem with what I was, it was better that I found out now that he did than many months down the road. There was no element of compromise to my … condition.

‘You mean I’m —?’

‘Right? Not crazy?’ I showed him my palm. The burn had taken about an hour to reach the healing stage normal people would reach in a week or so. ‘Yeah.’

‘Damn …’ He cleared his throat. ‘How did I know? I was brought up on a steady diet of horror movies and read way too many young adult supernatural books in the day, more than I’d care to admit. That, and my ex-girlfriend’s second uncle was killed by a werewolf.’

‘Shit.’

‘I’m kidding — about the last part. The first two are true. My ex-girlfriend was a vampire, and one of her uncles — I can’t remember which one; it could’ve really been her second — was with a werewolf when we were together. Vampires and werewolves get along quite well, actually.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘How the tables have turned … I’m not.’ He went through his phone with his free hand and, upon finding what he’d been looking for, passed it to me. ‘Look.’

On the screen was a photo of him with his arm around a hazy figure in clothes that were otherwise in focus.

‘Drove me quite mad at first, thinking something was wrong with my phone. Then she went a little … overboard once, and the rest was history. She shared everything about her world — your world — with me. And I’m also in several online paranormal communities, so there’s that. It’s not all as hush-hush as one might think. It just takes an open mind.’

I returned his phone to him. ‘How did you figure me out?’

‘Your “allergy”. I had my suspicions about your scar. Your reaction to the silverware confirmed them. Allergies … don’t do this.’ He took my hand and stroked my palm. The sensation of his fingers on the raw skin was … electric. ‘I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position and you weren’t ready to tell me. What I said … just slipped out. I understand. It has to be fucking terrifying. It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again after this. But I want you to know that what you are doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. How you were turned is none of my business. The whole thing is, really. I did an arse thing. I’m an arse. First with the goddamn restaurant, now this. Way to fucking go, Walker,’ he said to himself quietly.

I flung my empty gelato container into the nearest bin, and then my arms around him. I helped throw away his for him, too. ‘You’re not an arse, Jake. This doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you, too. I like you a lot.’ His cheeks flushed deeply under the moonlight. ‘I was freaking out about this whole thing during dinner because I like you a lot. I am so relieved that we’ve gotten to lay our cards on the table.’ I fanned myself with my hand. Don’t cry, Imogen! ‘And because I don’t want there to be any more lies between us, it was my ex-boyfriend who turned me, and he did it because I wanted it.’

‘Oh. Yeah, it still doesn’t change a thing.’ His lips landed on my forehead in a peck. ‘Okay, I never imagined the topic of our exes would come up so often during our first date. Oh, well. Guess they had more of an impact on us than we’d like to think.’

‘Yeah’ — I chuckled, ‘let’s keep walking.’

I peeled myself off him. Our hands remained intertwined. Like dinner, the remaining walk — as short as it was — to the station was a quiet one. Unlike dinner, it was more so that we were simply basking, revelling, in the afterglow of our attraction to each other and each other’s presence. The world felt right again, just as it did at the farmers market.

The next time we spoke was on the train platform. ‘Thank you for the lovely time,’ I said, ‘and for being such a sweetheart.’ I waved my bouquet at him. It still looked pristine despite all the walking we did. ‘For everything.’

‘Thank you, too. I had an amazing time with you today. I can assure you that Chez Walker will serve larger portions than what we had earlier.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘The weekend after next, then?’

‘Yes,’ I said, grinning. ‘I’d be down for any time before the weekend, too, if Chez Walker is open then.’

‘I’ll speak with the chef.’

He moved in for a goodbye kiss, which I seized wholeheartedly. His smell and the sound of his heartbeat flooded my senses. I could feel his heart beating against his chest under my touch, thumping, thumping away for every second our lips lingered on each other’s. I had to contain myself and keep things G-rated and light, as such kisses were wont to be, though my instincts were screaming, baying, at me to get to satisfying at least one craving tonight. I was the one to break off the kiss for fear of going too far.

‘Just in time,’ said Jake, his eyes doing that thing they did whenever he smiled. ‘My train’s here. I’ll see you next week?’

‘I thought you said you’ll speak with the chef about next week.’

‘I realised I don’t care what the chef thinks. He’ll be fine with it anyhow: he doesn’t have to bust out the good silverware.’

‘Goodbye, Jake.’

‘See you, Imogen. Message me when you get home?’

‘I will.’

We waved at each other, right before the train doors swallowed him up. My train came soon after, too. I spent the entire ride home wondering not what to fill the void that was my stomach with, but what fresh hell the universe had in store for me in return for scoring me a guy like Jake.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine

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frenchbread-writes · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Reunion| {Enji Todoroki/Endeavor}

@unfaithfulmemories: Hi, I see that you are taking requests. Could I ask for an Endeavor x male reader Pro-hero that started dating Enji during their UA years but then Enji ghosted the reader and after a few years the reader decides to go on a dating app and reconnects with Enji without knowing it's him and it ends with a passionate night? Maybe a time skip where they are married and the reader adopts the Todoroki kids under his name

I MOVED ACCOUNTS

I’m so happy that you asked me to write about endeavor since he’s literally one of my favs

The story’s ending might be a bit eh but I’m proud of the overall story so I hope you still like it😊😊

Pairing: Endeavor x Male!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, implied NSFW

Requests: Closed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Hawks suggested that he should consider meeting someone after being single for an admittedly long amount of time, Enji promptly shut the smaller man down. Between trying to maintain his duties as the #1 Hero and fixing the rift he caused within his family, he had no time to even think of trying to enter the dating scene.

The #2 Hero still tried to convince him until He said how Endeavor was a quote: “Lonely old man who needed to get some.”

After that, the larger man snapped, glaring at the winged hero. Flames growing larger in anger as he growled out how “his love life was none of Hawks’ business” and then stomped out of the room.

But now there he was The Endeavor, sitting in his bedroom after his shift, on his phone staring at the dating app sign up screen, blushing. Cursing himself for acting so childish he finally started filling out his information into the required boxes.

It started off easy enough just the usual information:

Name: Enji Todoroki

Username: Endeavor#1

Gender, email, number, and password.

Though it was the last question that made him pause.

Sexual preference

It should be obvious, he liked women, but even having said that his finger still hovered over the screen. It didn’t feel right. He thought of his previous relationships, which was admittedly a small amount to remember, and.. Nothing.

He had felt no attraction to the people he had been with previously, even thinking of a woman’s body did nothing for him if anything, he felt the opposite of how he thought he should. But there was that one time in UA where he experimented, he dated another man it was only for a little while, about 2 months. He couldn’t remember his name but he could clearly remember those (e/c) eyes and how they made him feel. He felt heat prickle the top of his ears and spread down to the back of his neck.

He swallowed thickly and idled there for a few more moments staring at the screen before he took a deep breath and pressed the male option and pressed sign up before he could change his mind.

Now all that’s left is setting up his profile.

Description, he thought for a moment before typing:

“Looking for a romantic relationship with someone who can be independent and not a pushover.”

Now for photos.. how do you take decent photos?

He went through other profiles to see what kind of photos he should take.

The most common ones were selfies and.. shirtless mirror pictures. It’s ridiculous and he should delete the damn app and curse Hawks for giving him the idea in the first place.

But here he was, standing in his bathroom in front of the large mirror with his hero costume on flexing for the camera, the next few photos were of him with his flames turned off and without a shirt, and the last pictures were of him in a suit that hugged his body in all of the right places and showed off his muscles through the stretched fabric around his arms, chest, and thighs.

He stared at the photos he took and deleted the worst ones, being left with about 4 photos.

“Good enough.” He muttered as he uploaded them to his profile

now all that's left is to explore potential candidates worthy of being in a relationship with him.

Over the next few days not one person on the app piqued his interest in the slightest, and the ones who were brave enough to message him first were disregarded, they weren’t of any interest or not worthy of being spared even a second of his time.

He sighed as he shut off his phone and flopped onto his bed, dissatisfied and disappointed by his lack of success. He drifted off to sleep hoping to have more success.

He did not have more success. The men he met up with were either easily intimidated and had no backbone or were able to stand their ground and look him in the eye but immediately made their sleazy intentions clear, which is not what he was looking for and it clearly states in his description what the type of relationship he is interested in.

It wasn’t until a few more days passed he got a notification from the app as he walked out of his agency saying he was matched with another person, he grumbled and prepared to swipe it away but the name caught his eye, it seemed familiar but where had he seen it before?

He didn’t get a chance to think about it when he received a message.

“OMG Enji it’s actually you!!”

Such casual use of his first name threw him off, and another ping alerted a new message.

“It’s me (Y/N) we dated in back in high school!!”

That’s why the name sounded so familiar, it was you the male he dated in high school.

He stared at his phone for a moment, all he had to do was respond with something kind.

“Yes I remember you being a thorn in my side”

‘Why am I like this?’ he thought

“Is that why you were an asshole and radio silent on me?”

He blushed, oh right, he was so obsessed with becoming number one that he cut all ties with anyone he deemed useless at helping him achieve his place at the top.

Thinking about it, that wasn’t one of his best choices.

“I apologize for my actions in the past I hope you can forgive my childish behavior, you have every right to be angry with me”

“I was kidding you dummy but if you really want to make it up to me you could look up from your phone screen.”

His brow arched in confusion at the message, look up why would he- oh.

He didn’t know what to do, you were standing there smirking, the sight making heat spread across his cheeks, you were stunning.

You had changed a lot since he had seen you at UA, your muscles are larger and more defined, scars littered your arms ranging from small light scars to large dark ones, gained from years of working with machines and different kinds of equipment no doubt.

You raised a brow “So are you just gonna stand there checking me out or are you going to take me out on a date?”

He jolted and cleared his throat, “I apologize, you surprised me, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

You sighed “You’re still as stiff as you were back in high school, we need to do something about that.”

What did you mean by that? He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, as you fished a pen out of your pocket, grabbed his hand and scribbled something on the palm of his hand.

“Here’s my number call me later.” You winked before walking off.

He was stunned, you were just a normal guy who asked him to call you, so why was his heart pounding in his chest, palms sweaty, and an extreme heat covering his face that had nothing to do with his quirk?

After he composed himself Enji took his phone out and added your contact, now he had to wait until later that day to contact you.

------------------

After the encounter, the few hours that remained in his shift that day seemed to drag on forever. He was antsy to end the day, only a few more minutes, all he had to do was finish his reports then he could change and go home. That was easier said than done but he managed.

------------------

When he made it to his room he immediately whipped out his phone fumbling with it before opening a conversation with you.

“Hello, it’s Enji”

Not even a minute later you replied

“Hey! You ready to take me out?”

You were so direct and straight to the point, it was amazing.

“Yes, where shall I meet you?”

You sent him the location and time.

“8:30 Don’t be late ;)”

It was 6:00 so he had time to prepare, but as he sat there staring at his messages he couldn’t help a smile from creeping onto his face.

“So who were you talking to that’s making you smile at your phone?” The soft voice of his daughter made him jolt, smile immediately slipping from his features.

“N-nothing!” He yelled

She chuckled and prepared to leave the room, but before she could leave the doorway, Enji called out for her.

He blushed “W-wait! Actually, I-I need your.. help with something”

She turned to see a flushed Endeavor staring at his feet.

“I need your help looking for something to wear for a d-date”

She was taken aback, him going on a date, it was.. unexpected to say the least, but she couldn’t help the warm smile from tugging at her lips. He’s finally doing something positive and trying to move past the negativity.

Fuyumi sighed “Ok I’ll help”

He looked up to her grateful and gave a silent thanks, now he had to get ready to meet you near the train station and start the date.

------------------

Which is where he found himself wearing one of his casual button-down shirts and form-fitting jeans. ‘I hope this is good enough’ he thought, glancing at his appearance as he waited for you to show up.

It was now around 30 minutes after you were supposed to be there, Enji now tapping his foot in impatience, nervousness now replaced with annoyance. Grumbling “How dare he make me wait this long” under his breath.

He whipped his phone out about to send you a message when he heard. “Hey! Sorry, I’m late!” Your voice sounding sheepish. He huffed “You better have a good explanation as for why you kept me waiting” he stared at you expectantly.

You chuckled and said, “Well I simply lost track of time”

“Now let’s get going we’re wasting daylight” taking his wrist you started dragging him off to your destination.

------------------

The two of you walked for about 10 minutes before you stopped. “This place is amazing, I come here in the morning to get my coffee”

You gestured to a small cafe before walking in. “A lot of heroes usually come by here, it’s very lowkey and they give heroes a discount!”

he glanced around the interior taking note of the small number of people present.

After the two of you ordered you found a booth to sit and began to talk, well, you did most of the talking. You didn’t chat about anything in particular just catching up about what happened after high school. This went on for about an hour after that Enji slowly started to open up, talking more and eventually, he began smiling and laughing with you.

But sadly the date had to end eventually, that left you with Enji walking you home. You couldn’t help but notice from the corner of your eye that Enji was glancing at your hand more than usual, so you took initiative and took his hand in yours. In response, he stiffened up his face flushing, and grip a bit too tight you couldn’t help but tease him.

You looked up at him, winked, and brought his hand up to your lips and left a gentle peck on the back of his hand. Enji’s face burned as the two of you walked the rest of your way to your apartment, hands still Intertwined.

------------------

Walking up to your apartment you and Enji look at each other.

You sigh “So I guess this is my stop”

Enji offered a small nod in response and awkwardly opened his arms for a hug.

Chuckling you accepted his embrace, soaking up his body heat hug lasting longer than usual. After about a minute you pull away from the hug your arms still around his torso, look at Enji and smile, a real smile and not one of your cocky ones “This was the best date I’ve had in a while, thanks”

Enji blushed “I had a great time as well and I hope we can do this again soon”

But as he said that he couldn’t stop staring at your lips you were so close and they looked so enticing, so he took a deep breath, steeled his nerves and took a chance and leaned in connecting your lips with a gentle kiss.

You weren’t expecting Enji to kiss you, so you froze for just a moment before kissing back, his lips were a bit chapped and it was obvious that he hasn’t done this in a while but to you it was great.

The kiss was innocent enough but as the kiss kept going it began to escalate. You felt something soft and warm press against your bottom lip you parted your lips and welcomed his tongue that entered your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, pressing up against his solid chest he responded by grabbing your waist and doing the same.

He had you pressed against the door panting when you heard it, the laughter you looked around him to see your nosey neighbor's kid was messing around at the park that was direct across from your apartment. You didn’t want your neighbor budding into your love life because her kid saw you kissing a stranger so you pulled away from Enji and pulled out your key to unlock the door.

The two of you barely closed the door before Enji was attacking your lips again. Not wasting a moment the two of you stumbled to your bedroom, a mix of heated moans, clumsy footsteps, and groping hands, the two of you discarding articles of clothing until the two of you were in just underwear.

Enji picked you up and pressed you down onto the mattress kissing down your jaw down to your neck and chest leaving red marks a he went.

He was prepared to be the dominant one until you somehow instantly flipped the two of you around making it where you were on top smirking at him and holding a condom in between your teeth.

You may be the one on his receiving end but Enji knew that you were far from being submissive for him, as you tore open the wrapper with your teeth and looked at him like he was your prey.

He was in for a long night.

------------------

Waking up the next morning the first thing Enji did was to sit up and stretch until he felt the familiar pop of his joints, he looked around his surroundings and noticed that you weren’t in the room with him. Your clothes were missing from the floor and a pair of clothes were neatly folded on the foot of the bed for him.

Quietly he got dressed and went to open the door to exit the room, immediately he was hit by the smell of eggs and bacon.

Walking into the kitchen he blushed as he caught sight of you standing in front of the stove, wearing nothing but a T-shirt tucked into short shorts. They did nothing to hide all of the marks that covered your neck and thighs left behind from the night before.

He couldn’t help but admire your beauty and the way your hips swayed as you quietly hummed a tune under your breath.

“It’s rude to stare you know,” you say over your shoulder

He jumped “S-sorry I didn’t mean to”

You smiled at him and playfully rolled your eyes “It’s fine and stop being so stiff around me you’ve seen me naked and I don’t let just anyone do that ya know”

You turn off the stove and spin around with two plates of bacon and eggs in your hands “now sit, I made breakfast”

Enji sat at the spot at your small dining table that you prepared for him and began eating.

You rubbed the back of your neck “I know it’s not the best but it’s the only thing I know how to make without needing adult supervision”

“It tastes perfectly fine, thank you for making it” Enji defended

You opened your mouth to deny it but his sincere expression made the words dry up and all you could do was let out a sigh and smile back at him.

Enji wanted to see that smile every day.

------------------

After breakfast was finished and everything was put in the sink you and Enji sat on your couch, drank tea, and talked. Mostly just chatting until the conversation about being in a relationship came up.

“(Y/N) there is something I need to talk to you about before any of this continues” Enji looked directly into your eyes.

The two of you held eye contact until he looked down and sighed.

He began telling you of his past, of his goal the reason he left you before, the stuff he’s done to his son and the emotional and physical abuse he’s put the entirety of his family through. Not once did you interrupt him, you let him speak and reveal everything he had done.

After he was finished speaking he couldn’t face you, you must’ve been disgusted with him not that he would blame you. He expected you to reject him, tell him to leave not wanting anything to do with a monster like him.

But that’s not what happened, instead, you reached forwards and cupped his face in your hands and placed a delicate kiss to his lips.

You pulled away “Thank you for telling me, what you did was terrible and you deserve any punishment that you receive.” You paused “But I can see you are trying to change and become a better person.”

You looked him directly in the eyes “And that’s all that matters is that you’re trying and as long as you’re trying I will stand by your side.”

After your speech, Enji only noticed the tears falling from his eyes when you started wiping them away, he latched his arms around your torso pressing his face into your chest, shaking, and sobbing out a chorus of “thank you’s.”

You simply smiled and held him as he cried, you didn’t care that he was staining your shirt with his tears instead, you rubbed circles on his back, placed soft kisses on the crown of his head, and whispered that everything was gonna be okay.

------------------

Ever since that day you and Enji have been on several more dates taking it slow and getting to know each other.

It was about a year later when he invited you over to his home, that was odd considering he hasn't invited you over before because he hasn’t told his kids about you, his daughter Fuyumi being the exception.

Walking up to Enji’s door, your heart was beating a mile a minute it was the first time you were going to meet his children and you were nervous as hell.

Taking a deep breath you lifted a hand and knocked firmly on the door. Not even a minute later the door opened with Enji greeting you with a quick kiss, a thank you for coming before he pulled you inside.

“So I have informed them of someone I wanted them to meet but I haven't told them who exactly they’re meeting” he whispered

As soon as you walked into the living room 3 pairs of eyes were on you, it was an intense staring contest between the four of you.

Enji cleared his throat and gestured to the smaller man “So everyone this is (Y/N) my boyfriend, I hope all of you can get along.”

You took that as your cue to speak “Hey guys nice to finally meet you!” You gave them one of your signature smiles and slap Enji’s back “This loser can’t stop talking about you.”

Enji glared at you “H-hey!” His kids snorted

You ignored him opting to sit next to the boy with half red and half white hair “You must be Shouto” you pinch his cheek lightly “You’re just as adorable as the time I saw you at the sports festival!” He simply blushed and let out a small “thank you.”

Next, you looked to the taller boy with white hair and raised your hand for a high-five “You’re Natsuo!” The boy gave your hand a gentle slap “I love your shirt by the way” you gestured to his shirt that said “FRONT” on it. He gave you a smile “Thanks, finally someone who appreciates my sense of fashion, unlike somebody.” He glanced over to Fuyumi.

You gave her a gentle smile and held out your hand for her to shake “It’s very nice to meet you Fuyumi, I hope I’ve made a good impression on you so far?”

She chucked “Yes you have (Y/N)”

After that you had pleasant conversations with the siblings, getting along with them even Shouto seemed to perk up when you spoke to him.

Enji watched as you effortlessly seemed to make them warm up to you, fitting in so easily it went much better than he thought it would.

He couldn’t help but stare at the empty space on your finger on your left hand and feel the shape of the small velvet box that was at the bottom of his pocket.

Soon his children will have another father, the Todoroki family will have a new member and everyone can take a step forward.

He’ll have to wait until the time is right but for now, he is content with watching his family bond with his boyfriend and future husband.

#endeavor #bnha enji #enji todoroki #endeavor x reader #endeavor x male reader #bnha x male reader #x male reader #male reader #enji todoroki x male reader #endeavor x male #frenchbread's writing

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fountainpenguin · 3 years

Text

It’s an Update

Hello, Riddle here! I know I’ve been pretty quiet on Tumblr lately. Here’s an update on my situation:

I will definitely post more fanfic updates soon. I’ve picked at drafts, but haven’t posted anything lately. Here are the reasons why:

I got a new IRL job. It’s a good fit for me, but I have less free time than I used to, of course. It’s a job that involves writing lots of articles on a variety of topics, and I enjoy how every day is a little different

Most of my free time for the last year has gone towards my mod work at the Creature-Crossing ARPG, and to my personal CC writing. I’ve been working on new activities over there (my recent favorite being our seasonal familiar shows... I won first place in the summer show!) and I have a lot of plot plans that are coming together now. If you ever want to see my original characters and read my CC writing, you can find my character directory HERE and my Table of Contents HERE.

Once November 1st hits, I won’t be preparing for the release of any more CC activities or events. All future activity or event releases will be overseen by the other mods, and I’ll simply be someone they can ask for extra help if needed. This is a big change for a mod who spent the last 12 months working on new releases, and will give me back some of the free time my IRL job will eat

The Creature-Crossing admin (my boss) greenlit my request to bring an assistant on the mod team who will specifically help me with a lot of my behind-the-scenes work, such as data entry and organization. I’ve never had another mod who specifically helps me with the back end duties before, so that will be awesome. I will need to spend some time training them, but once they are official, that will take some of my workload off and allow me more free time for this blog and personal writing time.

===

Fanfic updates you can expect to see soon:

- Reedfilter Rules

- Frayed Knots

- Origin of the Pixies

- Debut of Factor It In, my Kid Math-centric “WordGirl” fanfic (Subtitled “Tales of a third-grade superhero in training”)... Yes I am still in love with this idiot boy, expect lots of doodle pages soon

- The 130 Prompts project is on a slow-burn writing schedule... I’ll write for it when I want to, but I mostly want to focus on Origin and Knots this year.

Further info below the cut. There is more info about non-Fairly OddParents ‘fics in here too (under “non-FOP fanfics”), so if you’re looking forward to Mario World or “WordGirl” ‘fics from me, give this a click so you know what’s coming!

So, what does this update mean for your fanfics?

They’ll be active again soon! I’ve been picking at them behind the scenes, trying to build up a buffer. In an ideal world, I would love to release a new chapter for SOMETHING every Friday. I doubt this will be possible, but it’s something I would love to work towards in the future. Realistically, you can probably expect some kind of fanfic update once every two Fridays (two updates per month).

There might be some Fridays where posting an update is not possible. Instead, I’ll make a post about what progress I made instead. In the past, I often overworked myself to get a chapter out in time for my old deadline. I will not be doing that anymore, but will instead hold myself to a goal of “Make progress on something every week.”

In the best ideal world, I would love to post one FOP fanfic update per week and one non-FOP fanfic update per week. This is not likely to happen for a long, long time, but that would be the dream.

Here are the things I most likely worked on if there is no fanfic update:

- A fanfic chapter draft that needs more time

- A sideblog profile

- A Toyhouse profile for personal characters

- IRL work or mod work may have kept me busy this week

- Creature-Crossing writing... I will try to prioritize my fanfics more, but my CC writing is still important to me and I will be working on it in a lot of my free time too. At the moment, I have a hard deadline of December 14th that I need to meet if I want to release huge plot drama on the day that it happens in canon. I’ve been building up to this for a long time, so I’m really excited about that.

I currently have summer or autumn 2022 planned as the “finale” for the majority of my plot to explode. I will be hosting a member-run event in Creature-Crossing that will last for two months, so a lot of my time from January until the event’s release will be spent doing event prep. Once the event ends, my story content will mostly be a “return to slice of life.” Stories will be more casual one-offs as characters grow, live their lives, and start their own families. Hitting seasonal deadlines for plot will no longer be so important. I’ll be giving Creature-Crossing work less attention after that, and much more attention to my fanfics.

- I may not have a fanfic chapter out each week, but I WILL post a note every Friday to let you know what I have been doing with my time. You’ll see me around. Feel free to send Asks and talk!

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What non-FOP fanfics would you like to work on?

For literal years, I’ve been claiming I want to post Mario World fanfics. This is still something I want to do. I tag Mario World posts as “mushrooms and more.” I’ve already done a lot of worldbuilding, I have thousands of words of content written for this fandom... I just haven’t posted any of it. I hope to do this soon.

- “WordGirl” fanfics are prioritized over Mario World fanfics. After I finish my first “WordGirl” multi-chapter, I will probably be ready to post my Mario World ‘fics. I may possibly post some Mario World one-shots in between other fanfic updates. Might take another year or more before I touch Mario stuff unless there’s high interest in seeing it sooner?

I also really want to write some WordGirl ‘fics and get more involved with the fandom community. I’ve been building headcanons and lore for this show ever since I was a kid, and I have multiple ‘fics for this fandom that I want to write.

- “AlgoRhythm” is a ‘fic I have already posted on FFN and AO3, about WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains in town

- 28 Cities is a ‘fic I started about Rhyme and Reason before they arrived in Fair City. I put it on hiatus since it didn’t seem like anyone was interested, but I’m willing to post more for it if there is interest in it now that years have passed and I’ve gotten more followers who like WordGirl. I have a lot of worldbuilding and plot I never shared for it

- Factor It In is a ‘fic I’ve been working for a while that parallels the official show from the moment Kid Math arrives in town. It focuses on Rex’s struggle to adjust to this world as a child coming into his superpowers for the first time (Y’know, the whole “superheroes don’t have powers when they’re on their home planets” thing), his struggle to adapt to the social world of a non-logical planet, and Becky’s struggle to help him become accustomed to Earth and learn to share it with her as well. If the episode “Kid Math” was a full-length novel about Rex’s arrival and character development, that’s what this story is. This is the highest priority of all my non-FOP ‘fics... I’ve had a cover image made for 6 months and even though I tried setting it aside, I’ve always been super inspired to write for it. If I felt like it would be a good idea to commit to weekly updates alongside my FOP updates, I would, haha.

- I have two one-shot WIPs called “Squishy Feelings” and “A Little Ambiguity”, one of them focusing on Becky and Rex talking about the events of “Rhyme and Reason” and what it means for Rex’s secret identity, and the latter being a future ‘fic showing WordGirl and Kid Math dealing with life 10 to 15 years down the road. I’ll probably post the latter, not sure yet on the former.

- If desired, I may make a WordGirl specific sideblog where I post lore, answer Asks, post character profiles [smaller than my FOP sideblog ones], and mention fanfic updates. If you would be interested in this, feel free to send me an Ask requesting I do this. If there’s not interest, I’ll just keep my WordGirl stuff on the main blog.

- I’d like to get more involved in the WordGirl community, so I’ll probably post more content and reblog more art and headcanons

I also have a handful of miscellaneous ideas I might follow through with. I’d like to write at least one “TUFF Puppy” fanfic so I can say I did. In a perfect world I would like to finish the two “Danny Phantom” and “Bunsen Is a Beast” fanfics I started because... I just kind of want to dip my toe in each of the Hartman shows once since I already went through all the effort of worldbuilding for them to make them canon in a single Hartman show universe. “ChalkZone” is another show I adore and might touch someday (You may recall I have a full outline planned for an FOP/ChalkZone crossover ‘fic called “Dust to Dust”).

Will I write all of these things? Maybe not. I have no idea if I want to spend the next 10+ years writing fanfics, or if I’ll simply be done with all misc. fanfics immediately once I decide to be done with my main ‘fics. I definitely intend to write for a few more years and finish my main ‘fics, but I might not go through with some less popular side ‘fics if life is getting busy for me.

===

What is the posting schedule for FOP ‘fics?

Reedfilter Rules, Frayed Knots, Origin of the Pixies, the 130 Prompts project, and “Come What May” are all high priority FOP writings. I will swap between them depending on my mood that week.

Here are some other ‘fics I want to work on.

- If you like, you can send me Asks requesting I work on a specific story above the rest. I will try to prioritize whichever stories interest you guys most.

Snips and Snails is a ‘fic I started and posted the first chapter for years ago. I’m not sure when I will get back to it, as I ran into some writer’s block. It’s still on tentative hiatus for now..... Possibly forever, though I hope it isn’t forever since it’s only supposed to be, like, five more chapters.

Pink and Gray is on official hiatus. I actually have a lot written for it, but I know it’s a little weird to put so much time and energy into Gary and Betty content when... well, let’s be honest: they’re my niche favorites and most of you probably don’t care. So, I am lifting my usual “no spoilers” policy from my Ask Box. If you would like to ask about my Gary and Betty backstory headcanons, feel free. I will tag my replies as “ridwriting spoilers” for anyone who wants to blacklist the tag, and spoilers will be hidden under a Read More line.

I’d like to return to this story someday because there are tons of things I like about it (ranging from Betty’s secret tattoos to Gary’s plot drama with his mom to the background drama between Talon and Anti-Cosmo, but I always feel immense pressure to make it extra cool to make up for the fact these are weird side characters, so... it’s officially at the bottom of the priority pile. Once Talon shows up in Frayed Knots and readers understand who he is and why he exists, I’ll consider coming back to it.

Identity Theft is a story about Foop and his time in the alternate dimension he was flung into following the episode “Playdate of Doom.” To put it short, Foop was abused by alternate versions of his parents in this dimension and he witnessed some pretty intense stuff, including the death of the alt version of himself who existed in that reality. The trauma he experienced resulted in his alternate personality, Hiccup. Foop himself has very few memories of what happened, as Hiccup has all of those memories. This story is canon in my works, and it is regularly referred to during the 130 Prompts as part of Foop’s backstory. It’s my highest priority side story to work on.

Along the Cherry Lane is a 20-chapter work focusing on the lives of the main human cast from age 11 to age 30, with one chapter showing a snippet of their lives each year. You see Timmy raising Tommy and Tammy in this ‘fic, and it ends with them receiving godparents. Since the 130 Prompts don’t give humans much attention, this ‘fic does. You’ll probably see it debut two years from now, closer to when the 130 Prompts is ready to talk more about humans.

If this becomes a popular ‘fic of mine, I’ll probably write a sequel or continue it past Chapter 30 and write about Tammy and Tommy living with fairies, but I won’t if there’s no interest in that.

Little Imperfections is a Pixie AU ‘fic of mine about what life would be like in a universe where the Fairies are even more like insects than I play them as during my main works (where I already play them as semi-similar to insects). In this world, the Head Pixie is a figurehead whose duty is to reproduce for the sake of the colony and do nothing else, and he’s bored out of his mind until he befriends Sanderson, who introduces him to music. It’s extremely self-indulgent and silly because I like Pixies.

Francis is a multi-chapter ‘fic about bully Francis’s life getting yet another fairy godparent in a long string of memory wipes and godparents. It takes place during the canon series, and when you see an “orange fairy” mentioned in some of my writings, it’s usually referring to this fairy. His name is Rover and I occasionally post art of him. I feel like I can’t truly call myself an FOP fanfic writer until I actually write about a godkid and their godparents, haha...

Hawthorn Haven is a side ‘fic that will be posted towards the end of the 130 Prompts, as it veers off from the prompts in its own self-contained multi-chapter story. It will be approximately the length of “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”

Acacia Arcadia is a far-past ‘fic detailing the fall of the ancient fae, the imprisonment of the nature spirits, the rise and fall of the chimera nation, the fall of the Martian genies, and the early days of the cloudlands. This is close to the bottom of the priority pile... It’s something I spend time on for personal reference to ensure accuracy in my other ‘fics, but it’s probably not what you guys came here to read.

AA has a bunch of characters in it that you might vaguely recognize, such as Ezekiel Whimsifinado, Evadne, Ione, Two Feathers, Rho, and Sablewood (If you’re astute, you might recall cloudland legends and landmarks in modern day that refer back to these characters). There are also a lot of characters who were reincarnated as Anti-Fairies, in accordance to traditional Anti-Fairy beliefs; Foop for example exists as a main character in one of his past lives, and you’ll see a hint dropped about each of his lives in the first chapter of Identity Theft. My tentative plan is to use Foop’s past lives as my central characters, following the events of each part of the timeline until he gets killed and reincarnates at a later point of the timeline.

I also keep some one-shots in a file I call Mixed Nuts and I may possibly post them someday (they’re mostly just one-shots of main cast characters I do to get a feel for their personalities, I have some Wanda and Cupid in here). @zachbrightside and I are also working on a collab ‘fic called Like a House On Fire that shows more of Timmy and Chloe’s lives during Season 10 (especially around the time of “Which Is Wish?”) No news on a release date for that yet.

As I’ve said before, once all my other FOP works are complete, I will write Devil’s Backbone, which is my far-future ‘fic and the finale of my FOP writing. I do not plan to write any more FOP content after that story is finished, as I expect to have all other FOP projects done by then.

- Devil’s Backbone is a finale 'fic, so all worldbuilding from all stories is fair game to blend together, and it’s highly recommended you read everything else first. This story has been outlined since 2016, and it might not be published for another 10 years... Who knows! But it’s something I always work towards as a concrete endgame goal.

- If something serious comes up in my life and I officially decide I don’t want to write this story, I will post the outline for it. The link to this draft is included with all the other Google Docs links I have in a far-future queued post unveiling my WIPs in case I unexpectedly die and you still want to know how my stories would have gone, so you’ll get access to this story eventually even if I die young. Yes, share access is turned on for them all and I do take extra careful measures to be sure that post doesn’t get posted early skldfj

===

What is the plan for the main blog?

Every Friday, I will post either a fanfic chapter or a progress update. You can blacklist the tag “ridlife” if you do not want to see the progress updates on your dashboard. Fanfic updates will not have the “ridlife” tag, so you will not be blocking them.

During the rest of the week, I might post doodles, reblogs, or general comments. Basically... you’ll see the blog become active again. Feel free to send in Asks about my worldbuilding and thoughts on fanfic characters.

@fountainpenguin is my personal blog, so you will see non-fandom things on here sometimes

@riddledeep is my FOP-exclusive sideblog. It contains all my lore notes and goes into a ton of depth, more than my fanfics give in one breath

===

What does this mean for the Riddledeep sideblog?

I really want to go back and edit those character profiles that were posted early by mistake. The reason they were queued is because if I turned them into drafts, they would have been buried all the way at the beginning of my draft collection, and I have many, many drafts saved. There are no page numbers to navigate quickly through the draft collection, so I would have to click through each page one by one if I ever wanted to look at them. I hated doing this, which is why I kept my posts queued.

I was regularly updating the queue deadlines, trying to keep things in the order I wanted to post them in, but Tumblr made a change to the way drafts are dated and it kept throwing off my system. My inability to remember when my queued things would post combined with my busy schedule led to some profiles being posted early and incomplete. I want to fix these.

Over a year ago, my good friend Vulpix150 helped me finalize my designs for the Aos Sí and Daoine Sith. I’ve been sitting on that art in secret for a while, and at some point I plan to post it on the sideblog and talk more about that lore.

Updating fanfics is my higher priority (and it was the priority my followers voted for when I asked you to send votes to my Ask Box a while back). So, I will usually spend my free time working on fanfics unless I need a break from them and want to work on sideblog profiles instead. Thank you for your patience!

===

TL;DR

I’m posting fanfics again soon. I’m going to take a more relaxed approach to posting them. I’m going to post more of what I want to post and what I feel motivated to post, not always a main ‘fic update. If I’m not “feeling it” when working on a draft, then I’ll set it aside for a while unless I know my followers and readers have high interest in the next chapter of that story. I always write for me first, but if I know there are other people who care a lot about a story, then of course I want to write it for you too!

I’m going to embrace my decade-long love for WordGirl and post more ‘fics and art or this fandom. I’ve always been a little shy about doing this, but I’m ready to make it an official fandom on my main blog (unless there are lots of requests for WordGirl things to be contained in their own sideblog). I will be posting the first chapter for a ‘fic called Factor It In very soon. Love my easily frustrated alien kiddos having a long day.

I am working on Creature-Crossing stuff too, and will be especially busy in November and December. Updates will be slow for a few months, but I hope to find my groove and a good pace soon.

Each Friday, I will post either a fanfic update or a mention of what I am working on. I will be checking in on Tumblr regularly. Feel free to talk! I much prefer you send messages to my Ask Box, not my private messenger, please <3

===

Is there a specific story of mine you like and want more updates for?

Asks and reviews help me know which ‘fics people are enjoying. I plan to keep writing ‘fics no matter what, but I definitely give more time to the ‘fics that get more attention (and I have been spending so much time writing for Creature-Crossing because that’s where the attention was coming from)

It’s easy to stay motivated and get the next part of a story out soon if I know that people like it. It’s always harder if you feel like people are silently judging you and ignoring your posts. So, let me know what you’re interested in. And if you only leave Likes or Favorites instead of asks and reviews, that’s okay too! Thank you for interacting anyway and enjoying my work.

Thanks for reading!

#WordGirl #Factor It In #Kid Math #FAIRIES!#ridlife #riddleverse mention #ridwriting #Mushrooms and more #Satirical vocab alien child show #Frayed Knots #130 Prompts #Origin of the Pixies #Pink and Gray #Acacia Arcadia #Devil's Backbone #Hawthorn Haven #Along the Cherry Lane

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

Text

Head Case (S2, E6)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:03 - This clip of Malcolm in the car is from the pilot episode. I was so betrayed by this clip. Full disclosure - I’ve always had a thing for Malcolm’s jacket from the pilot episode. I just love it and I think Tom Payne looks cute in it. BUT - I was betrayed because Malcolm isn’t wearing my favourite jacket in the next scene (I was disappointed but not surprised). Rant about wardrobe over.

0:20 - This is weird to me. In the clip right before this, when Malcolm was coming to Claremont (wearing the awesome jacket) - Malcolm is clearly in emotional distress. He’s not in a good mood. BUT right here, when Malcolm is chatting with Mr. David he seems like he’s in a good mood. Not one of his manic good moods - just a regular good one.

0:32 - Anyone else notice how visibly uncomfortable Jessica AND Malcolm are? This whole Ainsley situation is literally going to destroy them both. :(

0:34 - sooooo Mr. David knows by now right? He has to? ALSO when the European FBI guy shows up in a few episodes this is going to be bad for Malcolm and Jessica right? The FBI guy will probs talk to Mr. David who will be like - oh yeah, they’ve had more ‘family meetings’ in the past 6 months than in the past 20 years.

1:22 - Sooooo this whole family honestly thinks Ainsley’s going to become a serial killer. From the tidbits of her childhood that we’ve seen, the way she treated Malcolm in Q&A, and generally how she acts when she wants to get a story - I’m not surprised. Read my thoughts on older episodes (1x7, 1x20, 2x5), I’ve always thought Ainsley was a sociopath or psychopath. The girl doesn’t show a lot of moral backbone or sympathy for anyone.

1:33 - Wait. Does this montage of Malcolm’s erratic behaviour mean that Malcolm killed someone as a kid? And doesn’t know it? Or is this just a reference to the whole ‘girl in the box’ trauma arc from last season?

1:44 - “I wish I didn’t know that you were a killer.” Anyone else get major flashbacks to the movie Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause? “I wish I had never become Santa at all” then we get an AU for 40 mins? Just me? Cool - excuse my bad taste in Christmas movies.

1:50 - hahaha Martin is so bitter.

2:25 - You know, as much as I love to hate Martin - he has a point. Malcolm loved his Dad (still does whether he wants to admit it or not) in 98′ - why is Malcolm chill with Ainsley killing but not Martin? Is it because with Martin, he found a poor girl tortured in a box but with Ainsley he saw her kill a man that was threatening their family? Or was it because Martin tried to kill Malcolm but Ainsley hasn’t (yet?) **honestly - that would be such an interesting episode - if Ainsley tries to kill Malcolm**

2:33 - THANK YOU. Someone finally thanks Malcolm for trying to protect Ainsley (and in extension Jessica) from the emotional trauma he’s been dealing with since the age of 10. EVEN THOUGH PROTECTING THEM IS MAKING HIS MENTAL STATE WORSE. Seriously - Malcolm is going to snap soon I honestly won’t be surprised if we get some suicidal ideation from him this season (especially if things don’t improve). Look at those big sad puppy dog eyes when Jess thanks him.

2:38 - hahahaha that side-eyed glare directed at Martin.

2:53 - I know Jessica had good intentions here - she’s trying to protect both of her children but honestly, this whole interaction was probably super upsetting for Malcolm. Think about it - BOTH of his parents haven’t tried to have a serious discussion with him at the same time since he was at 10 years old or younger. This interaction is probably bringing up some memories for Malcolm and making him grieve for the childhood he lost all over again.

3:06 - “You’re gross.” followed by a very regal wave at Mr. David. YES. Queen Jessica. <3

3:25 - Malcolm startling JT is pretty freaking cute. Look at how JT’s expression immediately changes from startled to concerned. I don’t blame him. Malcolm gives off major manic energy in this scene. The visit with the parents did not leave him in a good place. Also - Malcolm straight up admitted that he’s had a ‘rough morning’ this boy almost never tells the truth when he’s struggling. He’s fine. He’s always fine.

3:30 - “Rough month.” IS THIS IT? IS THIS ALL I’M GOING TO GET? JT had a baby THREE EPISODES AGO. ‘rough month’ is a reference to the fact that he’s a new dad and he’s struggling with lack of sleep, leaving Tally alone with the baby while he’s a work, being a good husband, adjusting to dad life, ect. RIGHT?!? We’ve literally had no mention of the baby since 2x3 and I’m losing my mind. I just want someone to say, “Hey JT, how’s the baby?” that’s it. I want 5 seconds of dialogue. Just an acknowledgment that the child exists.

3:54 - “Sooo bring me up to speed.” OMG. That smile is both extremely manic and completely adorable. Seriously - why is no one on the team more concerned about Malcolm during this episode? AND WHERE THE EFF IS EDRISA IN THIS SCENE?!? We’ve been robbed.

4:21 - “What? I liked math class.” OMG. JT is a closet math nerd. You can’t take this headcanon away from me.

4:24 - hahahaha look at Malcolm absorbing the new information about JT. He’s like.....yes. I will keep that information for later. Very good. Will pry further.

5:04 - I love Dani. She’s perfect. She can see that Malcolm just checked out into his own horror of a memory. So she gently teases him to bring him back to reality. <3 This is true friendship. <3

6:00 - Was I the only one who thought it was weird that Gil asked Malcolm to help with the canvasing? Like - doesn’t Malcolm always help? Isn’t that part of what he does to build his profile?

6:12 - “KGB agent” Yes. Malcolm is still annoyed that Ainsley was so competitive about a literal murder last episode. I promise you. Ainsley’s probably still annoyed too.

6:26 - This is why Malcolm is considering telling Ainsley the truth. He’s already losing her. May as well rip off the band-aid. She might not react as badly finding out from him as she would finding out by herself.

6:51 - “That is my vagina.” hahahahaha OMG. As a woman I must say: HOW?!?! As someone who adores JT: hahahahahahahaha OMG.

7:23 - “You’re getting a lot of mileage out of that tidbit”. lol. JT gently teasing Malcolm is one of my favourite things. Hands down. Especially since they’ve reached a point in their friendship where Malcolm doesn’t seem scared or offended when JT makes fun of him. They’re acting like brothers and I LOVE IT. <3

7:25 - “That’s the tip of the iceberg my man.” I have no idea why I am so amused by someone calling Malcolm “my man” but I am.

7:36 - “The Bowery Ripper” hahaha the look that JT and Dani exchange when Malcolm starts nerding out.

8:00 - Wendell is kind of creepy. But like a weird, non-threatening creepy?

8:22 - OMG. JT let the vagina sculpture go. hahaha Look at how grossed out Dani is hahahaha she’s like, “Ugh. Men are gross.”

8:30 - This is why I love JT. He knows that that elevator is sketchy as hell. Plus it’s some (less than subtle) foreshadowing for what’s to come in this episode.

8:41 - How did Dani find out he was at Claremont?! Does Mr. David call Gil every time Malcolm visits?!? ......this is my new headcanon. You will have to pry it from my cold dead hands.

9:00 - This is a really cute moment between Dani and Malcolm. Regardless of whether or not you ship Brightwell - it’s really sweet to see Malcolm interacting so honestly with someone. He’s telling Dani the truth about something and she’s not making him feel bad about how messed up his family is or how weird his situation is. She just listens and teases him to make him smile. That is a good friend. IDC how you feel about Brightwell - right now - this is a GOOD FRIEND moment and Malcolm deserves more of them.

9:10 - Annnnnnndddd this is why Brightwell shouldn’t happen (right now). Dani is still hurt that Malcolm doesn’t trust her enough to tell her everything. She still doesn’t completely trust him after what happened last season. A romantic relationship without 100% trust will fail. End of story. They’re great friends but right now they can’t be in a romantic relationship. It’ll end poorly. (Damn, I hope Brightwell is endgame though).

9:38 - hahaha Greta Swan is a perfect comedic relief for the Dani/Malcolm tension we just witnessed. This girl is a little nuts and a lot funny.

10:00 - “Dad’s lived here his whole life” - wow. The writers really left us some big bread crumbs. We go from the scene where someone mentions a serial killer who killed someone (who was abducted from this hotel) in 1963. THEN we find a strange, gossipy woman and her grumpy father who has lived there his whole life. Coincidence? Nah.

10:17 - SERIOUSLY?!? The Whitly home is ENORMOUS. WHY IS JESSICA LETTING AINSLEY WORK IN THE MURDER BASEMENT?!?!?! We literally just found out that Jessica has a SOLARIUM somewhere in this house.

10:40 - “The guy definitely seems like he kills people.” Oh the irony here.

10:55 - “Are you upset with me?” This is soft and I love it. Malcolm is being vulnerable with his little sister and it warms my heart.

11:07 - “Insomnia sucks.” “Who knew?” Again. Irony.

11:18 - “Anything you want to talk about?” This is precious. Malcolm loves Ainsley SO FREAKING MUCH. He has major Dad/Big brother/concerned school counsellor energy here and I’m here for it.

11:38 - Malcolm’s soooo going to replay this conversation in his head about a million times. He’s going to blame himself for Ainsley’s murder victim of this episode. He’s going to play the “what-if” game. What if - he told her the truth here? Would she still have killed someone tonight?

11:52 - Look at Ainsley’s face here. She seems sort of confused and comforted? Like maybe the fractions of memories that she’s admitting to having are making her believe that she killed Endicott and it scares her. Malcolm telling her otherwise is probably comforting on some level. It’s helping her convince herself that she’s done nothing wrong.

12:25 - According to IMDB - this isn’t the episode LDP directed SO WHY IS THERE SO LITTLE GIL CONTENT IN THIS EPISODE?!?!?!

12:27 - What the hell is the puddle on the floor btw? Is it paint? Tar? Blood? I thought construction hadn’t started on the hotel yet?

14:14 - Malcolm. You. Are. A. Moron. Why go towards the creepy elevator that opened by itself? Why did you think that was a good idea?

14:29 - The Bowery Ripper is pretty strong for an old guy. I mean, Malcolm isn’t that big and he was caught off guard but still.

14:38 - I wanted this scene to be reality SO SO BADLY. I don’t even care about the Brightwell interaction in this scene. Malcolm is on a hospital bed. With an ice pack. I could’ve watched 45 minutes of “Malcolm in the hospital” content. The fact that this boy didn’t spend longer than a 30 second scene in the hospital is a CRIME. Why does Fedak hate giving us the whump aftercare?!? WHY?!?! Doesn’t he know like half the fandom LIVES FOR IT?!?

14:40 - You know how I knew this was the start of Malcolm’s AU dream? 2 reasons: 1) Dani has her hand on the ice pack on Malcolm’s head, even though he totally doesn’t need her help to hold the ice pack to his head. 2) GIL ISN”T HERE. .....although this episode did us dirty with the lack of Gil content (I miss Papa!Gil so much)

14:46 - There’s something about dream JT. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Real and dream JT are almost identical. But dream JT seems to be more open with Malcolm? IDK - he’s more relaxed around Malcolm? I can’t quite describe it. Did anyone else notice that there was just something a little bit different about dream JT? Not even in a bad way. Just different.

15:15 - “Noooo she said it could’ve been worse. Not the same.” hahaha YES DANI. Good looking out. Call out this boy for neglecting his health.

15:24 - This whole scene where Dani and Malcolm do a joint interrogation was awesome. They were talking pretty fast which I found a little distracting but JT said it best, “They were on FIRE”. One thing I REALLY liked about the scene was the dynamic between Dani and Malcolm. Neither one of them was really taking a lead in the interrogation. They were equal partners and I think that says a lot about Malcolm’s romantic desires. He doesn’t want to dominate anyone. He doesn’t want to be taken advantage of. He just wants someone he can trust and respect. Someone who will trust and respect him. He wants a partner. An equal partner. I think that’s a really healthy desire for anyone in search of a relationship.

16:12 - an affair? Did we know that Lyle and/or Katrina were married?!? If they weren’t married it would just be a relationship. Not an affair.

17:01 - Is this honestly the first time Dani has called Malcolm by his first name? In 26 episodes? It must be right? Because I swear I was so shocked my heart skipped a beat (also my Brightwell heart melted but that’s a whole different thing).

17:06 - .....so in Malcolm’s dream does he still work for Major Crimes? Is JT running the department? I need some more details here.

17:12 - Soft!JT <3 <3 <3 How cute is it that in Malcolm’s AU dream, JT (and Dani) don’t actually change (in terms of personality). Their roles in his life just intensify. Dani becomes his significant other and JT becomes a much closer friend/brother. It’s precious. <3 <3 <3

17:52 - Something about the fact that Jessica isn’t drinking liquor in the AU is hilarious and depressing to me. It’s funny because, well, it just tickles me. It’s depressing because Malcolm understands that Jessica drinks to dull the pain. In this AU, she isn’t in pain. She’s happy. Therefore, she doesn’t need alcohol. I don’t know about you but the fact that Malcolm’s subconscious wanted his mom to be happy so badly that she became (more or less) sober - is heartbreaking and heartwarming all at the same time.

18:11 - “No one in this family is scared of a little blood right?” The irony here is THICK.

19:23 - The fact that Ainsley is a doctor just like Martin in Malcolm’s AU is terrifying and hilarious. This whole “I watched Ainsley kill a man” thing is really destabilizing Malcolm’s questionable mental health.

19:27 - “Please Ainsley is the talented one. I’m a distance second.” ....does this mean that Endicott isn’t the first person Ainsley has killed? Does this mean subconsciously Malcolm somehow thinks that Ainsley is a better serial killer than Martin?

19:56 - “No phones at dinner okay?” Something about the way Martin is looking at Malcolm at this moment and Martin’s tone of voice made me think - “Shit. Martin’s still a serial killer in Malcolm’s AU.” Especially since they Ainsley literally just announced to the room that he’s getting a from Claremont.

20:06 - Yep. That’s a nightmare. From the back, Claremont!Gil probably looked like Martin circa mid-2010s for Malcolm.

20:09 - Look idc who you ship on this show. But I will fight you if you don’t think that Malcolm being comforted after a nightmare by someone he loves is the sweetest thing ever. Look at how Dani gently rubs his arm and back. Ugh. This is the kind of safety Malcolm DESERVES.

20:43 - Dani lying on Malcolm’s chest. <3 It just makes me so happy. Not even necessarily because it’s Dani (although I do ship Brightwell as end game) but because Malcolm’s subconscious is showing us his ideal relationship and we don’t see anything wild or questionable - we just see G-rated cuddling. And damn if that doesn’t say a lot about how much Malcolm just wants to be loved.

20:53 - .......Can we have a full episode’s worth of footage where Malcolm is unconscious on the floor? I know I’m a basket case but it would make my whump heart so happy.....even happier if that footage was immediately followed by 40 mins of hospital care/comfort footage.

20:59 - I know that time has sort of slowed down for the purpose of plot in this episode but ngl - every time we saw the elevator approaching passed out Malcolm all I could think was “this is the slowest elevator in the world.”

21:26 - Malcolm is so so relaxed and comfortable in this scene. I want him to be this happy forever.

22:07 - “You deserve all of it.” Malcolm subconsciously just wants permission to be happy. He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy (especially after Endicott). That little revelation broke my heart. Also the Brightwell kiss was adorable. Dani takes control because, Malcolm wants to feel wanted and this is how his subconscious is manifesting that desire. I will argue that Malcolm doesn’t necessarily want a relationship where his partner takes charge or dominates him. He made coffee of both of them. They’re living in his apartment. They’re having calm, mature, adult conversations. They are both equal partners in his dream relationship.

22:45 - Dani isn’t scared of Malcolm when his hand starts shaking. She isn’t judging him. She’s just concerned. <3

22:47 - “Existential ennui”? Soooo much french in this episode. Damn. “Jamais vu”, “Quelle suprise”. Now “ennui”.

23:35 - “I don’t fit your profile.” ....am I expected to believe that Malcolm didn’t realize this was a dream until this moment? Dani calling him “Malcolm Whitly” in the last scene wasn’t a red flag? Or the fact that Ainsley is a doctor. Or that Martin isn’t in Claremont? Or that Jessica isn’t drinking booze by the bucket? I mean, I know he has a head injury but these are big red flags.

24:15 - Sooooo is Wendell dead irl? Because this is technically a dream.

25:02 - “I thought we were looking for an inexperienced psychopath. A first time killer.”......this is him projecting about Ainsley right? Am I overthinking this? And now he says, “I was wrong”. Is that supposed to suggest that Malcolm thinks Ainsley has killed someone before Endicott?

25:07 - “The blows are confident. They were having fun.”.....couldn’t the same be said about how Ainsley stabbed Endicott? They were definitely confident stabs (plus a confident throat slitting).

25:14 - “We’re looking for a serial killer.” Istg the writers are hinting that Ainsley is a serial killer (or will become one soon).

25:27 - Mr. David appears in the AU but Edrisa doesn’t. We were ROBBED.

26:07 - I’m not the only one who thinks that beard makes Gil look like a werewolf right?

26:33 - Claremont!Gil is creepy. LDP’s performance here is really really good. Also - I hate it. Because serial killer Gil is just not my Gil and it upsets me to see Gil chained to a wall.

26:56 - Sooooo in the AU “The Surgeon” is still at large right? ....you’d think Malcolm would be trying to solve that case with Dani and JT. You know, an active prolific serial killer in New York?

27:34 - The way that Martin, Gil, and Malcolm interact in this scene is really interesting to me. In a lot of ways, this isn’t an AU. Think about it.

In the dream: Gil is frantically trying to convince Malcolm that Martin is a serial killer. In a way, Gil is trying to protect Malcolm from Martin.

In reality: Gil just shoots Malcolm disapproving looks when he mentions seeing Martin. Gil desperately tries to protect Malcolm from Martin.

In the dream: Martin is trying to convince Malcolm that Gil is a monster. He’s trying to convince Malcolm that he’s a Good father. That he would never hurt Malcolm. That he loves Malcolm.

In reality - Martin is the same.

The only main difference between AU!Martin, AU!Gil, and their real counterparts is their temperaments. AU!Martin has Gil’s calm, comforting, and rational temperament while AU!Gil has Martin’s angry, manic, and controlling temperament.

What is the same between the AU characters and their real counterparts?

Martin is still a manipulative killer.

Gil still shoots Malcolm looks of concern (27:45).

Gil and Martin still hate each other.

28:30 - Even dream Martin tries to gaslight Malcolm.

28:56 - “You can always count on Dad.” ....is this how Malcolm really feels about Martin subconsciously? It kind of makes sense? Who did Malcolm turn to when Ainsley did the unthinkable? Not Gil or Jessica. Malcolm said it in 1x12 - (I’m paraphrasing) “The child in me thought he cared. Loved me even.” I think there’s still a part of Malcolm that believes that. Or at least a part of Malcolm that desperately wants to believe that.

29:17 - “I’ve never been to a crime scene before.” That’s because you create the crime scene, Martin. In all versions of reality.

29:20 - annnnnnd AU Martin shares regular Martin’s weird fascination with Dani.

31:00 - JT being buddy-buddy with Martin is hands down the most horrifying part of the AU.

31:10 - “I think he’s having a psychotic break.” ......I want this to be foreshadowing so so so badly. I think it would be so interesting to see how the team, Jessica, Ainsley, and even Martin deal with Malcolm just having a total breakdown. Maybe not a full psychotic break. Maybe a nervous breakdown? Or he succumbs to his suicidal ideation? Probably a little too dark for network TV though.

31:34 - “I’m very protective of her and her boots.” Does Malcolm see himself as the Bowery Ripper, trying to protect Ainsley as opposed to his daughter? Or is the Bowery Ripper supposed to be a metaphor for Martin protecting Ainsley? Is Malcolm going to take the fall for Ainsley and all her murders?!?

32:45 - “Why did you kill again? After all these years.” istg this is hinting that Ainsley killed someone as a kid and Martin knows about it.

33:00 - “I can’t let my daughter know what I was.” .....is the Bowery Ripper supposed to be Ainsley? Is Ainsley killing people to try and protect Malcolm? Ugh. I’m totally overthinking this.

33:02 - Even in his dream, Malcolm can’t bring himself to kill his father. Wether that is by cutting off contact with Martin irl or letting the Bowery Ripper kill him in the AU.

33:07 - Actually though - why doesn’t Malcolm carry a gun IRL? We know he’s trained to use one. We saw him use one in the pilot on a case for the FBI. Is there some sort of NYPD rule about consultants carrying weapons? Is it a rule that Gil has imposed on Malcolm? Is it a rule that Malcolm has imposed on himself? A mixture? I want to know.

33:38 - OMG. Is Malcolm going to try and kill Ainsley?!?! What a twist that would be. AU Malcolm just killed a killer. He doesn’t seem to feel bad about it and he agrees with Martin that “everything is okay now”.

33:55 - This hug deeply moved me. Malcolm is fully aware that this hug isn’t real but he looks so content to be hugged by his father. Malcolm is finally getting a proper hug. <3 It honestly makes me wonder what Malcolm would do IRL for his father’s approval though. He’s clearly sooo desperate for Martin to love him. Who knows what Martin will be able to convince Malcolm to do in this season? Malcolm’s not all that mentally stable right now and he’s really vulnerable emotionally. I’m worried.

34:26 - “Not that it’s a competition.” ....yep. Ainsley wants to be better than Malcolm even in Malcolm’s own subconscious.

35:00 - Heart. Breaking. Watching Ainsley, Martin, and Jessica tell Malcolm how good they think Dani is for him breaks my heart. Look at how happy Malcolm looks. Look at how desperately Malcolm wants this to be real. Ugh. My heart is shattered.

35:20 - “You’re the best, big brother.” Even Malcolm’s subconsious knows that he’s an excellent big brother. Seriously, I love my younger brother but I don’t think I could ever cover up a murder for him. Never mind dispose of the body. Maybe I would? IDK the situation has never come up (thankfully).

35:25 - .....aaannnnnndd we’re back to the Girl in the Box.

35:58 - “Why would you ever want to leave?” “Because it’s all a lie.” Isn’t Malcolm living a lie IRL too? He’s pretending that Ainsley is a law-abiding citizen. He’s pretending that he isn’t an accomplice in a murder. He’s living in constant fear because of his secrets. They’re going to destroy him. This is why I think a suicide attempt is a possibility for this season. This trauma is a lot bigger (in some ways) than last season’s. Plus - Malcolm has a lot of pre-existing trauma. This could be the metaphoric straw that breaks the camel’s back.

36:45 - “Even in my wildest dream. I’m still a detective. I need to seek the truth. No matter how painful.” That’s it. That’s Malcolm’s character in a nutshell. “Traumatized boy who intentionally puts himself through more trauma for the sake of seeking the truth.”

37:01 - “You’re right. I need to work on that.”.......if Malcolm tells Gil and/or the team about Ainsley next episode I will lose my mind.

37:15 - TOM PAYNE. YOU ABSOLUTE TREASURE. THIS IS SUCH A GREAT PERFORMANCE. THOSE UNSHED TEARS. THAT DESPERATE ANGER. THAT HOPELESSNESS AND DESPAIR. <3 <3 <3 <3

38:21 - Look, I’m a mechanical engineering student (not an expert) but if that was a wooden stick like I think it is - that would’ve NEVER stopped an elevator (at least, not long enough for Malcolm to escape). But I’ll overlook it for whump. Because Malcolm has a head wound and I’m loving it.

38:33 - I’ve rewatched this clip of Malcolm with a bloody face meeting JT and Dani about 50 times (wish I was exaggerating that number). There is something so gorgeous about this scene. I mean - the fact that Malcolm is clearly in physical and emotional pain is enough to make my whump heart sing but it’s more than that. Listen to the genuine concern in JT’s voice when he says, “You okay?”. Look at Dani’s concerned face. Listen to how soft and desperate Malcolm’s voice is when he says, “When was the last time I talked to you?” Look at how concerned and confused JT and Dani are when Malcolm says, “I know who the killer is.” They’re not scared of Malcolm. They’re scared for Malcolm. Malcolm just showed up covered in blood, he can’t walk straight, he’s clearly confused, and now he’s claiming that he’s solved the case. They’re worried about him and they have every right to be. Listen to how broken Malcolm sounds when he says, “Long story.” <3 <3 <3 I’m in love with this scene.

39:19 - “Are you sure about this?” “I have no idea.” This. Is. Important. JT and Dani have every reason to believe that this old man isn’t a killer but Malcolm’s head injury is making him confused. BUT they choose to trust Malcolm (or at the very least, humour him). They trust him enough to take a risk on him and I think that’s beautiful. I think that’s exactly what Malcolm needed after his nightmare of an AU dream. He needed to know that they care about him IRL. I hope he notices their behaviour despite the head injury.

39:35 - Malcolm puts the skull down with his ungloved hand. I’m blaming the head injury.

39:55 - Look this was a really moving scene. The parallel of Malcolm arresting a serial killer in front of the serial killer’s child and Martin being arrested in front of Malcolm is haunting. HOWEVER, when that old man stood up from the wheelchair my stupid brain went “THAT ASSHOLE NEVER EVEN NEEDED THE WHEELCHAIR?!?”.....even though he literally wasn’t in a wheelchair in Malcolm’s dream.

40:40 - WE WERE ROBBED. I want to see the scene where Malcolm explains his dream to the team. I want to see GIL. WHERE THE EFF IS GIL IN THIS EPISODE?!?! FURTHERMORE - I WANT THE IRL VERSION OF “MALCOLM GOES TO THE HOSPITAL FOR A HEAD INJURY” SCENE. WTF FEDAK. GIVE ME THE AFTERCARE.

40:47 - “That man will be buried in a turtleneck.” hahahahahaha OMG. Iconic.

41:27 - “Goodnight Malcolm.” <3 <3 <3 She called him Malcolm IRL. Excuse me while I go and stoke my slow burn Brightwell fire.

41:36 - “Goodnight.” This is the face of a man who just accepted the fact that he will never be happy. Malcolm honestly doesn’t think he deserves to be in a relationship. Especially with someone as beautiful, kind, and talented as Dani.

41:40 - THAT HAT. Was this really in Season 1?!?! I don’t remember it? But holy hell - I want to see Malcolm wear it. Like now. It’s going to make me laugh. I can feel it.

41:53 - Immediately you can hear that something is wrong in Ainsley’s voice. She sounds distracted, dissociated, and scared.

42:14 - Give. Tom. Payne. An. Emmy. Listen to his voice breaking here. He’s so close to tears and it’s genuinely beautiful. Such an astounding performance.

42:51 - I honestly think Ainsley is shaking her head because she realizes that she made a mistake. She came to Malcolm because she thought he killed Endicott. She thought that he’d be able to understand. That he’d be able to help her because he had committed the same crime she just committed. She was wrong. He can help her - but legally, he really shouldn’t.

43:08 - Look. A new scene for Malcolm’s night terrors.

43:15 - Yep. This is going to drive Malcolm into a mental breakdown. This is bad.

43:20 - There’s a part of me that wants Malcolm to tattle on Ainsley. Just so he doesn’t have to keep the secret any longer. The secret is killing him. Telling won’t make the situation any better though. Gil and the team will react horribly and it’ll make Malcolm feel like garbage. Plus I can only imagine how the press would scrutinize the Whitly’s again. It won’t be good any way you slice it.

I have a love/hate relationship with this episode. On one hand - it’s the cannon AU episode that every fanfiction lover dreams of. It’s also a really compelling episode complete with some excellent acting and great insight into Malcolm’s psyche. HOWEVER: 1) not enough Gil, 2) WHERE IS MY WHUMP AFTERCARE?, and 3) I wanted to see Malcolm at the base of that elevator for longer. The whump wasn’t prolonged enough for my sick soul.

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

10 Dates | The Confessions Date

Summary: Kim Junmyeon was the epitome of a perfect catch - he was successful, handsome and everything you currently didn’t want in a man. Yet after agreeing to his request to give him 10 dates in total to change your mind, you realised you might have been looking for someone like him all along.

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon x reader

Genre: dating au / romance

Warnings: none

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

After a morning spent in bed exploring one another intimately, you had walked along the River Arno, tried delicious gelato, visited more museums and monuments than you could count on one hand and eaten your weight worth in Italian bread. Another evening was spent out until the night grew old, and the sheets in your bed were ruined by the morning. It was constant heaven and when you got into a rented car to travel to Florence for the rest of your stay in Tuscany, you had believed there was a high possibility that you had already died and this was the afterlife.

It was all too magical to comprehend otherwise.

And even with all your mental preparation, as soon as you saw the Duomo in the distance, you were a lost cause. “Junmyeon, I’m sorry in advance if I cease any type of expected etiquette from here on out.”

“That overwhelmed?” he asked as you gripped onto your seatbelt, your eyes round as saucers and breathing became harder to do naturally.

“I don’t think I prepared you well enough for the history buff within me,” you explained and vaguely heard him chuckle.

You couldn’t explain it. Being in the city with so much rich history and architecture, the birthplace of the Renaissance art movement, and the place of your dreams since you were a teenager, left you utterly speechless. You didn’t know what to look at first or if your brain could even store as much as you were pleading with it to do. The hotel you stayed in held no effect on you once you found the windows, opening them up and staring out at your current world dreamily.

You flinched when Junmyeon reached around you to offer you a drink of water. It made you blink a few times before taking it. He grinned when you finally looked at him. “I should be offering you something with bubbles right now. It might calm your nerves.”

“I’m really here, aren’t I?”

He nodded, rubbing your upper arm repeatedly and you shivered. Junmyeon put his glass down on the small tabletop before encasing you in his arms.

For a moment, even with the dazzling world you wanted to memorise inch by inch, you sighed with comfort into his embrace. Since becoming intimate with him, there was no place you enjoyed more than being buried in his chest. He was always so warm and listening to his heart worked enough to bring peace to your erratic system.

You glanced up at him and shared a grateful expression and a kiss before looking back outside. “I’m glad I’m seeing all this with you, Junmyeon. My friends Kelsi and Ayla aren’t into history like I am. Which is fine, I was going to come here by myself when the time was right. But being with you makes it all that much more special.”

“You better stop with all these beautiful words you keep sharing on this trip or I might go ahead and ruin it,” he told you, blinking a few times and then looked outside, away from your sudden gaze on him.

“Ruin it how?”

“With some little words that shouldn’t come out too early,” he admitted and you smiled giddily.

“What if they come from me first?”

“I’ll call your bluff.”

You gaped at the man and pulled back to arm’s length to pout at him. “Hey!”

“Tell me when we’re back home. This place is our current paradise and it makes everything seem amazing to us right now. Those types of words need to wait until we’re back in reality.”

You thought over his reasoning and nodded. He was right, it would be all too easy with being caught up in the moment to rush ahead and say things that weren’t needed just yet. Two months could easily be enough time for someone to fall in love, and the romantic within you was certainly gearing up for it.

However, the whole reason you were hesitant to date in the first place was from those past experiences. Once you had confessed to love in the past, it crumbled away, the illusion of your adoration replaced with reality. There was no love at all, at least, not the kind you were searching to capture you for the rest of your life.

It could wait until you returned home. Until months had gone by and this dizzying honeymoon period had eased off. That was the most logical.

Your heart yearned for a little more magic, however.

By the third day in Florence, logic had all but left you. You were surrounded by a world you had travelled only through textbooks. It was right before your eyes, tantalising your senses everywhere you looked, listened and touched. When you thought you couldn’t be further impressed, you would enter another museum, exhibition or monument and fall further in love with Italy.

And with the man at your side.

As you walked around the Boboli Gardens listening to the guide over the Medici history, you found yourself thinking more about your return home than taking in everything around you. You wondered how much it would hurt to come back down to reality, to wake up in your bed back home and no longer at Junmyeon’s side. Would you be satisfied with sending him off to his dreams each night with a simple farewell over the phone instead of a kiss? Would you still see much of him once you were both back at work and pursuing the next big project? You knew he wasn’t going to just disappear from your world but you had gotten a taste of what it was like to spend time with him and you weren’t quite ready to stop doing just that.

Smiling to yourself, you decided you didn’t care how hard it would get at times; you would balance having a relationship with him. You grew excited for the comfortable moments to come, the bickering, the mundane parts to dating someone. So far, you had nothing to see Junmyeon any less for. He had ticked all the boxes you hadn’t believed he would and then some.

The adventure wouldn’t end just because you weren’t in Italy anymore.

So, when you were back in the centre of the city, you stopped walking around the Fountain of Neptune in the Piazza della Signoria and turned to Junmyeon, reaching for his hand.

“I can’t wait.”

“For dinner?” he questioned, checking his watch. “Baby, we have about an hour until our reservation.”

You stilled at the use of the nickname, your heart swelling further. Junmyeon seemed to become aware of what he said, rubbing at his neck a little awkwardly.

“Oh uh, I just said that.”

You grinned. “That you did.”

“You liked it,” he observed and you nodded quickly. A smile erased his hesitance and Junmyeon then beamed at you. “I know another secret about you.”

“I hardly would call that a secret. It’s a common nickname for a partner.”

He faltered. “Common. Maybe I need something better?”

“No,” you spoke firmly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love it… I love a lot about you.”

“You’re getting dangerously close to words we agreed we’d keep to ourselves, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to keep them anymore,” you announced, brushing your nose over his as you moved in towards his lips. “I can’t keep them to myself. I’m falling for you.”

“I’ve waited years for this,” he said softly and you blinked in confusion.

Years?

Junmyeon seemed lost in his thoughts. “I never expected you to say them so easily to me either.”

You tried to dismiss the moment. He’s meaning for a love like this. Not you specifically, you thought, still blinking in hope that would settle some of the way he had said it in your mind.

However, there was the unmistakable shift in his eyes, the same one you had seen back at his house, shrouding you from the knowledge he seemed to bear. You wished you hadn’t seen it. Been able to fool yourself into the sentence you told yourself, to hold onto those loving sentiments you both had shared.

Junmyeon knew you had seen it too and the confessions fell flat, straight into the fountain behind you, sinking like your heart was.

Was this the catch you had been waiting for unnervingly?

“Junmyeon,” you started, and watched as he moistened his lips in preparation of your heavy question. “What made you go on that first date with me?”

“The first date?” he repeated, trying to smile but it didn’t light up his eyes as it usually did. He was simply trying to buy time, figuring out his path forward. You implored him for an answer and after glancing around the bustling plaza, Junmyeon pointed to one of the alleys that would lead someplace perhaps quieter. You weren’t sure even away from all the people that your mind would silence, the buzz growing louder the longer you impatiently waited for his answer.

Eventually, he found a stone bench for you to sit down on, clasping his hands together as he looked at his feet. “It would have been much the same as it was for you.”

“Kelsi set me up with you. Her work colleague is friends with yours and showed your profile to her. I still don’t know why she put me forward instead of herself though,” you explained calmly despite the noise in your head. You closed your eyes, hoping it would settle it some. “Wasn’t it the same for you?”

“It was,” he stated slowly and then sighed. “It wasn’t the first time I was shown a person to go out on a date with.”

“Likewise.”

“Normally I would insist to Chanyeol that I was too busy to date because my career is in a pretty pivotal moment right now, if I’m honest. The last thing I needed was to start dating.”

Snapping your gaze to his side profile, you frowned. “Then why?”

“I couldn’t turn you down,” he answered, nodding along with his statement. Junmyeon’s eyes remained downcast and you wondered why he couldn’t look at you right now. What was so big that would make him feel less able to stare at you whilst he talked? His smile turned bittersweet. “Because I know you.”

“What? No, you don’t,” you corrected, your gaze narrowing on him. Finally, Junmyeon looked up, his expression sincere. “I really don’t-”

“We grew up in the same area and although we went to different high schools, I know you from back then.”

“How?”

“We did an interschool competition one year. You were on the history quiz team, remember?”

Your memories travelled back to a younger period in your life, growing clearer with the more thought you put into it. Junmyeon smiled again. “I was on the athletics team.”

Blinking some more, you tried to find the younger version of him in your memories but you came up blank. He seemed aware of this, nodding again.

“I don’t think you would remember me much. But I remember you.”

“Because of a high school competition, you decided to go on a date with me as adults? That’s nothing to be so concerned over; some might think that’s sweet.”

Junmyeon sighed heavily. “I liked you so much that I convinced a friend who I knew at your school to help me out. He gave me some pointers on how to approach you and then when it came time to, I was beaten to it.”

“Beaten?” you echoed and then sighed with realisation. “Do Kyungsoo.”

“Do Kyungsoo,” he confirmed with a light laugh, leaning back. “You dated him for what, a year?”

You were surprised he had known how long you dated for. Still, you shrugged. “Only for him to break it off when he said we weren’t compatible.”

“I had the biggest crush on someone I didn’t really know. I mean, I tried to know you. Once you meet someone, it becomes easy to see them everywhere. We have crossed paths in life, even as adults, multiple times before that date, you know.”

“Really?”

Junmyeon nodded. “I tried dating others but I guess the juvenile part of me who didn’t get the girl of my teenage dreams wasn’t satisfied. If it wasn’t you, I wasn’t interested.”

“Wow, you thought so highly of me,” you murmured, unsure of how to feel.

Should it be endearing? You felt a little uncomfortable thinking there had been moments in life where Junmyeon had watched you, had felt something for you and you had no idea he even existed.

“So when your picture crossed my desk, I thought maybe this was a sign. That’s why I agreed to the date. And then you politely turned me down. Was this what the universe had wanted me to understand all along?” Junmyeon wasn’t talking to you, but rather himself, perplexed over the concept. He then shook his head. “I couldn’t let you go this time. Not without trying. Which is why I came after you-”

“And suggested the ten dates,” you finished and Junmyeon nodded.

“But here we are in Italy, enjoying each other and our dream. Yours is the place and mine is… well, I guess, it’s you.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you would be considering I’m aware how this must sound to you.”

“It is a lot to take on,” you admitted, chewing on your lip.

“I’ve been honest about my approach this whole time, Y/N.”

“Except when you acted like it was your first meeting with me.”

“Well it was, I had only liked you from afar.”

“Maybe it’s best we leave it in the past,” you stated, standing up and inhaling a deep breath.

Junmyeon didn’t join you. “Don’t you have something to say too?”

“Me?”

“Your friends coming on that second date wasn’t a coincidence.”

“That was innocent, simply a backup plan.”

“You said yes to ten dates but wanted to ensure you could find a way out if I didn’t present well?” he surmised and you nodded.

“I didn’t know what to think back then about you. I didn’t think we matched, remember?”

Junmyeon stood up and held out his hand for yours. “Can we go back to smiling and having a good time? We have only one day left in Italy. The truths we’ve confessed to, let’s navigate them back home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, slipping your hand into his waiting one.

It didn’t feel the same as before.

_________________

Part 8

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Darkest Storms & Brightest Rainbows (Part 1)

MASTERLIST

Part 2

Part 3

Hard Love (unoffical part 4)

Finally, the first part of my “Cat fic” is here! I kept some lines and plot lines from the show, but I also added some different elements. For example, there’s a lot of scenes/references from Entropy and Date Night later on, but I didn’t include much from Red Light. You’ll soon see why.

I began this at the end of last year and didn’t think it would see the light of day as it wasn’t going anywhere. But after some inspiration, I finally finished it. I decided to break it into three parts in honor of the three Cat episodes. Besides, if I had wrote one long fic it would’ve probably been around 15k words. Anyway, this way I can leave you guys hanging in suspense for a little bit (mwhaha 😏). Lastly, I just wanted to say I chose this title for this 3-parter because the characters go through some dark storms but also experience some bright rainbows along the way throughout this story. Enough of my rambling, I hope you all enjoy. 🥰

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (part 1 only has some angst)

Word Count: 4,143

It’s truly fascinating how one small drop can create a ripple in the water.

That was what meeting Spencer Reid was like.

It was a typical day at work at the coffee shop you’d been employed at for almost a year. Life had slowly been getting somewhat back to normal for you. It had been a hard previous year when you lost both parents to a car crash. Living alone was difficult, but you were making it work.

It was like a breath of fresh air to find work in a DC neighborhood cafe. You loved being able to form relationships with some frequent customers and hear about their days; it was surprisingly very cathartic to connect with so many people after feeling so much loss.

There had been a small breather between waves of numerous customers when he had first appeared at your counter for a coffee.

His order was just as unique as he was; coffee with whole milk and a little bit of honey.

He was cute. He was really cute.

His shaggy brown hair was probably just a touch too long and in need of a cut, but his loose curls made it work and it looked good on him. He had light eyes that would shift from green to brown, depending on how the sun shone through the window next to the counter and a smile so bright it rivaled the sun’s rays.

Something else you’d noticed, he was tall. Possibly 6 feet, if you were to guess. With a lean frame and a slight shyness about him, you were instantly intrigued.

You saw him more often, never managing to get his name, but managing to pick up the tiniest details about him.

There was a slight cleft to his chin, a shadow of a feature that was dominant in some others, but only was fully shown on him at certain angles.

The same went for the chameleon like dimples he sported, only showing up now and then. Every time, they made your stomach flutter, just about as much as he did.

He had a smattering of freckles that you could mainly see only up close. Not the usual freckles that would be across the bridge of the nose and cheeks on an average person, but random ones. A few under the outer corner of one eye, a lone one on the far side of his forehead, one on the side of his cheek, just along his cheekbone, another larger one on the opposite side just underneath his earlobe, plus many more tiny ones scattered everywhere.

Everything about him was unique.

His hands were large and gentle, always carefully handing you money for his drink and taking his order from you.

He was sweet and always polite, asking you how your day was going, wishing you a good day when he left.

He also had these small habits of licking his lips or squinting his eyes just the tiniest bit, without even being aware of the actions.

It was actually a bit pathetic how much you’d learned about this stranger yet couldn’t even muster up the courage to ask for his name.

It was one day, maybe six months after you’d first met the handsome stranger when you decided to take a chance.

He’d come in bright and early before 8 am dressed in gray dress pants, a purple dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a two toned purple tie. Slung across his body and resting on his hip was his usual tan satchel that you’d seen him with every day. You didn’t even have a clue what his job was.

“Morning,” he greeted with a bright smile.

You greeted him back, automatically reaching for his coffee that’d you’d been in the midst of preparing.

“Large coffee, whole milk and honey?”

“As always,” he chuckled.

Unlike other larger chains, it wasn’t a normal thing to label a person’s drink with their name, so it wasn’t easy to find out his name; hence why you still hadn’t learned it.

You were fastening the lid, about to hand it to him when you asked.

“Um, just out of curiosity, who would this coffee be labeled for?”

The minute the words were out of your mouth you wanted to take them back. It sounded so awkward and weird. Labeled for? You wanted to hit yourself.

A small smile tugged on his lips.

“Spencer. Nice to meet you—” he paused, waiting for you to fill in with your name.

“Y/N.”

He took his drink, turning to leave before pausing.

“Have a great day, Y/N.”

Less than a month later, you’d gone on your first date with Spencer.

•

Three years later, life looked a lot different.

You no longer worked at the coffee shop, but now worked from home. It took a little time, but you eventually found out you had a passion for being a social media manager for different brands. You loved social media and posting content for brands was rather fun.

You and Spencer had hit it off during that first date, considering you’d been dating for almost three years now.

As much as you missed your previous work family, you had a big new family that you’d come to be an (unofficial) part of, within these last few years.

You had finally found out after a few dates that Spencer worked for the FBI in a unit called the Behavioral Analysis Unit as a profiler; a position that uses an art of studying behavior and a lot of psychology to catch killers. It was interesting, but dangerous work. It did come with some good things though, like a work family that was like a real family. You, too, had grown close to his team members through the last few years. They were like the family you had desperately needed since your parents’ passing.

It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows in the BAU between the long hours and dangerous cases, but you were always there for Spencer. You were so proud of him and impressed by how good he was at his job; you were also proud to call him your boyfriend.

Recently, the BAU was dealing with a group of assassins, some that were hired through the deepest parts of the dark web. It had begun with one hit man that specialized in making his hits look like accidents. He had been seeking revenge on his customers and that led to the BAU discovering that there were a whole network of hitmen, each known for their own method of killing.

There was a chemist.

A sniper.

A bomber.

And the deadliest of them all, Ms. .45.

A black widow, Spencer called her.

She’d been the only one to evade capture and Spencer was going to be the one to lure her out.

You were freaked, to put it mildly. Just from what Spencer had told you about this woman, you knew dangerous didn’t even begin to describe her.

Unlike her former “co-workers”, she liked to be up close and personal with her targets. She played her games and when she was done, she’d shoot them without a morsel of guilt to drag her conscious down.

“Spencer, I really don’t think you should do this.”

You were sitting on the bed, watching him loosen his tie as he simultaneously told you about this case and changed out of his work clothes.

“Y/N, it’s better if I do it,” he said, turning to face you, his tie now hanging undone around his neck.

“Why you though?”

It wasn’t often that you argued and you couldn’t exactly count this as a fight, but you both definitely stood on opposite sides of this matter.

“I’m the closest to her age on the team. If anything goes wrong, she’ll be most likely to negotiate with a peer.”

“But Spencer,” you frowned, “I don’t like the sound of how dangerous she is. If she believes that you’re a client, she could kill you.”

“We aren’t going to let it get that far,” he assured, sitting down on the side of the bed, next to you.

“I just worry about you, always being in dangerous situations. I know it’s just a part of dating someone who works in your profession, but what if something happens to you?”

You can’t help the tiny crack of emotion in your voice and he pulls you into his arms.

“Nothing will happen to me, okay?”

You nodded into his chest and he pulled back, frowning at you.

“I don’t like to see you sad. I want to see that pretty smile of yours.”

His fingers tickled your side and you tried to hold back the laugh bubbling in your throat. You were extremely ticklish and he only ever used that against you at a time like this.

“Stop,” you squealed, trying to wriggle away from his touch, but he kept tickling you.

“Nope, not a chance,” he grinned.

You fell back on the bed, laughing and squirming as he continued his tickle torture.

“There we go,” he smiled, satisfied, “There’s that smile.”

You grinned more shyly as he cupped your face with his hand and kissed you gently.

“Just be safe, okay?”

“Always.”

He kissed you again, his lips parting from yours to trail down your jaw to your neck.

“Is this your way of distracting me?” you chuckled.

“Hmm, maybe,” he smirked.

“No complaints from this corner.”

His lips returned to yours, kissing you with such intensity, it left you breathless for a moment. Your lips moved with his, your hands tangled in his hair.

The rest of the evening was spent doing nothing other than a little fooling around.

•

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Garcia asked.

On the screen of her computer you saw Spencer entering the restaurant and speaking to the hostess before being seated.

“I’m sure,” came a moment later.

“We’ll protect him Y/N.”

This statement came from Aaron Hotchner—Hotch for short—, Spencer’s boss. You were grateful that Hotch had even let you be here, yet still the dread twisted in your stomach.

Garcia had hacked into the cameras to allow you three to see what was going on during this take down. Spencer sat facing the camera.

Only moments after he’d been seated at the table did a petite woman walk up.

She was slim with a short, angled cut. Her dark hair seemed to be in perfect place, just like the fake smile she was showing. She was dressed in a form fitting teal, sleeveless dress. The bottom was embellished in some sort of sparkling beads or perhaps rhinestones. She looked harmless enough, but you knew better. Looks could be very deceiving.

“Reid, we have you over her left shoulder. Do you copy?”

You watch as your boyfriend briefly glances straight towards the camera and taps a quick, stealthy answer on the table, with two fingers.

“I already hate her,” you glowered at the screen, watching as her hand lingered on his arm, seduction written all over her face.

“Put the claws away tiger,” Penelope muttered.

“So, how far along is your wife?” the hit woman you now know was named Cat, asked.

You watch Spencer swallow nervously, playing the part of an apprehensive first time customer.

“A few months. Do you, uh mind if we don’t talk about her?”

Cat was quiet for a moment. You can’t see her face, but somehow you just know she’s studying him.

“Let me see your ring.”

He furrowed his brows, but took it off handing it to her.

“You say you’ve been married for four years, right Spencer?” She studies the band, turning it over in her hand.

“Yeah.”

“For a 24 karat ring, it sure looks rather cheap. Apparently she loves you as much as you love her,” she tossed the ring on the table with a clank.

“Also, if it were four years old, it’d look more worn, don’t you think?”

You hear a click over the audio. It sounded suspiciously like a gun cocking and your eyes widened in horror.

Penelope gasped.

“Is that what I think it was?”

“Yes,” Hotch answered her, “She knows.”

“You’re not married Spencer.” Her gun was pointing at him under the table, unbeknownst to the other diners in the restaurant.

“And guess what? I didn’t walk into your trap. You walked into mine.”

“Oh no,” Penelope breathed.

“I’ve got a gun pointed at your crotch right now, Spencer. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out right now? It’d be such a shame; doesn’t Y/N want kids?”

“Hotch,” you growled, “He didn’t sign up for this.”

“He knows what he’s doing. Let him handle this. If it truly becomes a dire situation, we have backup in there with him.”

You pick at your nails, tuning back into Spencer and Cat’s conversation.

He ignored her remark, continuing to stare her down.

“You honestly think I’m dumb enough to waltz in here thinking you’re just another deadbeat asshole that’s tired of his wife? I know way more than you think I do. The BAU is the only one that got this close to us. But I’m still the only one left,” she smirked.

“Doesn’t mean anything. I’m good at what I do,” Spencer retorted.

“Tell me. Are you this cocky with Y/N?”

Your eyes narrowed, glaring at the screen.

“I’d love to shove my foot right up her-”

“Y/N,” Hotch chided.

“Sorry.”

She’d scooted around the booth closer to him, her hand sliding into his suit jacket and down his button down shirt. You couldn’t clearly see what she was doing, but you got the general idea. He jumped when her hand brushed his crotch before reaching into the waist of his pants, pulling out his gun with a smirk.

“So tell me, did you actually knock her up or was that just part of your cover? I mean unless you’re here to put a hit on her which is totally fine by me. I’m not one for commitment either.”

“You leave her out of this,” he growled, glaring at her.

“I bet you’re wondering how I know about her, right? Probably the same way I know that Blondie over there is part of your team, just waiting to take me down. Am I right?”

Spencer stayed quiet, his gaze hard on her.

“Do me a favor and tell her to take a hike will you?”

“Stand down,” Hotch says from next to you. You know enough about the plan to know that the entire team can hear messages from him here at the BAU.

You watched as JJ set the drink she’d been sipping on, down on the bar. She’d dressed in leather pants, a low cut black top with a quarter length sleeved, maroon fur jacket over it to appear as just another fancy dinner guest. She passed their table before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Thanks for playing, sweetie,” Cat smiled at her disappearing form.

“Now, tell me more about yourself Spencer. Why don’t you?”

Cat rested her chin in her hand and watched him, her gun laying by her side where she could have easy access to it.

“Don’t you already know all about me?”

“True,” she made a face, “Then tell me all about me.”

“Well, for one, you’re quite loquacious.”

“I’m gonna pretend that means sexy,” she grinned flirtatiously.

“Gag me with a spoon,” you mumbled.

“Now, like I said,” Cat continued, “Tell me about me.”

“You’re a psychopath that runs a different course than the rest of your fellow hit men. You like to be up close and personal, watch men lie and try to seduce them all before turning on them and killing them. Which in itself speaks to many deep rooted issues.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m just another woman with daddy issues?”

“You said it, not me.”

“So, how exactly did you find me?” She rested her chin on her laced fingers and cocked her head at him.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. It all started unraveling when we first took down what we thought was a lone hit man. One who specified in making hits look like accidents.”

You can hear Spencer still talking through the monitor as you paced back and forth behind Hotch and Garcia, your nerves getting the best of you.

You jump when you hear loud feedback from the mic.

“What was that?”

“She muffled the mic. We lost audio,” Penelope grimaced.

On the screen, you can see Cat’s hand on his tie, thumb over the microphone, her mouth moving as she says something to Spencer. He turns in the direction where Rossi was slyly approaching their table.

With a few words that were unheard to the three of you, Rossi backed off, heading towards the kitchen.

“She caught on to Dave being there too,” Hotch mumbled.

“Hotch, this is not going as you planned, is it?”

Your question remained unanswered and by the way his posture remained rigid you knew you were right. That did little to reassure you.

“Entropy reigns supreme in this whole situation,” you grumbled.

You looked over and saw Hotch and Garcia staring at you quizzically.

“What? Isn’t another definition for that, lack of order or predictability or gradual decline into disorder?”

Hotch arched an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I used it wrong. I’ve heard Spencer use it before. This is why he’s the genius and not me.”

Nothing else was said on the matter as you three’s attention was turned back to the screen where Cat was talking to Spencer again.

“I’ll let that slide considering I learned something important about you.”

“What’s that?” Spencer questioned.

“Your backup. I’ve flushed them out. It’s just you and me now.”

“Guess again, bitch,” you mumbled.

You knew, as well as the rest of the team, that Tara and Morgan were still in there.

“I know you’re stalling, but why?”

“Cause I know there has to be a pretty impressive crowd of agents out front, just waiting to take me down.”

“You’d be correct,” Spencer deadpanned.

“Which is why you’re going to walk me out of here. I get away with no issues and no one gets hurt. If not,” she paused.

She ran her fingertips over the gun that she’d moved to the table, just in his line of sight.

“I have a fully loaded gun that can do quite some damage.”

“You won’t do it though,” he challenged.

“Oh wouldn’t I?”

“No because shooting up a restaurant isn’t your style. You’re more calculated than that. You like less mess, more mind games.”

“So you do understand me, Spencer,” she smirked, “Then you’d understand that I need you to call off all the FBI agents so I can leave quietly.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Spencer shrugged, not breaking his eye contact from her, “I’m not letting you walk out of here if I have to hold you down myself.”

“Would you hold me down and leave bruises that wouldn’t go away?” she purred.

“Is that what you want?”

“I bet that’s what Y/N wants,” Garcia mumbled.

You opened your mouth to respond, not sure if she meant you doing bodily harm to Cat or your wanting Spencer to do that to you.

“Focus,” Hotch reprimanded.

“No, I want the agents cleared.” Her hand tightened on her piece.

“Everyone stand down,” Hotch ordered, “We let her walk. Reid let her go.”

“Well?” Cat pressed.

You saw him bite his lip, clearly trying to make up his mind what to do.

“Reid. Let her go.”

“Spencer?”

Cat was getting annoyed, that much you could tell and you knew she was definitely a person you didn’t piss off.

“Fine, you can go.”

She gathered her things, standing up to leave.

“But you won’t,” Spencer said.

She turned, gazing at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I found your father,” Spencer challenged.

“Reid, what are you doing?” Hotch asked, glancing at Garcia who just shrugged in response.

“Spencer, no,” you whispered, anxiety flooding your senses.

He was playing with fire and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get burned.

“Tell me where he is,” Cat demanded.

“Sit down and I will.”

You glance at the two next to you.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“No,” came the terse answer from Hotch.

You see her sit once again across from Spencer.

“To prepare for tonight, I had to do my research on you,” he started.

“Is that so?”

“Lewis, Morgan, try to clear out the restaurant as subtly as possible. If this goes wrong, she could start shooting. I don’t want any injuries on my conscience tonight,” Hotch commanded.

You didn’t see their movement on the screen, but within a few minutes there were more than the normal amount of waiters moving along the tables.

“I found your father Cat,” Spencer continued, in effort to distract her.

“You’re lying.”

“Does it look like I’m lying?”

“No, but I know you are because I never mentioned that I found him myself. He’s been dead for years, Spencer.”

You saw her reach for her gun at the exact moment a commotion towards the front of the restaurant broke out. You couldn’t see on screen what was happening, but it was all the distraction she needed.

Hotch was barking orders and you heard Spencer shouting something to Morgan.

It was later you found out that against Lewis and Morgan’s wishes, someone—most likely a waiter—had started freaking out. Whether that caused the following events to happen or not you would never know, but it sure didn’t help them either.

“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped.

Your eyes were glued to the screen and the horrible events that were beginning to unfold.

Cat had Spencer by the arm and her gun was pointed directly at him. She had him in her claws and she wasn’t about to let him go without a fight.

“Get everyone out of here!” Spencer hollered.

You heard the rest of the people fleeing the dining room, Tara aiding them, but you didn’t take your eyes off of Cat and Spencer.

“Well lookie here,” she grinned up at Spencer, “Back where we started. You and me and a gun.”

“We can talk this out,” Morgan said, slowly approaching, his gun still aimed Cat's way.

“I don’t know Agent Morgan,” she smirked, “I don’t like liars. How do I know that Spencer is true to his word? He’s already lied once.”

“Let him go and we’ll talk,” Morgan said.

“It’s too late for that.”

A loud crash came from the front of the restaurant. Distraction number two. You couldn’t tell if it had been planned by Cat or not, either way, it was her perfect moment to strike.

Multiple gunshots sounded.

Time slowed down.

Penelope cried out.

Hotch cursed.

You fell to your knees.

In a split second Cat had shot Spencer and he went down, bright red blood beginning to stain his dress shirt.

Shots were fired from Morgan’s gun. Tara went running after Cat, Morgan went running to Spencer’s side.

There was commotion on the screen. Tara came back in from the direction of the kitchen where Cat had run. Luck must have been on her side because she had disappeared into the night.

Everything changed in one quick moment.

Spencer had been shot and Cat had gotten away.

•

You had no memory of how you’d managed to get from the BAU to the hospital, but here you were, fidgeting in a chair, tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even had a chance to see him before you got to the hospital and you were wracked with worry with how he was.

The last thing you remembered was falling to the floor, your head feeling woozy as you tried to process what was unfolding before your eyes.

Spencer had been rushed into emergency surgery and you waited anxiously with the rest of the team in the waiting room. You were positive you hadn’t stopped shaking since you heard the gun go off.

The awful sound rang in your ears and every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Spencer falling to the ground, blood soaking his shirt.

You looked up when you heard the click of heels and saw JJ coming back with an update on Spencer. The look on her face sent a feeling of cold, icy, fear through your body.

“He didn’t make it,” she whispered.

A buzzing sound rang in your ears and you were sure you’d heard wrong.

“What?” you croaked.

“Spencer’s gone,” she choked out.

The guttural sobs that came from deep within you didn’t even sound human. Your anger and your pain melted into one.

Cat Adams would pay for this.

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tomiokai · 4 years

Text

More Than Friends || Spencer Reid

Masterlist

{not my gif}

A/N: Half wrote this one and typed the rest, so enjoy my pain and tears, cause my hand cramped after this lmao. THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETE IT IS A DEAD FIC SO JUST WARNING YOU BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO READ. At the ending I will explain what was supposed to happen.

(Edit Disclaimer) I’m so sorry I thought I put this here but, yes I know this is a Girl In Red song, but I really liked this song and I wanted to do a take on this song because I love the lyrics and the meaning of it. Also I am bi so I know what I’m doing lmao. ;)

Summary: This is a songfic to the song ‘I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend’ pretty self-explanatory. Listen to the song, the fic will make a lot more sense, and it’s a great song. The only thing is, replace ‘Hannah’ in the song to ‘Spencer’. (Unedited)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Category: Angst. Songfic.

Warnings: None:

Word Count: 1.9k

“I don’t want to be your friend, I wanna kiss your lip. I want to kiss you until I lose my breath.”

As the elevator closed with Maxine and Spencer in it I felt my heart drop.

I knew from the very start Spencer and Maxine were dating but seeing them together in an elevator sharing their first kiss just hits differently.

Heavy tears streamed down my face as I stood there, body frozen. No matter what I did not a single muscle in my body moved, the only movement was the tears from my eyes sliding down my cheeks and onto the maroon dress shirt I wore staining the soft fabric.

Ever since the first day I joined the BAU I had fallen for Spencer, 13 years ago. I was a little late to the team but that didn’t change a thing about how the team treated me. For years I have wanted to tell Spencer that I loved him, but every time the time was not right. Then Maeve happened and my hopes of telling Spencer I loved him passed away with Maeve. He was never going to love me the way he loved her. After that, I never had the courage to tell him how I really felt. Yet again I was too late, he has Maxine now, and he genuinely seemed happier with her than usual. My mind was never going to let me live down the fact that maybe that Spencer and I could’ve been if I had just talked to him before he met Maxine. What could have been.

“Hey Y/n you okay?” Instantly snapping out of my daze, my hand shot up to my face and wiped the tears away. Putting on the best possible smile I could manage I turned around to meet face to face with Luke.

“Luke! Hey! Yeah, I’m good,” I laughed, brushing it off.

“Y/n even if I wasn’t a profiler I could tell you’re upset and you’ve been crying, hiding it with laughter isn’t helping,” Luke stated walking up to stand beside me.

“It’s nothing really,” I reassured.

“I know you hate talking about your emotions Y/n but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m your guy,” Luke said patting my shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me Luke, if I ever needed anything you’re my speed dial,” I laughed for real this time.

“Alright, well I’m heading home. Don’t stay too long,” Luke says before disappearing into the elevator.

For a moment I almost wanted to chase after Luke and tell him everything but he wouldn’t have understood how I felt.

Quickly making my way into the bullpen, I went straight to my desk. Everyone had cleared out by then leaving an empty space for me. I had a phone call to make and I had to do it quickly.

“Are you sure you would like to do this?” Security asked.

“Yes. After I’m in I would like you to leave the perimeter, you can stand guard, but you can’t listen in.” I spoke clearly with authority in my voice.

“Yes ma’am,” Security said, leaving the room. I waited for a few minutes to make sure security was out and away for good.

Making sure no one was behind me I opened the door to the room and slipped in. sitting down across from the women I needed to talk to I sighed and crossed my arms.

“Tell me what it’s like,” I breathed.

“What’s what like?” The women asked.

“Don’t play games,” I snapped.

“I’m not playing any games Agent Y/l/n,” The woman lied.

“I may be no Spencer Reid but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re trying to manipulate the situation to your fitting, Catherine Adam,” I stated, hissing the last part.

“The world needs more women like us,” Cat laughs.

Choosing to ignore the obvious insult I rolled my eyes at her.

“From the moment I walked in here you already knew what I wanted,” I said, slamming my hands onto the steel table that separated us.

“You’re right Y/n. I do know what you want,” Cat says eyes darkening. “Let’s play a game!” She piped up, her whole demeanour changing real fast.

“No games!” I immediately said. “I’m not Spencer, Cat. I’m not so easy to manipulate and plus you don’t have any hostages that will make me play.”

“Oh that’s too bad, the game was going to be fun,” Cat sighed sarcastically.

“Any game from you is NOT fun,” I responded, emphasizing the ‘not’.

“Fine, you got me,” Cat said, playing with her hair.

“Now I’m going to ask you again. What was it like?” I deadpanned.

“What a pity, you’re just like me Y/n. We both want Spencer’s love,” Cat stalled. \

“I am not like you!” I hissed leaning forward.

Cat followed in suit and also hissed, “We are exactly the same.”

Leaning back in my seat, giving up on Cat, I proposed something different. “You’re right Cat, we are the same,” I said glancing at Cat who wore a smug grin. “And that’s why I'm willing to sign papers to move your death sentence to a life sentence and if they don’t approve of that I’ll push your death day back as far as I can.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me,” Cat asked.

“You can read men Cat and I bet you can read women too, so you tell me,” I shot back.

Cat studied me, my face, my breathing, and my body language. “You’re not lying,” Cat breathed in disbelief.

“So tell me and I’ll sign,” I offered one last time. I was desperate to feel what it was like to be something to Spencer.

Cat stares at me, disbelief written all over her face. A sly smile crawled onto her lips. “What do you want to know about Y/n, how he talks to me? How he touches me?” She asked, biting her lips.

Anyone could tell I visibly stiffened uncomfortably.

“Or how he kisses me feverishly or are you into some rough play, do you want me to tell you about how he throws me against walls, and chokes me roughly while whispering death threats to me?” Cat whispered, poison lacing her words.

She was straight up playing me now.

Slamming my hand onto the table yet again I yelled, “You know what it feels like to be rejected by Spencer Reid, Catherine. You know how I feel!”

“I know how that feels, but you don’t Y/n,” Cat bitterly says leaning back into her chair.

“I might as well know,” I laughed, tears spilling out my eyes, mixed emotions filling my body.

Loud laughter filled the closed air. Looking over at Cat I groaned in frustration for letting my emotions show and letting my vulnerability get the better of me.

“Tsk, Tsk Y/n, you of all people should know men are shit,” Cat says, suddenly dead serious.

“What are you talking about?” I asked calmly, but really I was panicking on the inside.

“Now don’t play dumb with me Y/n. I know all about you. We are EXACTLY the same.” She growls.

Standing up abruptly I pointed a finger at the Cat and hissed, “Deals off Cat,”. My face felt steaming hot, God there was probably steam coming out of both my ears.

Cat sighed a very heavy sigh and closed her eyes.

“By the way Catherine, we are not the same and we never will be,” I say before slamming the door closed.

First thought that came to mind, ‘well that went as expected.’

6 Months Later:

“Can you believe someone actually signed the papers for Cat Adams life sentence?” Emily asked, throwing down files on Cat Adams.

Spencer immediately perked up, “Wait who signed it?” He asked, but more like shouted.

“We don’t know It’s classified information way beyond Federal level,” Emily answered.

“If Penelope were here she would have already had the files pulled out,” Matt stated.

Guilt dissolved me completely by then. Knowing fully well I was the one who signed them even after I broke off the deal. Something had ignited in me that day, something that just made me sign them. I had absolutely no reason to but I did, I was surprised they even let them pass through.

“Guys I have an announcement to make,” Spencer said standing up and walking over to the font of the room. Everyone’s chair all spun to face the front simultaneously to listen to Spencer.

“I’m not going to stall so… Max and I are engaged, and everyone here is invited to the wedding!” Spencer said with a cheer.

My attention flew to Spencer. Never have I ever thought Spencer would take things so quickly with Maxine.

Everyone instantly stood up from where they sat and ran up to Spencer and engulfed Spencer in a hug and congratulated him while I sat in my seat in complete disbelief.

People swarmed around Spencer, completely blocking my view from him. My vision blurred as I stared at the group huddle. On instinct, I fled my seat and out of the room never looking back, not caring if anyone saw me.

Pulling out my phone I texted Emily and told her I felt sick and needed a day off, as I stormed off towards the garage to leave this place. I didn’t know exactly where I was going but I just drove. In the end, I ended up at home. I spent the rest of my day in bed wondering about Spencer and answering the occasional texts from the team asking me if I was alright. I wasn’t but they didn’t need to know that.

For the few weeks I had avoided Spencer, every time he would try to talk to me, the air would get tense and I would always come up with an excuse to get away before the conversation went too deep. Luke kept an eye on me the whole time, it was as if he knew what was up, but he didn’t say anything.

A/N: THIS IS WHERE I STOPPED WRITING OOPSIES. So I’ll just tell you what was supposed to happen. Y/n was supposed to confront Spencer at his engagement and tell him she loved him, and the verses “I don’t want to be your friend, I wanna kiss your lip. I want to kiss you until I lose my breath.” was supposed to happen, and basically Spencer has to reject her and on the wedding day Reader gets a phone call from Cat, offering her a deal but she rejects it and Reader moves away to the UK and yeah know BLAH BLAH BLAH and years later she comes back and discovers Spencer was murdered and she has to solve the case and in the end Cat did it. Yeah so that’s what happened could’ve been a sick story but I lost interest and couldn’t write it at all so sorry about that. Don't be too mad at me.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

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delirious-comfort · 4 years

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Regarding Shadow Haven.

You know when something happens and to many people it’s insignificant, but to you... it’s destructive. Painful. And people say, “Don’t give it more attention than it deserves,” but you’re silently fuming because it takes all your attention?

That’s me right now. That has been me all day every since I saw the post. One small comment, one giant accusation.

Now I can do two things. Post the screenshot here or not post the screenshot. Because the third option? To walk away silently? I can’t do that.

Today I scrolled through a group on Facebook and read the comments. It was about SQ fics that got turned into a books. Obviously, mine is one of those.

One of the comments said this:

“I used to like Shadow Haven until I found out the author was using their partner’s ideas and even having their partner write parts of the book for them, then took their name off everything and took all the credit.”

When someone called her out on the fact that it was a highly defamatory statement, she said this:

“I know I’m correct, because I watched the tail end of it happen. Don’t get me wrong, she did write some of it, but there was too much that she didn’t write for her to not put the other person’s name on it somewhere.”

At first I laughed, because how utterly ridiculous. Then I started to cry because there is one thing I cannot stand and it’s being accused of something I did not do. Then I got really angry. I think I am still very angry.

I feel the need to defend myself over a comment someone made with zero evidence to back it up. Because I wrote every last word of Shadow Haven myself.

The girl who accused me is a friend of one of my exes. Someone I have blocked. Someone I don’t wish to interact with. Someone who I didn’t think would sink so low as to lie about this, but she obviously has.

If you’ve ever followed Shadow Haven as it was published, you’ll know these things to be true:

- I started writing Shadow Haven before I met my ex.

- I finished Shadow Haven after I broke up with my ex. We dated for a short amount of time (6 months give or take). It wasn’t healthy and I wasn’t gonna stay in a relationship like that. I broke up with her about four weeks after my brother died because everyone has their limit and my limit was a comment of hers about my grief.

- Shadow Haven never has had a different author than me.

- My ex edited perhaps a couple of chapters for me, like any beta would do. If she added sentences to my work, I removed them. I can recall this happening once with the scene where Regina has the nightmare about the man on the island. I removed it because I didn’t like that, it was not her place to do so. It’s never any beta’s place to do so, btw. I can’t remember any other instances.

- I have never taken the ideas of my ‘partner’ nor has she written any parts of the book, nor was her name every on the fanfic, nor did I ever take it off. The only thing I removed was this comment: “This story is currently being edited by blabla.” Because we broke up and she stopped doing that way before we broke up because, you may recall, my brother died in 2016 (when I was with my ex) and I stopped writing for a while.

- Shadow Haven was so important to me. To show true representation. Then it became a whole different kind of important to me because I was working on the book version (because Ylva asked me before I finished the fic) while dealing with the grief of my brother dying.

But now there’s an accusation. And I can’t prove I didn’t nor can they prove I did. And it’s bothering me. The only proof I have is that the story is my voice. Every last word, because I wrote every single fucking word. And I am so angry about it and I don’t know how to let it go.

Many people have already showed their support to me. And it’s helped, but then I glance at the comment, and I get angry all over again. Because Shadow Haven is a fic I worked so hard on. Had so much pleasure working on. Made great friendships over. And now this fucking cloud is dooming over it. Because she won’t be the only person who would have been told this.

So what do I do now? How do I get over being so angry over one comment? Do I link you to my ex’s ao3 so y’all can go and compare our writing styles? Do I DM this girl on one of her three differently named Facebook profiles and tell her my side? Do I just... let it go?

Do I expose every last fucking lie my ex has ever told?

No. Because I don’t want to be like that.

But I can guarantee you this and I will die on this hill. Every last word in Shadow Haven was written by me. I never stole anyone’s ideas, nor did I ever ‘take’ any credit.

The credit belongs to me. Because I wrote it. I thought of it. I put down the very last sentence of Shadow Haven the day I wrote the first sentence and took many months to fill in everything in between.

Now this girl mentions the book and not the fic, so I’m honestly kind of confused which one she means. Because if she is actually talking about the book, I can show every last fucking edit I made as I turned it into a book. I have the digital proof of every last chapter. Time stamped. Date stamped. I have the comments and suggestions of the editor provided to me by my publisher and every single change I made because of it.

And you know? I did all those things way after I dated my ex. Because I was dating someone else at that time. Someone who lived with me. Someone who watched me day after day and night after night work on it. Someone who supported me and someone who earned the dedication I gave her at the time in the book.

So, to my ex, if you’re reading this. Please stop. Tell your friend the truth. If you wanted to hurt me, congratulations, you succeeded.

But I will never let you take Shadow Haven from me.

It is and always was, mine.

#so #do with that what you will #I will not be accused and take it silently

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years

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Hi guys! I I'm an ENXP and I was looking for some advice about knowing myself better. I saw the mods are ENPs and maybe you guys could help me. I recently noticed a pattern regarding my own actions that is basically ruining my life. I seem to rely too much on my Ne, specially about my future and my career. I'm ruled by a need of pursuing anything that catches my attention in a determined moment. I obsess over it for a while and then move on. I've changed my major 4 times now. Every activity I do is temporary. And if I don't find something I can obsess over I get depressed and bored. Anyways, I think this has led me to not trust myself anymore, since I can't commit to anything because I lose interest in everything and I'm always looking for new possibilities. I have reached a point where I can't allow myself to pursue everything I want and I have to make decisions and commit. But I'm too scared to become trapped and take responsibility for my own decisions. I think this would be easier if I knew myself better, but I don't think I know who I am besides my own random interests, which is weird I guess. How can I develop my own Fi? Or Ti? How do you guys deal with your dominant Ne? How do you commit to things? I'm 23 by the way. Shouldn't I have developed some Fi or Ti or something by now? I turned to mbti because I wanted to gain a better understanding of myself but holy shit this is hard. I could only recognize my dominant Ne. All this self analysis seems useless if I don't really know myself, I realized I'm not self aware at all. So anyways, as fellows Ne doms how did you guys developed your auxiliary functions? Any advice will be amazing! Thank you guys for everything you do here!

The first thing you need to do is recognize is you are an Enneagram 7 and all of this is ‘normal’ for them in lower health levels. To overcome this, you have to ‘grow up’ as a 7 and stop allowing fear of commitment or quick loss of focus from dominating your life. You have control over yourself, you are not utterly helpless to your whims (said the Fi user who has a moral tone of ‘you make your own choices and messes and you have to get out of them’ ;).

7s have to learn to be open to the scary idea of commitment to reap the dividends of hard work.

Read the 7 profile and see how allowing yourself to ‘run away’ from commitment (which includes not finishing or devoting yourself to any project) can hinder your life. Once you recognize WHAT you are doing, and WHY you are doing it, you can develop the power to STOP YOURSELF from doing it, or from allowing ‘excuses’ or fear to run you away from good things.

ENTP Mod. : Charity is right. Here is also where the judging functions come into play. With Fi, you can eventually weed out that which you aren't personally passionate about/ those goals which don't align with your personal values. With Ti, you can see a chain reaction of the patterns in your life, and determine the most effective path to help yourself using logic to streamline your processes, make it more elegant.

Slow the hell down. Force yourself to stop running toward the future and live right now. Repeat the mantra of ‘right now is all that matters today’ a 100 times an hour if you have to. Be present. Be invested. Bring yourself into ‘now.’

My co-mod is a 7w6 ENTP who suffers from a lot of the same issues; I will nudge her to offer her two cents to this post, in regards as to what she is currently doing about it. Basically, she had to talk herself into getting a permanent job rather than talking herself out of it. Once she got into it, she realized it didn’t suck as much as she feared. Her brain is her own worst enemy.

I had to talk myself into this job. I gave myself lots of reasons why I would love it. It might sound a little unrealistic going in with pre set expectations but at least you will not go in blind. Making a pros cons list is always a good idea. It helps to sift through your multiple ideas, and narrow down the ones which can really work. Test out the feasibility of your ideas, opportunities before hand. Talk to people, do your research. Just remember that things will never be as bad or boring as you think them to be. This is a cliche but something which helps me in the mornings when I know I have boring work to do is "Get up, dress up, show up. Never give up." Also it helps to live from day to day. Don't worry too far into the future, you never know what variables might upset your plans.

Work-wise, a 7 needs to travel, get the ‘high’ of meeting new people, and not to be involved in sheer detail-driven grunt work. They need challenges to work toward and obstacles to overcome. Pick a career that offers you all of that. If you do not, you will have a string of 6 months at ___ jobs that do not look good on your resume. Find a career in something that you feel passionate about, that offers some kind of mental stimulation.

ENTP 7 co-mod is an attorney who loves to find ways to ‘get around things’ in the law.

ENTP Mod. note: Always try to remember the root of your passion when you feel like defecting from one option to another. If you must leave, leverage what you have learned in one place and how you can dress that up to make your hopping about look good. That's what I did, and it worked for me. Some of the reasons I love my job are the constant intellectual stimulation, creative aspects of it, my love for criminology pays off, meeting interesting people. Sure there are sucky days when you have to deal with the bureaucratic demons. But that won't be every day. Unless your role requires you to do something like it. In which case I would suggest that you avoid picking up detail heavy, low Si or adherence related work which will make you feel miserable and frustrated. Try to pick something that plays to your strengths, improve your weaknesses. Compete with nobody but yourself. Every day you are better than you were, yesterday. Even with a little effort. It is important to not give up. It is so hard for 7s but we have the gift of rationalizing. So instead of using it as a mechanism to justify dropping things, use it to tell yourself why you should stick around. You as a 7 can make most things fun. So find little tricks and ways to make the work day fun. Whether it is achieving small, impactful targets or making games out of small, low stakes things. Also, having money and being able to live nicely is fun. Nobody is gonna pay you if they think that their money will be wasted on training you if your pattern is just leaving jobs. It took me a long time to develop this perspective but I am glad I did.

I (ENFP 6w5 sp/so) chose a career in magazine editing, because it gives me time to do what I actually love, which is write novels. I’m afraid I can’t give you advice from my own life that would work for you, because a 6w5 sp/so is far more focused and driven to finish their projects than a 7w6, which means I push through ‘the boring, tedious bits’ of projects regardless of how ‘excited’ I am. It’s not fun to edit a book 7 times, but I still do it. I force myself to show up to work, to sit there for 3 or 4 hours, and commit to X amount of words, pages, etc.

Do you think it’s “fun” for me always to keep this queue stocked, or to type up characters at the end of a long day because the queue is low? Or go back and update old profiles and move them from this blog onto wordpress? No. I hate it sometimes. It’s boring as hell. But I committed to it, I will see it through, even though looking into my “to update” folder makes me want to scream. I tackle huge projects one step at a time. I’m disciplined but I can procrastinate at work, rather than doing whatever needs doing.

Which really is the bottom line. You want to finish things? Just do them. Force yourself to show up and do the work, even if it’s “boring.” Most of life isn’t fun. Paying the bills isn’t fun. You do boring stuff to make a living, so you can have the money to do fun things. If you do not learn to do it, whether or not it is fun, you will wind up ‘stuck at home this month, because I have no money.’

That frustrates a 7 even more than being bored at work.

Accept that your fear of commitment is a fear-driven lie.

You are not going to get trapped by committing to something or someone. Head types massively over-think things and allow fear – in the 7’s case of “missing out” on better things – to dominate their life. Admit it’s fear. Admit that allowing fear to ruin your entire life is stupid. Then do something against the fear. Do the thing fear tells you not to: commit and work at it. Fight the urge every day to leave. Stick it out, and prove you ‘can’ to yourself.

Middle functions. You’re in college so you should be seeing either some Ti analyzing or Te “buckle down and set goals and get this schoolwork finished by the deadline” kicking in. Are you more inclined to self-doubt and beat yourself up like a young FiTe user after ‘failing’ to organize your time efficiently or to make excuses and blame external circumstances like a young TiFe user?

My Fi has always been strongly evident, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. Things that set off a NOPE response in me vs. the ‘rest of everything, which I don’t care about.’ The intense sensitivity as a child. The compassion for other people and especially for small animals. The understanding of emotional dynamics and how people ‘feel.’ The constant angst between caring too much about people’s feelings and being low Te blunt or rude when I’m having an off day. The ‘going away from everyone’ to deal with my feelings in private. I have always fiercely, Fi-ishly known what I like and do not like, and have no ability to ‘tolerate’ things that I do not like. Once, I didn’t like half the people seated at my table at a public event, so I shut down completely and did not say a word to anyone at the table for two hours. My Fe friend also hated them, but smiled and charmed them all. Lucky girl. She can fake her feelings. I can’t.

- ENFP Mod

#enneagram #enneagram 7 #enfp #entp #mbti #7w6 #entp mod

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