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nerdzzone · 1 year

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Eyes Open Wide

Summary: After spending their lives as ‘just friends’, Chris and Madeline decide they want to be more.

Part of the Back To You series

Note: I think this is probably one of my favourite chapters so please let me know what you think about it!

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March 2011

To say that Chris was confused would be an understatement.

He tried to focus on the rhythm of his footsteps and the sound of his feet hitting the sidewalk beneath them, but nothing could pull his attention away from the thoughts bouncing around his mind. He knew he didn’t have long - the show ended almost fifteen minutes ago and he’d promised to meet her in the lobby not long after - but the theatre had felt suffocating and he needed some fresh air if he had any hope of making sense of his thoughts.

He was in love with Madeline.

The realization had hit him as he watched her float across the stage earlier that evening. It was her first performance as one of the American Ballet Theatre’s principal dancers and he’d been bursting with pride from the moment he walked into the theatre before the show. When she came out on stage and he felt his heart swell at the sight of her, he’d thought maybe it was just that - adoration and admiration that she’d achieved what she’d been working so hard for - but when the feeling seemed to grow and the endearment he felt seemed almost overwhelming, he couldn’t shake the idea that it was more than he first thought.

At the start of that year he’d decided to take his personal life more seriously. He didn’t want any more messy flings or casual relationships, he wanted to find someone that he could share his life with and start a family with. That decision had made most of his romantic endeavours pretty unsatisyfing so - if he was being honest - his first thought was that he was just a little too sexually frustrated. Madeline was beautiful and the years of intensive dance training had left her with a very toned and tight body and even though there’d never been anything but friendship between them he was still a man and would’ve had to be blind to not notice how attractive she was. He assumed that the way she stretched and pliéd across the stage in her skin tight leotard was just too much for him in his pent up state, but by the time they reached the intermission and he had a quiet moment to catch his breath, he realized that what he was feeling was deeper than just an attraction.

He was in love.

It made perfect sense and as the idea began to take root in his mind it seemed so obvious, but he couldn’t figure out why something that had been so clearly in front of him for most of his life could be so blindsiding.

They’d always had a connection. They seemed to understand each other in a way that no one else did and he found that time with her always kept him centered. He favoured her opinion above almost anyone else’s and he knew that he’d always been a little too protective of her as the thought of anyone causing her any kind of pain got under his skin in a way that few other things could. He’d always told himself that it was just brotherly affection, but now that the thought of it being more had slipped by whatever defense mechanism his brain had created to protect the status quo of their relationship, it was undeniable.

There was nothing brotherly about the way he wanted her or the visions that were playing through his mind like a torturous slideshow. Visions of her curled up on the couch pressed against his side. Or of his arm resting around her waist, letting everyone know that she was his. Or of her stretched out in his bed, tangled up in his sheets. His imagination was running wild and he was grateful for a distraction when he reached the florist that he’d spotted on his way to the theatre earlier that day.

The feel of the door’s cool glass window under his hand as he pushed it open helped snap him out of his thoughts as he focused on the current task he faced. Putting his feelings aside, she’d nailed her performance. He knew that she could be her own harshest critic and he knew that she’d put a lot of pressure on herself as it had been her first performance in such a leading role, but even though he’d had the distraction of wrestling with his feelings, Chris knew without a doubt that she’d performed flawlessly. Flowers seemed a little overdone and far less than she deserved, but Chris made sure to pick out the best bunch of roses he could find before a quick glance at his watch had him practically running back to the theatre.

Hey! Where are you? I hope you didn’t leave without saying goodbye!

The text came in from Madeline just as he was opening the door to the lobby, but he heard her calling out for him before he had the time to answer. He turned towards her voice and felt his heartbeat stutter as he caught sight of her standing with her parents, her tights and leotard changed for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt despite the stage make-up that still graced her features.

“I guess you guys beat me to the flowers,” Chris observed as he walked over to their group, gesturing at the bouquet already in her arms. “But you were so good, I had to get you something.”

Any progress he’d made with gathering his thoughts was shattered as soon as she’d flashed him a smile as the pure joy on her face almost knocked the breath right out of him. He stood stunned as she handed the flowers that she was already holding over to her mother and threw herself into his arms. The feel of her wrapping herself around his waist and the familiar smell of her favourite hairspray pulled him back into the moment as she spoke.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest, lingering in his embrace for a moment longer than he would have expected, but not nearly as long as he would have liked before she stepped away and took the gift from his hand. “Did you like the show?”

“I loved it! You were amazing!”

“You really thought so? I was so nervous, I was worried the audience would be able to see how bad my legs were shaking.”

“Nah, you looked like a total pro.”

He could see her practically melt with relief at his assurance, but as she threw a barrage of other questions at him about what he thought of various moments of the show, Chris came to another realization.

It wasn’t the time to share his feelings.

When he’d first accepted how he felt, he’d had a desperate urgency to tell her. He needed to know if she felt the same and the thought of how much time they’d wasted if she did filled him with panic. He didn’t want to waste another minute, but as he stood in front of her and soaked up her bubbling excitement, he knew it wasn’t the right time for the conversation he wanted to have.

That night was about her and her accomplishments and he didn’t want to steal even a spec of her well-earned spotlight.

There was also the chance that his confession wouldn’t be very well received and he didn’t want anything to put a damper on the triumph she was feeling or the gleeful smile on her face. So, he shelved his racing thoughts for the time being and answered all her questions - doing his best to convey just how incredible her performance had been - until a happy sigh fell from her lips.

“I’m really proud of myself…”

The words were soft - almost like she was afraid to admit it - and Chris rushed to agree.

“You should be,” he insisted as her parents echoed his sentiment. “You deserve this and we’re all really proud of you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

Her eyes grew glassy as she spoke and as she looked up at him from under her dark, painted lashes the words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of his tongue as the feeling welled up inside him the same way that it had when he was watching her on stage. He had to practically bite his lip to stop the confession from slipping out and he was grateful when her dad’s voice pulled Madeline’s gaze away.

“What are your plans tonight, Chris?” Greg chimed in. “We’re going to get some food if you’d like to join us?”

It was a tempting offer, but while Chris was eager to spend as much time with Madeline as possible, he worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his newfound feelings under wraps if he lingered too much longer.

“I wish I could, but I’ve gotta leave early in the morning so I should probably have an early night.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but even though he did have a flight to catch he knew that sleep wouldn't be coming easily with all the thoughts bouncing around in his head. However, he turned his attention back to Madeline as he thought about when he would next be able to see her. “We start filming The Avengers in about a month. If I’m back in town in a few weeks, could we hang out before then?”

The question caught Madeline off guard as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of course,” she assured him, her tone making the words sound more like she’d intended to say ‘duh’ than the polite words she’d chosen. “I’ll probably have rehearsals or training, but I’ll be here.”

“Great,” Chris smiled, pulling her into another hug. “Congratulations, Maddie. I’ll see you soon.”

He felt Madeline’s arm that wasn’t holding her flowers slide back around his waist and squeeze him tight. It took more strength than he was proud to admit, but he eventually managed to pull himself away from her and say goodnight to their little group before dragging himself towards the door, feeling like he was leaving his heart right there in Madeline’s hands.

April 2011

Something was wrong with Chris.

Madeline didn’t know what it was, but there was something strange about how he was behaving.

Even with their busy schedules, they usually checked in every couple days. It wasn’t always a full conversation, but they would regularly exchange texts even if it was just mundane things or silly comments about their day. However, since Chris had left New York Madeline had barely heard from him. He always answered her messages eventually, but sometimes it took him several days and he hardly ever initiated a conversation.

She knew it was weak evidence which was why she hadn’t brought her concerns to anyone else, but she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was bothering him - something that he didn’t want to talk about - and his behaviour when he arrived at her apartment once he returned to New York did nothing to ease her worries.

“Hi,” she smiled, opening the door. “You’re early.”

“Yeah,” he nodded as he dropped his bag by the door and strode into the living room. “I was gonna check in to my hotel, but I wanted to come here first.”

The nervous energy radiating off of him had Madeline on high alert and the way he began pacing around her living room only added to her tension.

“Is everything okay?”

Her question caught Chris’ attention, but didn’t stop his movement and she snuck past him to sit on the edge of her couch.

“Yeah, I think so,” he nodded when he finally paused and shoved his hands in his pockets as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible. “Well, I hope so. I mean, everything’s fine right now, but I hope it stays that way.”

His anxiety was obvious and had Madeline’s stomach in knots as she hoped that she would be able to offer him some kind of comfort once he finally got whatever was clearly bothering him off his chest.

“You’re making me a little nervous, Chris,” she informed him gently, not wanting her concern to add to his stress levels. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

His only acknowledgement of her question was a firm nod before he returned to his task of wearing a hole in her floor with his pacing. Knowing that it was often better to give him the space to gather his thoughts than to hound him for answers, Madeline simply watched patiently for a few moments until he paused again and lifted his eyes to meet hers for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

His blunt and seemingly out of nowhere question left Madeline even more baffled than before as she struggled to make sense of all his odd behaviour.

“Like, romantically?”

“Yeah, like a boyfriend or whatever.”

“No,” Madeline shook her head. “I’ve been spending almost all my time training since the fall when I heard that the principal dancer spot was up for grabs and then when I got it, I wanted to make sure I really proved myself. I haven’t really had time for dating.”

It was more of an in depth explanation than she thought Chris might have expected, but she was too busy trying to puzzle out what could possibly be going on with him to worry about being concise.

“Okay, great. Well, that’s good.”

His shoulders dropped in relief, but his words seemed to be said more to himself than to Madeline and she was growing desperate for some answers.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Her question had Chris stopping in his tracks as he scoffed out a laugh.

“A lot, it has everything to with this conversation we’re about to have,” Chris informed her, taking in a deep breath before finally blurting out what was really on his mind. “Because I’m in love with you.”

His words hung in the air between them as Madeline sat in stunned silence.

She’d wanted to hear those words for so long. She’d spent so many years wishing for it to happen and spent countless hours daydreaming about it, but now it was happening she was so shocked that all she could do was stare at him with her jaw hanging open. There was a flicker of excitement somewhere deep in her stomach, but she’d managed to get herself so convinced that it was an impossible reality that the doubts immediately crept in and her blood ran cold.

“Is this a prank?”

The anxious look of anticipation on Chris’ face shifted into one of shock.

“What?”

“Did Scott put you up to this?” Madeline questioned. “Because it’s not funny, Chris.”

As the potential humiliation hung above her, Madeline felt tears well up in her eyes. Chris must have noticed them too as he suddenly moved from where he’d seemed to be frozen in place and rushed to sit beside her.

“No, I promise that’s not what’s going on,” he assured her. “I haven’t told anyone about this, I didn’t wanna tell anyone until I know if you’re gonna turn me down or not.”

Suddenly unable to meet his eye, Madeline looked down at her lap as she nodded her head, needing a moment to process what he’d just told her.

It felt unbelievable. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was dreaming. Or if maybe she’d slipped on her way to the door to let him in and she was currently hallucinating due to a head injury. Because both of those theories seemed more realistic than the thought of him actually confessing his love for her.

However, as he slid his hand over to rest it on top of hers, the warmth of his touch had her unable to deny it was real. She hesitated - still uneasy and worried that she’d misunderstood - but as she thought back to the look of tortured apprehension on his face as he announced his love, she knew there was merit to what he was saying.

As she took a moment to steady herself, she flipped her hand to press her palm against his and relished the strange yet comforting feeling of their interlaced fingers before lifting her gaze to meet his.

“I’d never turn you down,” she admitted, the shake in her voice giving away her nerves. “Because I feel the same way.”

His eyes widened and she imagined that the expression of shock on his face probably mirrored her initial reaction as it looked as if he hadn’t expected her to reciprocate her feelings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Madeline nodded, the corners of her lips lifting into a smile as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. A really, really long time.”

The sound that fell from Chris’ lips after hearing those words could only be described as a giggle and he hung his head for a moment before collapsing back against the cushions behind him. The anxiety he’d felt when he entered her apartment had clearly shifted into relief and his hand slipped out of Madeline’s grasp as he lifted it to rub his face before flashing her a grin.

“Oh, man,” he chuckled. “I really thought you were gonna laugh me right out of here.”

Madeline shook her head, almost offended by that assumption.

“No way. Even if I didn’t feel the same way, I would never have laughed at you or let it come between us.”

“Yeah?” Chris smirked. “So why did you never mention how you felt?”

The question earned a laugh and a shrug of Madeline’s shoulders as she knew the point he was trying to make.

“Because I was worried you would laugh at me and it would ruin our friendship,” she admitted. “But you never gave me even a hint of a sign!”

“Neither did you,” Chris pointed out. “But I really only had this epiphany a few weeks ago on your opening night. If you’ve felt like this for a while, I dunno how you’ve handled it because I felt like I was gonna explode tryin’ to keep it in.”

“Yeah, I noticed from the way you just barged into my apartment like you were about to tell me you murdered somebody or something,” Madeline teased, but as Chris chuckled and the sound caused a familiar fluttering in her heart, it also had the knots tightening back up in her stomach. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Well,” Chris shrugged. “I’d really like to take you on a date.”

The ear to ear grin that his suggestion put on her face had Madeline’s cheeks starting to ache in the best possible way and she wondered if she should pinch herself to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming.

“I’d really like that too.”

“Tonight? Do you have any rehearsals?”

“No, I don’t. I’m free tonight.”

“Perfect,” Chris nodded, as he quickly pulled himself off of the couch until he was standing in front of her. “I’ve gotta go check in and all that, but I’ll pick you up around six?”

Madeline nodded as Chris held out a hand to help her to her feet before pulling her in his arms. The energy between them was still a little uncertain as both of them tried to get their minds around the revelation that they’d had, but they took a moment to enjoy the calm they felt as they stood wrapped up in each other’s embrace. However, much sooner than Madeline would have liked, Chris dragged himself away and with the same chaotic, hurricane inspired energy that he’d entered her apartment with, he shouted a goodbye and disappeared as fast as he’d arrived.

Madeline spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze.

She’d felt almost giddy when Chris had left, but the more time that passed the more her doubts began to take over again. She couldn’t shake the thought that somehow she might have misunderstood him. That she would open the door to greet him later just to find out that she’d gotten it wrong and he hadn’t meant what he’d said. That still made more sense to her than the fact that after the years of pining away for him, she was finally getting what she’d always wanted.

It didn’t help that she was going through the turmoil alone.

She’d debated calling Scott for some kind of explanation or guidance, but if Chris was telling the truth about keeping his feelings to himself then she didn’t want to be the one to break the news. She also debated calling her mother, but she knew that there were no secrets between her and Chris’ mom and she didn’t want the news to spread before they’d had more time to figure out what was going on. So, she persevered with nothing but her own thoughts and tried not to let her anxiety ruin the moment that she’d been waiting for since she was old enough to realize the depth of her feelings for Chris.

By the time he buzzed her apartment and she was headed downstairs to meet him, she was shaking with nerves. However, the comforting familiarity of the smile on his face as she walked out of her apartment building’s lobby helped put her at ease.

“Hi,” he greeted her, pushing away from the wall he’d been leaning on as soon as he saw her. “Wow, you look amazing.”

His words filled her with relief as she’d spent more time than she wanted to admit agonizing over her outfit. She’d been tempted to message him to find out more about their plans, but her fear that he’d come to his senses and cancel completely stopped her from picking up the phone. She’d eventually settled on a short white dress paired with sneakers to keep it casual and a light coat to keep her warm in the evening spring air.

“Thanks,” she matched his smile. “I wasn’t sure where we’d be going so I was worried that I’d be overdressed.”

“No, definitely not. You look great.”

There was an air of awkwardness between them that Madeline wasn’t used to with Chris, but the edge of nervousness in his voice had her relieved that she wasn’t the only one thrown off by their new dynamic. Desperately trying to remember how she used to act around him, she slid her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she fidgeted under his gaze.

“So, where are we going?”

Her question seemed to snap Chris into action as his eyes left her outfit and lifted to meet hers.

“How does Italian sound?” He asked. “I made us a reservation, but if you’re in the mood for something else then I can think of something else.”

“Italian sounds perfect,” Madeline assured him. “Can we walk or should we get a cab?”

“We can walk,” Chris shrugged. “Shouldn’t take long, if you don’t mind.”

It was strange how - despite knowing each other their entire lives - their earlier conversation had suddenly left them with the social skills of two people meeting for the first time.

Madeline was used to Chris showing up at her apartment and demanding that she accompany him to whatever restaurant he’d been missing while he was out of town. He always made her walk regardless of how many hours she’d spent dancing that day or how sore her muscles were and she usually complained the entire time - whether it was three blocks or ten - and made fun of him for being too cheap for a cab despite his new life as a Hollywood superstar.

Now, they seemed to be walking on eggshells around each other. Madeline was determined to break the ice, but she cringed at the first question that came out of her mouth as they made their way down the sidewalk.

“It’s really warm today, isn’t it?”

They were far beyond talking about the weather, but Madeline couldn’t think of anything else to say that wasn’t a long rambled list of questions about how or why he’d suddenly decided he was in love with her.

“Is it?” Chris smiled. “After being in L.A. for the last few weeks, it feels like it’s freezing here.”

“I forgot that you’re a California boy now,” Madeline teased. “But compared to a couple of weeks ago, it’s really warm here now.”

“That’s the nice thing about coming back to the East coast,” Chris mused. “I prefer somewhere with actual seasons.”

“Me too. I couldn’t live in L.A. with its endless summer.” Madeline’s observation didn’t draw much of a response from Chris and her stomach started churning as a silence fell between them. They made it another block before Madeline couldn’t take the awkwardness any longer and blurted out another question. “Chris, this is weird, isn’t it?”

Biting her lip, she looked up at him and braced for him to breathe a sigh of relief, agree with her and take back everything he’d said, but his response was far different than she anticipated. His eyes widening in surprise, he quickly shook his head.

“No, no, it’s not!” His insistence felt forced and untrue and a sigh fell from his lips. “Okay, it’s a little weird, I’m sorry. I just really didn’t expect today to go the way that it did, I didn’t think this far ahead.”

Madeline knew that Chris wasn’t always as confident and self-assured as the persona that he tried to present to the world, but his shyness in that moment tugged at her heart. They were in it together now - both of them had said things that couldn’t easily be taken back - and they had to muddle through the mess they’d created as a team. Their walking had slowed when she’d put forth the question, but feeling a sudden rush of courage, she slipped her hand into his.

“I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen today so I’m definitely a little shocked by it all,” she admitted as they settled back into their pace. “But I think we just need to relax. We’re just hanging out, right?”

The fact that their hands were now clasped as Madeline leaned against his arm made it clear that it was a little more than that, but she felt Chris’ shoulders drop as his tension eased and he squeezed her hand as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “Sorry, I’m just tryin’ to quiet all the noise in my brain.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Madeline assured him. “Trust me, I get it. I spent most of the afternoon trying to convince myself that I hadn’t hallucinated our entire conversation.”

She heard a soft chuckle slip from Chris’ lips and the sound had her unable to hold back a smile.

“I don’t blame you for that one, it was a little more chaotic than I’d planned on it being.”

“Oh, really? Did you have some big romantic plan?”

“Nah, I didn’t really have any plan at all,” he admitted. “Every time I tried to think about what I would say I got so nervous that I didn't think I’d be able to do it at all, but I thought even if I was just winging it I would have been able to come up with something better than what I did.”

“To be honest, I don’t think it would have mattered how you told me. I would have been shocked either way,” Madeline admitted, hoping that a reminder of her own confession would put him at ease. “I really have felt the same way about you for almost as long as I can remember, but I never thought you’d think of me that way.”

Chris led her around a corner and onto another street as he glanced down at her, his eyes skimming over her face as if he was searching for any sign of a lie.

“I can’t wrap my head around that,” Chris mused. “It never crossed my mind that you might already feel the same, I thought I’d have to convince you to give me a chance.”

“I guess I got a little too good at hiding how I feel, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“Well, that’s much more respectable than my strategy,” Chris commended her. “Bursting into your apartment on the edge of a panic attack and practically screaming it at you could have definitely made things uncomfortable.”

“I dunno, I’m pretty used to your dramatics by now,” Madeline teased. “And one of us had to take the plunge so I’m glad that you told me despite the slightly insane delivery.”

There was a smile on her face as she spoke, but as Chris chuckled and led her around another corner with the assurance that they were almost there, her smile faltered slightly.

“Chris, I only know one Italian restaurant on this street and it’s way out of my price range.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chris shrugged. “I asked you out, it’s on me.”

“It does matter though,” she insisted. “Captain America isn’t out yet, it might be a total flop and I don’t want you to be in debt because you took me out to dinner.”

She tried to keep her tone light and teasing, but she couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt in her stomach. Her promotion had come with a decent pay rise, but being a ballerina hadn’t always been a particularly lucrative career and living in New York had always been expensive. Restaurants like the one they were walking towards were not somewhere she would usually even consider dining and she didn’t want Chris to waste his money just to impress her.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” His words were laced with sarcasm as he bumped his hip against hers. “But even if Captain America flops, I can afford one dinner here - especially if it means making a good impression on you.”

He shot her a wink that had her cheeks heating up and silenced her protests as he opened the door to the restaurant. She watched as he discreetly gave his name and followed him as he was led to a table near the back, choosing to sit with his back to the door to hide his identity if anyone happened to notice them. From her seat, Madeline had a good view of the place and - food aside - she could see why it was as expensive as it was. With the exquisite decor and impeccably dressed waiters, she knew it wasn’t the type of place that they usually went to and while it was unnecessary, she was touched that Chris was putting in so much effort to make it special.

Chris ordered a bottle of red wine for them to share and Madeline glanced over the menu, trying her best to ignore the prices. She didn’t want any further protests about the cost to be taken as doubt of his financial security and when the waiter returned with their wine and to take their orders, she picked a pasta dish in the middle of the price range to avoid the argument that she knew would ensue if she went for the cheaper option of a salad.

When they were finally alone once again, Chris raised his glass.

“Cheers,” he smiled, waiting for Madeline to copy his action with a smile of her own. “To new beginnings.”

Clinking their glasses together as they toasted before taking a sip, Madeline let the rich, full-bodied wine float on her tongue for a moment before letting his words segue her into the question that had been on her mind all afternoon.

“Speaking of new beginnings, we’ve established that I’ve been pining away for you for a long time,” she started. “But you said you had an epiphany just a few weeks ago so I guess I’m just wondering what sparked that?”

“I don’t really know,” Chris admitted. “It just hit me when I was watching you dance. I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I was too stupid to see it.”

“You’re not stupid, it’s a complicated situation.”

“Yeah, but you’ve always been super important to me,” Chris continued. “I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting to figure it all out and things were different between us even when we were kids. I was always making sure that Ma invited you to everything we did because I just felt this need to be around you and it hasn’t ever gone away. I think about you all the time and you’re always at the top of my list of people I want to see. I can’t believe it took me so long to figure out why.”

He looked a little sheepish as he finished talking, but his words had Madeline feeling so full of love that she thought her heart might burst.

“I’ve always known we had something special,” Madeline agreed, reaching out to rest her hand on his where it rested on the table. “I think that’s why I was too scared to tell you how I felt in case it ruined our friendship. I was so worried that you’d be creeped out and I’d lose you forever and being your friend seemed better than nothing.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he assured her. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I think we can be mature enough to stay friends.”

“I hope so,” Madeline smiled. “Because you’re, like, my safety blanket. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Chris nodded, but as he flipped his hand to intertwine their fingers again as they had earlier that day, Madeline noticed a worried look had crossed his face.

“I have to leave soon though,” he reminded her. “I’d love to stay longer, but I’m leaving at the end of the week to start filming.”

“I know, but that’s okay,” Madeline shrugged. “I’ll miss you like I always do, but maybe I can come and visit you? May and June are a little busy for me, but I could probably come for a weekend and after our June performances wrap up then I’ll be free for at least six weeks.”

She’d already thought about it as she was getting ready for their date, but a blush rose on her cheeks as she realized how eager sounded. Chris, however, didn’t seem to notice as her words softened the anxious tension in his jaw.

“Great, that sounds perfect. I’ll check my filming schedule and we can make some plans, I might be able to sneak back here for a few days too.”

It was comforting to know that Chris was as desperate to stay connected as she was, but the way his brow stayed furrowed as if he was deep in thought told Madeline there was more he wanted to say. She rubbed her thumb against his skin and waited to see if he would come clean, but after a few more moments of silence she tentatively prompted him to open up.

“You look worried.”

He seemed a little caught off guard by her observation, but after another moment of thought he let out a sigh.

“I guess I am,” he admitted. “You know how anxious I was about taking on the role of Captain America and a lot of that was because of some of the less positive ways such a big role could change my life. If we give this a shot then you’ll be dragged into it all too.”

Madeline felt a pang of relief that his concern wasn’t due to any second thoughts and shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t care about that. I’ve already kinda been dragged into it with the fans you have now. They’re always curious about who I am or fishing for information because they assume we have some kind of history together. I can handle it.”

“But it could get a lot worse so I get it if you want to take some time to think it over.”

“I don’t,” Madeline insisted, her voice firm and leaving no room for him to argue. “I don’t need any time to think this over, I’ve been thinking it over for years. If you want this then so do I.”

“I do want it,” Chris assured her, squeezing her hand. “But if it gets too much at any point, you’ve gotta tell me.”

Madeline nodded and promised she would, but she was relieved to see their food arriving at the table and used the interruption to transition the conversation to things that made Chris look less stressed.

They talked about how excited he was to get back to work, she gushed about how thrilled she was to complete her first set of performances as a principal dancer, they chatted about their families and what everyone was up to and by the time they were done eating the awkward tension that had hung around them at the start of the date had vanished completely. Time flew by as they were wrapped up in each other as it always did when they were together and it wasn’t until they were walking with their arms linked back to Madeline’s apartment when they broached the subject of what would happen next.

“Thank you for dinner,” Madeline murmured, leaning against him for warmth in the cool evening air. “I appreciate you taking me somewhere so nice, but I hope you know me well enough to know that I don’t need fancy restaurants to impress me.”

“I know,” Chris nodded. “I just wanted to do something kinda special to mark the moment.”

“That’s really sweet,” Madeline smiled, feeling a twinge of nervousness as she forced the next words out of her mouth. “I found a really cute place the other day that’s a little more our style so maybe I can plan our next date?”

“Sure, how about tomorrow?"

His question had the breath she’d been holding - braced for the rejection that she couldn’t shake away her fear of - puffing from her lips with a laugh.

“Tomorrow?” She giggled. “Aren’t you supposed to play it cool and wait at least three days to text me again?”

“I think we’re a little past that,” Chris chuckled. “And we’ve gotta make up for lost time so I’m free tomorrow if you are.”

His eagerness was encouraging and considering he had to leave at the end of the week, Madeline was happy to make the most of the time they had.

“I have training tomorrow night,” she informed him. “But I’m free in the afternoon if you’re okay with a lunch date.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed with no hesitation. “I have no plans for most of the time I’m here so I’ll take as much time with you as you’re willing to give me.”

The sincerity in his voice had Madeline melting with relief as she felt the same way. Their new situation still felt so precarious - as if it could all be taken away any minute as fast as it had happened - and she felt the urge to stay close to him even more than she usually did.

“Perfect,” Madeline smiled as they reached her apartment building and their goodbye loomed over them. “The place is close to the dance studio, but I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

She slipped her arm away from his to reach into her purse for her keys and couldn’t help but wonder how the night would end. She was hoping desperately for a goodnight kiss, but as she lingered by the door waiting for him to make a move, she quickly began to lose hope.

“Well, thanks again,” she smiled, feeling the earlier awkwardness creeping back in. “I had a really nice time.”

Chris flashed her a smile of his own and she felt her heartbeat pick up speed as he moved closer towards her. She was sure that it was the moment she’d been waiting for, but disappointment washed over her like an icy cold wave as he murmured a soft ‘me too’ and pulled her into his arms for a hug.

By the time Madeline got to the dance studio the following evening, she was feeling disheartened.

She’d had another wonderful date with Chris and everything seemed to be going well, but he’d left her at the door of the studio with nothing but a hug once again. Other than the new addition of handholding, the shift in their relationship really wasn’t that noticeable and Madeline couldn't help but wonder why - if he was in love with her - he wouldn’t be as desperate for more as she was.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she went through the motions of changing from her date clothes into something more appropriate for the hours of dance ahead of her and she was relieved that she’d be able to bury herself into something that always helped clear her mind. Nothing helped her escape her problems like going through the familiar motions of ballet until her muscles were burning with exhaustion.

However, the deep sigh that fell from her lips as she pushed open the door to the studio she’d be training in that night hindered her attempts to run away from her troubles as it drew the attention of her friend.

“Hey,” Heidi called over from where she was stretching across the room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Madeline nodded, walking over to join her in front of the mirror. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

It was a simple question, but it left Madeline feeling very conflicted. She felt like she was in desperate need of advice and keeping Chris’ confession to herself for the last twenty-fours had been a struggle, but she also didn’t want to share the news if it was all about to crumble out from underneath her. She debated her options for a brief moment before the clear concern on Heidi’s face won her over and she began to spill her tale of woe.

“I’m okay,” she assured her. “But I went on a date today, and last night.”

Heidi bit back a smile as Madeline’s vague explanation had her raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, that totally explains why you look like someone just ruined your life.” Her tone was sarcastic, but Madeline wasn’t entirely sure she was wrong. “Who was your date with?”

“My friend Chris.”

There was a moment of silence as Heidi gave Madeline a very suspicious look before posing another question.

“Your friend Chris? The one that most people know as the actor Chris Evans?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Oh my god, Maddie! Good for you, he’s seriously hot!” The enthusiasm in her response had a reluctant smile sliding onto Madeline’s face despite the turmoil she was feeling. “But I still don’t understand why that news has you looking so sad…”

“It’s gonna sound so stupid when I say it out loud,” Madeline warned her. “You’ll think I'm an idiot.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Madeline bit her lip as she leaned into the stretch she was doing, hoping to hide the rising blush in her cheeks.

“Because he hasn’t kissed me yet.” She blurted out her explanation, but quickly followed it up with a rundown of how their dates had come to be to give Heidi a little more context before she got to the root of what was bothering her. “It just feels like nothing has really changed. Our dates were nice, but nothing we didn’t do as friends other than a little extra hand holding. It seems weird.”

Taking a moment to take it all in, Heidi nodded understandingly until she lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“Maybe he just wants to take it slow? You know, maybe he doesn’t want to make any big moves and really cross that line until he’s really sure that he’s figured out his feelings.”

“I think that’s what I’m worried about,” Madeline admitted. “He sounded so sure of himself when he told me how he was feeling, but he did say he only realized a few weeks ago so now I feel like he’s changed his mind after spending time with me.”

“I bet that’s not the problem,” Heidi insisted. “It’s not like he’s never spent time with you before, he already knows you pretty well.”

“Exactly, what else would he need to figure out?”

“I don’t know, but it’s a big step to cross that line and really become more than just friends. He could be following your lead and waiting for you to make a move.”

As the idea had Madeline’s stomach twisting in knots, her brow furrowed with displeasure.

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, he already put himself out there by sharing his feelings in the first place, right? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the next move to show that you’re really on the same page.”

“But I’ve already told him that we’re on the same page and that I’ve been in love with him for years.”

“Yeah, but showing is different to telling,” Heidi pointed out. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Tomorrow,” Madeline sighed. “And probably on Friday too, but he leaves Friday night to start working on his next movie.”

“Okay, so when you see him tomorrow why don’t you kiss him and see what happens?”

Again, just the thought of being so bold had Madeline almost overwhelmed by anxiety.

“Because, what if I try and he just pushes me away.”

“I have a pretty good feeling that he won’t, but if he does then at least you have your answer,” Heidi shrugged. “Then he’ll leave to go back to work and by the time you see him again the dust will have settled and you can pretend it all never happened.”

Madeline swallowed hard as she blinked back the tears that were suddenly swimming in her eyes. It felt like an all too real possibility and she wasn’t sure it was something she could handle.

“That would break my heart,” she admitted. “I love him so much.”

“I know, sweetheart, and if it happens I’ll be here for you,” Heidi assured her, pulling her into a hug. “But that’s, like, the worst case scenario. I’m almost a thousand percent sure that he’ll be all over you once you give him the green light.”

Her confidence in that statement pulled a giggled from Madeline as she felt some of her tension ease. It did seem a little unlikely that Chris would have changed his mind so quickly after he seemed so sincere when he told her how he felt. Their dates had gone well - there were no major hiccups or issues that should have made him backtrack - and the fact that Heidi didn’t seem to think she should give up and run away had her feeling slightly less hopeless than she had when she’d arrived in the studio.

Once her feeling of dread had been dampened and the other dancers arrived, Madeline let herself get lost in their training. She pushed herself until there was no room in her mind to think about anything other than the task at hand and the time away from her thoughts left her with much more clarity. Heidi was right. She needed to have a little faith in Chris’ feelings, but making a move and being rejected was better than letting him leave town with everything still feeling so uncertain.

Heading back out the door of the dance studio, she felt far more centered than she had when she’d arrived and she had a fierce determination to end her date with Chris the next day with more than just a hug.

Staring at the woman across the table from him, Chris felt like a complete idiot.

He couldn’t believe how blind he’d been for so many years or how it was possible that he hadn’t realized what had been right in front of him for his entire life. Every smile, every giggle, every happy sigh that fell from her lips had his heart fluttering in his chest and it left him stunned that he hadn’t let himself fully appreciate all the warmth and joy she brought to his life. She’d been with him through the tough times when he struggled in auditions and felt like his career was going nowhere, she’d been there for his parents’ divorce when his whole idea of his perfect family was shattered, she’d always been a source of calm when his anxiety reared its ugly head. She was the person he went to when he needed to feel safe. She understood him better than almost anyone outside of his family. He really couldn’t believe that it had taken him so long to understand the depth of his feelings for her.

He was also still scratching his head about how he got lucky enough for her to feel the same way. He thought there were two options when he got to her apartment earlier that week - she would either completely reject him and want nothing to do with his newly discovered feelings or be neutral and willing to be convinced - but he didn’t even entertain the idea that his admission would be met by Madeline’s own confession of love. She was funny, kind, intelligent, feisty and absolutely gorgeous. She was passionate about her goals and dedicated enough to be achieving some of her biggest dreams before she was even thirty. He had no idea what he’d done to be worthy of her love, but he was grateful to have it and willing to do anything to show her that she wasn’t making a mistake by giving him a shot.

Because he was completely head over heels for her.

Everything about her seemed to stoke the new fire that was burning inside him and her flirtatious mood was driving him wild. Maybe it was the cocktails she was sipping on or just the comfort they’d slipped into after their first couple of dates, but she couldn’t seem to keep her hands to herself. They’d always had a very physical relationship - all their time spent together as kids had shattered some of the spatial boundaries that many adult friendships had - but there was something different about it after what they’d both shared and the way she kept rubbing her foot against his leg under the table was proving to be very distracting.

However, her tactile mood did put him at ease. He’d been dying to kiss her since the moment he’d stormed into her apartment, but he was worried about pushing her too far too fast. He knew it was quite a bomb that he’d dropped by announcing his feelings so out of the blue and he didn’t want to overwhelm her. The lingering fear of rejection was also a contributing factor because it had taken more courage than he thought he had to confess how he felt and if Madeline had just been swept up in the moment, but turned him down when he really tried to make a move then he wasn’t sure he could handle the pain that would cause him.

He knew he needed to seal the deal before he left - especially since he didn’t know exactly when he would see her again - and the affection she was showing him was giving him the confidence he needed to finally cross that line.

It wasn’t until they were walking back towards Madeline’s apartment that Chris felt the nerves begin to creep back in. He’d been so close to breaking through that last line between friendship and more when he’d dropped her off at the dance studio the day before, but he’d chickened out at the last minute. He was determined not to make the same mistake again, but he could feel the anxious thoughts creeping into his mind.

“So,” Madeline interrupted his thoughts as they turned onto her block, arms linked once again. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Late afternoon, I think.” Chris sighed as the thought of leaving her now had him feeling quite morose. “But we could get breakfast if you’re not dancing?”

“No, I’ll be dancing in the afternoon so that’s perfect.”

The way she squeezed his arm a little tighter as she spoke had him looking down at her to see her gazing right back up at him.

“What?” He asked, a soft smile sliding onto his face.

“I don’t want you to go…” Her words were soft and her eyes widened as they slipped out of her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to say them out loud. “I mean, I’m so happy for you and excited that you get to work on such a big project, but I wish you’d be closer.”

“Me too,” Chris agreed. “But we’ll make it work.”

“But they film lots of movies in New York, I don’t understand why they can’t just film it all here instead.”

The pout that slid onto her face earned a chuckle from Chris as they stopped outside her building.

“I dunno either, but I don’t think I have quite enough sway yet to get them to change it for me.”

“Can’t have the Avengers without Captain America,” Madeline pointed out. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

She slipped away from him to dig through her purse for her keys and Chris immediately missed the warmth of her body against his. As their goodbye drew closer, he knew what he needed to do, but the doubts in his head were holding him back. He felt frozen where he stood with his hands in his pockets until he noticed her watching him - keys in her hand - with an expectant look on her face.

Moving closer, he slipped his arms around her as he had at the end of their previous dates and he felt her tense slightly before she lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him close. She felt so good, she smelt good, everything about her just made him want her more and he leaned back enough to glance down at her. It seemed the expectant look on her face had shifted into disappointment and that had Chris unsure of his next move. The hug was lingering, dragging on longer than seemed reasonable and he knew he had to act quickly, but in his panic his insecurities took hold and he felt his earlier bravery slipping away.

He dipped his head, aiming to press a kiss against her cheek, but a shift of her head had him catching the corner of her lips instead. Even that was enough to have his heart racing, but as he tried to pull away, he felt Madeline’s hand on the back of his neck holding him in place.

“Please…”

It was hardly more than a whimper, but Chris knew what she was asking for and the simple word filled him with courage. He needed no further prompting to lean back in and press his lips against hers and her immediate response pushed any doubt from his mind.

Feeling a spark seemed like such a cliche, but it was really the only way Chris could think to describe the moment. The rush of love and desire he felt had his grip tightening on her waist as her hand slid up to his hair as if both of them were desperate to be as close to each other as physically possible. He felt consumed by her like he would crumble if she ever pulled herself out of his arms and when she broke the kiss to catch a much needed breath the sight of her slightly swollen lips had him unable to resist diving back in for more.

Neither of them were sure how much time had passed as they stood on the doorstep of her building completely lost in each other. The need to stay connected had them both too wound up to even think of walking away, but as Chris struggled to find the willpower to force out a ‘goodnight’, Madeline had another suggestion.

“Do you wanna stay here?” She asked as she fought to catch her breath. “If we’re meeting up in the morning anyway you may as well save yourself a cab ride.”

Her reasoning had a smirk sliding onto Chris’ face, but he was too relieved by the offer to make fun of her ulterior motives.

“I like the way you think. I’d love to stay.”

Madeline flashed him a grin before stealing another quick kiss and slipping out of his arms. She found her keys on the ground where they’d slipped from her hands in their frenzy and hurried to unlock the door, leading him through the hallways until they reached her apartment where they spent the rest of the night exploring all the things they’d missed out on in the years they’d wasted pretending to be just friends.

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @flowery-mess @flowerjewels@hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @denisemarieangelina @elrw24 @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @trottae17 @annvail @rach2602 @sarahdonald87 @firephotogrl74 @ourfinest-hour @k-evans-writes

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction #back to you

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enmusthighs · 1 month

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Ugh I can’t believe I’m venting here of all places but I also need to get this out so bad

For context, i haven’t had an irl friend since I was 11. My parents didn’t want me in public school, the stay at home parent couldn’t drive, I was babied and not even trusted to leave the house to walk/bike ANYWHERE without a parent, but I finally did manage to be allowed social media in my late 16’s.

Both friend groups I’ve had online were ones I cared about deeply and they both ended with me realizing they didn’t care about me in return. One I was the oldest of and 80% of the group was 13, but I still got along with them anyways and after a whole year of being the mom friend, the therapist, the “Ill call the police if you don’t throw up all those pills you intentionally OD’d on because I’m not letting you take your own life so young” stays up all night spam calling them when they said they were gonna ktms only to find out they were bluffing and never even took all those pills or actually intended to hurt themselves, that kind of friend. Then when push came to shove, the one time I needed them, the one time I literally had to Voice message because I couldn’t see my keyboard through tears, they completely ignored and roleplayed over the top of me and left my messages on read.

The second was so much better, they were supportive and funny and super invested in the fandom I’m hyper fixated on and you can ask anyone in my family I was BEYOND happy with them. Then out of the blue, the admin messages me to tell me I’ve sent a server invite. I hadn’t, I didn’t even have people to invite in and I had been hiking in the desert for four hours straight with my family. They let me back in and then booted me out AGAIN after a literal misunderstanding with them thinking I was “Acting like they didn’t have a reason to kick me in the first place”, and said “I think it best if you just leave sorry.”

I tried to explain myself and they came back with “Uh huh, you still sent an invite which is all I need to know.” Mind you I’ve been friends with these people for MONTHS at the time this happens and they’re completely unwilling to hear me out.

Out of desperation not to be kicked from my only friend group at the time I offered to show them screenshots of all my recent DM’s to try and prove I hadn’t sent an invite, they came back with “I don’t need to see that you could’ve deleted the message 💀”. ATP they’re condescending me and acting as if the situation is funny and I’m having a meltdown sobbing in front of my mom and unbeknownst to me at the time starting to get sick from too much sun that day.

So I’m sobbing and seeing red at the same time, and I told them to shove a cactus up their ass but that I’d be explaining to everybody through DM’s why I was gone and what happened. But they got to everyone first, @‘ing everyone just showing me being aggressive and telling them to shove a cactus in their ass and they managed to turn everyone against me. One very sweet person was nice enough to share screenshots of the situation and let me know about it before I ever even reached out to anyone and at that point I was too humiliated to say anything watching everyone make fun of me.

I couldn’t hold food down for the next two days out of a mixture of emotional upset and what might have been heatstroke from that hike. As of today it’s been a week, 2 hours and thirty minutes since that happened and I still haven’t heard from any of those people after the admin blocked me on everything. I still have a DM with most of the people there, but they haven’t once reached out to me and I’m too scared to reach out to them. I just keep thinking about it all on loop.

Oh, and as a bonus fun little side note they fucking posted a slideshow of our DM’s on TikTok, tagged me in it and said “Uh you deserved to be banned as this screenshot shows you invited someone so yeah sowwy ☺️” AND DIDNT BLURR OR CENSOR MY USERNAME. That’s wrong on a LOT of levels, but holy fuck I’m so glad that video got taken down. I hope their 11 likes was worth my internet privacy. And again I legitimately have no clue where that invite was sent, i still swear on my life I didn’t do that.

So yeah, not a peep from any of them and I’m seeing a pattern here. Am I obnoxious, am I boring, do people not find me funny… literally wtf am I doing wrong that nobody cares about me as much as I cared about them? Maybe those were just texts to them but to me online interaction is my ONLY interaction, it meant a lot to me. Maybe I can’t force them to care about me but I wish I could at least force them to understand how bad it feels to realize you’re not cared for. Do I just sound like a chronically online pussy who’s being selfish? Idk, but the loneliness is fucking killing me and I’m scared to be open or even joke around with people anymore. I feel like there’s a standard I’m not aware of that I have to fit for anyone to even consider me an acquaintance.

I still feel literally sick just thinking about the year wasted with those first people and then months with the second, I can’t get all that time back and it doesn’t feel like a happy memory anymore it just puts a pit in my stomach to think of how it all ended.

Christ it’s 2:41 am now and this must sound so fucking dramatic, I need to go to bed.

#not transformers #lonliness rant I guess

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welcomehomefindings · 1 year

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Welcome Home ARG Findings 2

Below, I will list what I noticed that I haven’t seen anyone talk about before. I will list these under a spoiler. Do not read ahead if you want to figure out and find things on your own!

Today’s update is going to be brief, as I don’t have much to share. But I do want to get out what I have found and figured out since my last post.

First things first, I’ve been trying to figure out how the numbers of the “signature” fit into the puzzle. If you didn’t read my last post or need a refresher, I found that the “signature” in one of the images on the website wasn’t actually a signature at all, but a set of numbers placed on top of each other. The numbers, from what I could tell, were 6, 7, 3, and 5. My initial thought was to try to see if these corresponded to any sort of url, much like the misplaced letters on the website do. However, I tried every possible combination of these 4 numbers and found nothing. So as of right now, I still do not know what these are meant for but rather, we at least know what they’re NOT meant for.

The next thing I actually noticed before my first post, but completely forgot to include as I kept that one entirely focused on the slideshow images. This bit is hidden within the gif of Frank’s head spinning on the About Us page. On the books in the bottom right are a series of messages disguised as the books’ titles. Here is a closer look at the books themselves.

From what I can tell, it reads out in order as:

HELLO It’s You Know Who? I’m Your Neighbor. Do you ____ about me? You do. I see you

I can’t tell exactly what the third word of the fourth one is. We believe it’s either “know” or “think”, but it’s too crunchy and blurry for me to make it out as any exact word. So I’ve chosen to leave it as a blank in the transcription.

The last thing I’ll be adding to this post is another observation from the slideshow images that I completely forgot to include with the others due to how excited I was over finding the hidden words. This finding is in the very first image, and is particulaly just an observation that has me a little intrigued. You see, in this image of the slideshow we have several different merchandise items shown off. Each has a little letter placed on it in the advertisement, and the letters lead to descriptions of the items in the lower left of the image. This text is typically far too small to really make out, but by zooming in using my browser, I was able to identify what it says and the fact that there’s one certain item cut off and/or left out of this image. Whether intentionally or unintentionally done, it’s piqued my interest.

In the image, there’s 4 letters attached to the various items. I’ve highlighted them below.

A is attached to the little cut-outs, B is on the record, C is on the house, and D is seemingly attached to the puppet that is holding the record as there’s nothing else there for it to be for. To note, the letter D is not included in the item descriptions in the image. Only A, B, and C are included. I’m not sure if it was left out or if it was cut-off by the bottom of the image. Below is a zoomed in screenshot of the descriptions in the bottom left.

As you can see, D is excluded in the description. I can’t help but feel like if they didn’t want us to notice it, they wouldn’t have included the letter D on the image, or would have included the description for it with the other letters. It’s a little hard to make out what it says unless you look at it really close and focus, but I’ve typed out what it says below.

A. SALLY STARLET AND EDDIE DEAR can be played with for hours with their fellow cut-out neighbors! Included in the #3 "The Welcome Home Dailies" activity booklet. Howdy Pillar included. B. SING-WITH-WALLY RECORD lets yous sing along with Wally Darling and the cavalcade of colorful cast members from "Welcome Home." Includes 7-inch 45 rpm vinyl record with five memorable songs. C. HOME is a darling house fit for the most darling neighbor. One of eight houses to play and place on the WELCOME HOME TM PLAYMAT. Wally Darling included. Wood/Plastic.

That’s all that I’ve noticed that I haven’t seen others mention. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, and I sincerely Welcome you Home~

#welcomehome #horrorarg #welcome home arg #welcome home #arg #Finding Home~

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heyheydidjaknow · 9 months

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Hey missy, I think a lot of us would LIVE to read about your otome project <3

Your phrasing and sentence structure softly kisses my forehead and then slaps me in my face afterwards everytime and if I can get that specific brand of joy by viewing something you are passionate about then expect me to eat it up like leftover birthday cake in the fridge after a night of drinking.

Keep your pretty head up, queen <3

The project is, essentially, to give a comprehensive summary of Mystic Messenger (chat room by chat room, phone call by phone call, pm by pm and story mode by story mode) via slideshow. The main reason I don’t talk about it is because I lowkey become a monster when I get into things at the best of times, and with something like MM it gets way worse. I absolutely can talk about it, but I have very strong opinions about this lil game and its characters that don’t necessarily fit my usual format. I’ll offer a sample of what that would look like under the cut; if it’s the sort of thing y’all would be interested in feel free to lmk.

So I’m doing V’s route right now (against my desires— I spent the 100 hgs so I wouldn’t have to actually suck up to him) and it’s a lot of V telling us (MC, whoever) that we need to not tell people things. Ever since the Secret Endings I have been way less trusting of Seven’s judgement, but nothing has brought me greater frustration than this masochist telling me to not let anyone else in on what’s going on when it’s info that absolutely concerns them. I can smell a bad ending on the horizon because all my answers are essentially “V really should be keeping communication open” and honestly I am standing behind my anti secret policy. The reason he gives— which is a bullshit reason I’m sure— is that everyone else wouldn’t be able to handle the info, which is not only ridiculous and patronizing for them but incredibly frustrating as someone who has to play as this incredibly passive character. We’re supposed to just sit on our hands when we know such pertinent information as where Seven’s twin brother is, who’s behind this whole ordeal, that there’s a cult (?) in the mountains and that we’re being held against our will, etc. I, as someone who’s played the secret endings and the other routes, know that V is trying to keep us out of dodge in his own stupid way, but the idea of being someone who has been kept in a compound in the middle of nowhere and keeping quiet about it instead of trying our luck making a dash for the woods and telling the only people I can tell that I’m in a bad position is incredibly frustrating. When it was (Ray/Saeran)’s route it kinda made sense because we were sticking around for him specifically, but V has made a great escape and is allegedly doing just fine. The lack of agency regarding the MC is always frustrating, but in this route in particular I have a sneaking feeling my desire to actually do shit and try to leave as opposed to following master planner V’s plan is going to get me a bad ending and take another 100 hgs.

Anyways now I’ve got to figure out how to explain what a Medical Proxy/DPOA is in an articulate way because I finally finished the Secret Endings and even though I recognize just asking my audience member to Google it makes more sense I want to make this presentation informative to make up for the months worth of chat rooms my friend (who may very well not be my friend after what I’m sure will be at least an hour of talking about this stupid game) will need to sit through the summaries of. More accurately I need to make a slide to explain what a DPOA because currently the slide part of my slideshow presentation is seriously lacking. Also how do indicate, when a wound is barely on screen, how a shoulder wound miraculously migrated to the elbow. Will keep people posted and maybe, when I am done, I will post the speaker notes here.

#mystic messenger #MM Slideshow #(in case people do actually want updates and other people don’t

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dereksmcgrath · 2 years

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youtube

Below is practically a written script that I am using as the basis for today’s livestream, Day 6 of the non-credit American Literature I survey course, going live at 11 AM EDT today.

Today’s livestream is about applying the framework of the allegory to interpret what Herman Melville is getting at in his novella “Benito Cereno.” Read “Benito Cereno” along with us, for free and legally. Content warnings for discussions about racism and slavery.

And feel free to read along with the script below, and leave a comment or email me to join the discussion!

Introductions

Okay, let’s get started: it’s 11 AM EDT on Tuesday, September 27, 2022. This is a livestream for Day 5 of the American Literature I survey, a non-credit pseudo-class hosted on YouTube and Twitch that looks at United States literature from before 1865.

I’m Derek S. McGrath, my pronouns are he/him/his. I’m not on camera right now–if I was, you would see a white man with glasses and brown hair. I’m opting to instead use a slideshow presentation–while most of what I have to say is already on the slide, there are some details from the slides that I will read aloud.

For example, this slide features a profile photograph of Herman Melville in 1860. This is from the Berkshire Athenaeum in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, available at Wikimedia.org. .

Last Time

Last time, on Thursday, we discussed unreliable narrators in “Rip Van Winkle” as well as how that story shows, even after momentous events, time is a continuum where some things just do not change.

Today

Today, we turn our attention to another story about unreliable narration. Today’s livestream is about applying the framework of the allegory to interpret what Herman Melville is getting at in his novella “Benito Cereno.” Read “Benito Cereno” along with us, for free and legally. Content warnings for discussions about racism and slavery.

Housekeeping

But before we get started, I wanted to very briefly touch two bits of housekeeping.

First, thanks to Benjamin Railton at Fitchburg State College for giving a shout-out to this American Literature I livestream, and welcome to anyone checking out these videos. I have been happy to know Ben for a number of years, and he has been a dynamic speaker and scholar. You can check out his writing on BlogSpot and Twitter, both called AmericanStudier.

And thanks to Ellak Roach as well for telling Ben about what I”ve been up to.

Speaking of Ellak, he has been a contributor on my Ko-fi–ko-fi.com/dereksmcgrath–and as such he got to make a request for my other livestream, Sunday Morning Manga, where I talk about developments in recent Japanese comics and animation, as well as a live-reaction each week to a brand new manga chapter I have yet to read. But for the month of Halloween, I will be looking at some spooky works, too, not just from Japan but around the world. And Ellak had recommended I talk about the American/European animated shorts compilation titled Extraordinary Tales, a set of shorts adapting the works of Edgar Allan Poe, which is pretty relevant to this class’s focus on Poe’s “The Raven” and later “The Cask of Amontillado.” Tune in to that discussion Sunday at 11 AM EDT at youtube.com/dereksmcgrath and twitch.tv/dereksmcgrath.

Questions for Today’s Class

With housekeeping out of the way, let’s jump into Herman Melville’s 1855 novella (or was it published in 1856? We’ll get to that on Thursday), “Benito Cereno.”

Last time, I left you with these three questions to guide today’s discussion. I can already say we’re only really going to get through Question 1 today, touching a bit on Question 2 as well. But let’s review all three questions together:

How is the narration different in “Rip Van Winkle” compared to “Benito Cereno”? What do you learn about the narrator to “Benito”? And how much is that narrator similar to the character we keep following, Delano?

On a related note, describe Delano. How would you describe his powers of observation? What does he get right? What does he get wrong?

Just how much dialogue do you hear coming from Babo? Why do you think Melville made these choices in creating this character?

Where to Split “Benito Cereno”?

Today’s class is unfortunately going to be messier than I would like. I apologize–the past week got away from me, Melville’s writing is always dense so that it affords numerous pathways for how you can teach him, so I really should have better established the cut off point for how far along people should have gotten by today.

Given how dense of a text “Benito Cereno” is, I do think it benefits from two 90-minute classes (or three 60-minute classes, or at least one 3-hour class if this is an expedited summer course or a graduate seminar–without adding another text to those three hours). There are two ways I could see teaching “Benito Cereno” across two days.

Each way depends on the level of the students.

If it’s a lower-level course, don’t do what I did–actually tell students “read from page X to page Y.”

If it’s an upper-level course, maybe do what I’m doing–which is, I’m jumping into this discussion as if you read the entire text already, and then at the end of the livestream, I’m going to encourage you to re-read the text with all in mind that I said, so that you can start really locating the allegory in Melville’s writing. But we’ll get to that in a moment.

(And if you are splitting the text over two days for your class, I recommend putting the cut-off point at the paragraph ending, “Ah good! At last ‘Rover’ has come,” as it is right when Delano is piecing together that something isn’t right, and he almost gets it as he points out contradictions in what he sees–before his last two working brain cells fail and he just shrugs this all off as nothing to worry about.)

Today we will touch lightly on the plot itself, while most time will be about the real-life events that inspired “Benito Cereno,” and why and how Melville altered those events to suit his writing. And that means we have to talk about two literary tools that Melville uses to write this story. First, we will continue from last week’s discussion about the unreliable narrator in “Rip Van Winkle” to look at a different sort of unreliable narrator in “Benito Cereno.” Second, we will look at the literary artform that Melville borrows a bit from to write “Benito Cereno,” that being the allegory. Then, on Thursday’s livestream, we will map out how Melville adheres to the allegory format–and when he deviates from that allegory format. What is the allegory? We will give one definition of the allegory later today.

History and Narration

But let’s turn to one of the three questions I asked you to think about at the end of the previous livestream. One question I left you with last time was to do a comparison of the narration between “Rip Van Winkle” and “Benito Cereno.” Let’s track a few of the differences.

In both cases, the narration is presented as if these are real events. But notice differences in how each author attributes a sense of authenticity to their stories. It all has to do with the opening. Irving begins “Rip Van Winkle” by insisting there was a real historian named Diedrich Knickerbocker who really did interview real Dutch people around the Catskills of New York to get this story. Melville doesn’t do that. We get this first sentence from him:

“In the year 1799, Captain Amasa Delano, of Duxbury, in Massachusetts, commanding a large sealer and general trader, lay at anchor, with a valuable cargo, in the harbor of St. Maria–a small, desert, uninhabited island towards the southern extremity of the long coast of Chili. There he had touched for water.”

Irving overly insists on the frame narrative that there was a real historian. Melville doesn’t. Melville places you into a real year–1799–with a real geopolitical location–Chili, St. Maria island–with physical dimensionality–an island. Irving is lending legend to his story, to make “Rip Van Winkle” seem to be of a bygone time, lost to us, before the American Revolution. Melville, writing around 1855, places this story in 1799. And we have to talk about the history of that choice of year–including that there was a really real guy named Amasa Delano, who was really real, as opposed to the really fake Diedrich Knickerbocker and the really fake Rip Van Winkle.

Norton Critical Editions

And to learn more about the real Amasa Delano, we have to talk about what I’m reading.

If you are a teacher, you need to pick up some Norton Critical Editions. If you are going into graduate school, you need to pick up some Norton Critical Editions. I don’t mean the anthologies–I mean these 400-page editions of usually one to three works by major authors. In this case, I’m reading from the Norton Critical Edition titled Melville’s Short Novels, edited by Dan McCall, Professor of American Studies at Cornell University, published in 2002.

Do not buy these new if you can avoid it: I got this one used about three years ago at a local neighborhood sale. And if you really do the latest ones Norton keeps putting out, if you are a teacher, see about getting free desk copies, or if you go to conventions (AND ARE MASKED UP, VACCINATED, SOCIAL DISTANCING, AND WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU STILL GOING TO IN-PERSON CONVENTIONS, THE PANDEMIC IS STILL GOING ON), you may find some publishers in the exhibit hall selling books like these at sharp discounts, or giving them away for free, on the very last day of the convention.

But what is really valuable about the Norton Critical Editions is that, even this one published in 2002, includes so much information about the works discussed. This edition includes a “Context” section, featuring the works that inspired Melville’s writing. You get the real-life Amasa Delano’s narrative that Melville used as a basis for “Benito Cereno.” You also get Melville’s essay on cannibals to understand from where he is drawing his descriptions of the enslaved people.

And the Norton Critical Editions include a “Criticism” section. Now, obviously, criticism that comes from 2002 is not going to be as good as more recent scholarship–not only because that scholarship is newer and includes all information up to that point, but because major scholarship will cite the heavy hitters, the most obvious scholars, critics, and arguments about what they are writing. But, if as a teacher your library has limited access to Internet databases (or, if you are an independent scholar, you’re having to pay for those databases–hint, hint, please contribute to me at ko-fi.com/dereksmcgrath to help me start signing up for databases I can’t get to on my own without paying), you get scholarship that mostly stands the test of time. McCall’s critical edition of Melville, for example, includes his own essay about the reliability of a narrator, as well as later authors who cited Melville–Ralph Ellison in Invisible Man, for example–and other essays trying to tease out what the text means, how to read Babo, and so on.

The Real Amasa Delano

So, that was a long diatribe that basically said, “I am reading the Norton Critical Edition for ‘Benito Cereno’ because the footnotes give the real-life history that inspired this story, and includes a chapter from the real-life Delano’s book about what he says really happened.”

Let’s talk again about the year that Melville says this happened: 1799. No, it did not. I’m guessing Melville knew he was changing the year–we’ll get back to why in a moment. But the events represented from Delano’s real life were from the year 1805.

Some other changes that Melville made: the ships in real life were called the Perseverance and the Tryal. Stop for a moment and think about that. If Melville kept those real names, how would this story differ? Delano’s ship was the Perseverance. Doesn’t that make you conjure up this more heroic archetype, the man who refuses to back down and keeps sailing? But Delano in Melville’s story is an utter fool–so, Perseverance would gain more attention as an ironic name: it would mean Delano persists with the wrong action because he persists in doing the wrong thing over and over again. And the Tryal–well, given the associations between Melville’s story and the story of the Amistad, that would be so obvious.

What does this all mean, then, that Melville so willingly changes the names of these ships, when their symbolic value is so obvious already? Because Melville wanted to go further, and he wanted to change your perspective on what he wants these characters to be. He re-named Delano’s ship from Perseverance to Bachelor’s Delight–I’m guessing to emphasize that Delano, like a bachelor out for a good time, out for delights, is so rose-tinted in his shades that he can’t see just how horrifying things are and is so oblivious to the freaking slave revolt in front of him. The man is a fool. And Melville changed the name from Tryal to the San Dominick. Why? Because allegory–and we’ll get to the very detailed definition of an allegory, and one way to teach it, in a moment. Why call the ship the San Dominick? I’ll read from the Norton Critical Edition, Page 34, footnote 1: “Modern readers see [in the ship name San Dominick] an allusion to the island of Santo Domingo, where Toussaint L’Overture led a slave rebellion in the 1790s.” I’m going to pause here and say that seemed like a stretch–you have to take one extra step to connect the name origins of “Dominick” and “Domingo”--until I saw the 1790s reference, which would then explain to us why Melville also changed the year: he is creating this web of references that all keep pointing to the big circle that has in the center of it the words “slave rebellion” in big flashing letters. Continuing from the same footnote: “San Dominick may also refer to Dominican monks, the ‘Black Friars’ prominent in the Spanish Inquisition.”

I think we can pause here with the talk about narrators and history and start talking about what Melville did here–and just who this guy Melville was.

Bio of Herman Melville

What can we say about Herman Melville? He was an admirer of the works of Nathaniel Hawthorne–we’ll get to him later this semester. He was familiar with sailing, having been a sailor and writing numerous short stories and novels about those experiences, probably the one most well known in popular culture being Moby-Dick. But those experiences as a sailor also had Melville meeting with people living on those islands, that were being colonized on those islands–and while you can debate where Melville’s politics were, for his time, we end up looking at him as progressive when it comes to seeing the people on those islands as human beings, who shouldn’t be converted, colonized, conquered. How much of this is out of Melville’s romanticizing of those people is certainly up for debate. But I would hope, as you come out of reading “Benito Cereno” and see how he documents how Americans and Spaniards enslaved people who are Black, that you see how Melville did recognize humanity in all human beings–although there are definitely missteps by our standards as well as the standards of his time, where you could most certainly do a reading of “Benito Cereno” that asks the horrifying question, “Is Melville suggesting the problem of the ship is that the slaves _are_ in control, and that is terrifying?” We’ll get to more of that on Thursday.

Allegory

For now, let’s turn attention to the structure Melville uses in writing “Benito Cereno.” I had said that Melville, likely on purpose, changed the names and dates in Amasa Delano’s story. How could he get the history so wrong? What if he didn’t? I mean, yes, obviously, these are not the actual names and dates–it is unlikely that Melville didn’t read Delano’s book and didn’t know the actual names and dates. So, why did he change them? That leads to our first exercise today, and it will help you to show students how dense this text is–and why they need to re-read it. To encourage students to re-read the text, I recommend using your class to introduce the structure of an allegory.

You’ve heard the word “allegory.” It’s probably been used to you in the same way we use words like “parables” or “morality plays” or “lessons.” In other words, we think of an allegory as “a story that is really about something else, and that it teaches us a lesson.” It would be like saying “Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter is an allegory for the mob coercing people into conformity.” Or, “The Crucible was Arthur Miller warning people about McCarthyism by citing the earlier historical example of the false accusations and witch-hunting of the literal Salem witch hunts.” Or “Orwell’s Animal Farm and 1984 warn about whichever political structure you fear,” “Zootopia is about racism,” and so on.

But “allegory” is a bit weighter than all of that. Those examples I gave are definitely extended metaphors–in other words, this story is not really about the time period, the location, or even the species of characters in it, they are all representative of something about our time, our location, our people. But an allegory is as different from just a parable in the same way that a metaphor differs from metonymy: a parable is a one-to-one correspondence between two things, just as a metaphor is substituting one thing for another; an allegory is a web of symbols that are all in correspondence with our current moment, just as metonymy is not just one metaphor but a web of symbols, and each symbols if a metaphor for something else, so that metonymy is a web of metaphors.

That’s all really confusing. Let me try another approach, one where we break down an allegory into four parts.

The Literal Reading

A record of something that happened. In other words, just the events of the story. What the words on the page say and nothing beyond that.

(This is why teachers will frequently admonish students to get back to the text–start with that story, just describe what happens in the story–beginning, middle, end, who does what for what reason and how they do it.)

In other words, tell me the story again, like Luis repeating the Ant-Man story in Ant-Man: “First Delano finds a ship in distress, which causes him to board the ship. But what he doesn’t know is that the enslaved people on the ship, led by Babo, have staged a mutiny and taken over the ship and holding the captain, the titular Benito Cereno, hostage. So when Delano shows up, Cereno freaks out and try to play it cool and pretend that he’s in charge and that there is no mutiny, who said there was a mutiny, everything’s fine here, don’t check the sails for the hanged corpse of the person who enslaved all these people! And Cereno’s panic causes Babo to stand with Cereno at all times to keep him in line so he doesn’t blow their cover, which confuses Delano, but Delano is too ignorant to connect the dots and instead just thinks, ‘Boy, Babo is really loyal to Cereno, always hanging around him, what a loyal guy’ until even the plot it too tired of Delano being this naive and so has Cereno literally throw himself at Delano’s feet to escape, which then prompts the enslaved people to pull out knives and just start killing people, exposing the charade. Oh, and we hurry up past the climax to court documents and some exposition where Babo is defeated, captured, and executed. And then Cereno dies some time later. The end.”

That’s the literal reading. Now, we move onto the actual allegory itself. This is called…

The Typological Reading, or the Allegorical Reading

This is when you interpret. This is when you look for symbols, representations, substitutions, parallels to our own time. If the literal is what is said, then the typological is what it means. It is your interpretation of that text.

So, we have a ship called the Bachelor’s Delight–which, as I said, represents how naive and lackadaisical Delano is. We have the Saint Dominick, which, by its name and the year of this story, represents just all of the evils of slavery. And we have have this American Delano, who is so ignorant about how bad slavery is, that he can’t see Babo always hanging around as a threat to Cereno, and instead thinks Babo is the loyal slave popular in the American imagination in this pre-Civil War time period.

But the typological reading is more than just what it means and what interpretation you mean: it is proof that this story is still relevant in our time. What does this story, if we treat it as recorded history, as if it is real events of the past, say about our present moment? In other words, how do we apply this story to our current lives?

(This is where discussion with students about the three moments is necessary: the moment of representation, the moment of production, and the moment of reception. In this case, the typological is how the moment of representation applies to the moment of reception.)

And so, if we now need to talk about how this story applies to our time, we have to turn to the next reading…

The Moral Reading, or the Tropological Reading

The moral of the story, what lesson you should learn from this story. This is why the story is relevant to our present moment. Think of the typological reading as opening up a question; now the tropological reading, the moral reading, is answering that question: “If the typological reading asks us what is the problem with slavery, then the tropological reading gives us some complex answers...”

And this is where I have to pause and ask, what do you think Melville’s readers thought? That’s a tall order to ask, because it requires making assumptions that none of us can make–because the readership is too wide to reduce to just one reading. Sure, we could pull out book reviews from the time period, letters people sent to each other about reading “Benito Cereno.” But if I had to look at the moral people took away? There are two, one of which is terrifying. The first reading is what I would hope we would apply to our time: when supposedly good people–which Delano is supposed to be, that “nice guy” archetype that is just so nice that he must be an upstanding moral person–when those supposedly good people cannot see something horrific in front of them, like slavery, and have to pretend it’s just Babo being a loyal servant, then injustice and inhumanity will persist. Or, there is the second reading, which is terrifying, because you just know someone in America read the story this way, and how wrong they got it with this racist kind of a reading: a reading that suggests that an enslaved could hide their intentions so well, that you cannot recognize it, and be so crafty that he can lead a rebellion, so you Americans need to be more observant and figure out what is right in front of you, before these enslaved people stage a rebellion.

And that leads to the last reading…

The Anagogical Reading

What is prophesied? What is predicted to happen next? Where do we go from here? The anagogical reading is looking to the future for what we should do next.

I kind of just summarized it: either Americans will persist with slavery, which will lead to this bloodshed as an inevitably, because when you enslave your fellow human beings, do you just think they are going to stand by and take it, or will seize on the opportunity to get the freedom they are entitled to by their very humanity, by any means necessary; or, Americans will misinterpret all of this, and think that enslaved people are ready to rebel and that such rebellions must be put down before they can get started. Please, for the love of God, tell me people in Melville’s time read this story the first way, not the second.

If you are interested in more about the four parts of allegory, I’ll admit that I needed a refresher on these terms to prepare for this week’s discussion about “Benito Cereno.” I first learned these terms from Michael Harrawood at Florida Atlantic University when he was teaching my class about Dante’s Divine Comedy and other medieval literature. But the refresher I read was from a college class’s wiki, available from McGill University. Medieval texts like Dante’s are valuable for tracing one of many paths that have been used in United States literature for creating allegories and moral stories–Catholic, to be sure, but perhaps relevant when we get to how the Puritans were writing when we read Winthrop, Rowlandson, and Bradstreet.

I hope that what I showed above is useful for teasing out the allegorical potential to this story. We’ll talk more about the allegory as a model for understanding “Benito Cereno” on Thursday. But for now, I recommend this as an exercise to do with your students: have students, in groups or as a class, summarize the story of “Benito Cereno,” page by page. Talk about not only the order of events as presented in the text, but how they are chronological. In the next class, have them come to class ready to discuss the allegorical, moral, and anagogical readings. We’ll get to those on Thursday.

But I will introduce a few strands of the text that readers should look for. I already summarized the story, so let’s try to do the other three readings–the allegory, the moral, and the future reading.

The allegory: Here is how we know slavery is bad.

The moral: Don’t do this to other people.

The future: Don’t do this in the future.

Next Time

I’ll pause here for today, as this is already a lot to talk about.

So, for next time, we will get to those questions that we didn’t get to today:

On a related note, describe Delano. How would you describe his powers of observation? What does he get right? What does he get wrong?

Just how much dialogue do you hear coming from Babo? Why do you think Melville made these choices in creating this character?

But I also want to add two more questions:

Re-read “Benito Cereno,” now using the structure of the allegory. Summarize the four aspects of allegory present in this text. In other words, answer these questions:

First, what is the literal story–beginning, middle, and end?

Second, interpret that story: What is this story about? What is the problem it is addressing?

Third, what is the moral to this story? In other words, what is the answer to that question that this text is addressing?

And finally, how would you apply this story, its problem, and its moral to your own life, or to our own world right now?

What are some missed opportunities in this text? Given what I’m thinking is a potential mis-reading where readers are going to come away thinking Delano and Cereno are the good guys in this equation, and Babo is the bad guy, or is going to be read as some problematic archetypes (“noble savage” being one of them), how could you re-write this story to keep the same message but maybe make its message much clearer to the audience? Or, to be put it another way, have you seen “Benito Cereno” and its themes pop up in more recent works of pop culture?

Questions to Wrap Up

And as you look back on what we discussed in “Benito Cereno” today, consider these questions, some of which we should have been able to answer today:

Is Delano’s failure due to him just having a personality and set of skills where he is not good at observing people? Cite evidence to support your claim. Does this mean he became so prominent in his role on a ship for reasons other than his skill set? Alternatively, is Delano actually really skilled at observing people–but just fails to link those observations to logical conclusion, because he is willfully ignorant out of his own prejudices, not only due to racism but also due to an American-centered attitude and his economic position?

How would you describe Melville’s politics? Do you think he’s as progressive as people today imagine him to be? Or, is he using some stock archetypes about enslaved Black people that perpetuate racism? Or, is he using those archetypes because this is how Delano is imagining the situation, and that just shows how ignorant Delano really is that he has to re-imagine what is right in front of him as something comfortable and non-threatening so he doesn’t start panicking that he is on a ship that is now being controlled by the enslaved people ready to kill him?

Finally, is the allegory really that useful for analysis and communicating a message? Or, is looking for symbolism actually making it harder to get any moral out of a story, and obscures what the plot may be telling us otherwise?

Or, what question do you think we should have answered today? I’d love to know–feel free to share your question in the comments or email me, [email protected]. And if you enjoyed this livestream, consider a monetary contribution at ko-fi.com/dereksmcgrath–your financial support helps keep me working in education.

Until Thursday at 11 AM EDT, I’ve been Derek S. McGrath. You have a good afternoon. Bye.

#herman melville #benito cereno #american literature i #livestream #cw: slavery #cw: racism #Youtube

1 note · View note

natsfirecat · 3 years

Note

Okay! Here’s my request:

Natasha x asexual reader (female),where Natasha confesses her feelings for the reader, but the reader reluctantly rejects her. So after turning down Natasha’s declaration of love, the reader can’t stand seeing Natasha all beaten down and upset, so the reader confesses that she is asexual, telling Natasha that she deserves to be with someone who can give her everything and satisfy her needs. That the reader won’t be enough, no matter how much in love she is with Natasha. But little does the reader know, Natasha doesn’t want those needs, but you.

What do you think? 😃🖤💜🤍

Enough

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x asexual fem reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: much to her dismay, r has to reject her crush, natasha

warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex and sexual attraction, lmk if i need to add any more

A/N: thank you for this request! i love writing for asexual reader sm! i hope you like it, and remember that aces are valid and amazing! :D

also not proofread very well. i'm tired and too lazy rn lmao

You fiddled with your ring, staring blankly at the wall. You had just gotten home from a mission, and needed some time to rest up.

The mission had gone well, you went with Natasha. Your task was to stop a HYDRA attack on civilians. Everything went as planned, and there were no casualties.

Now that you were back, all you wanted to do was rest up and relax.

So, you did just that.

You only woke a few hours later because of Natasha calling you, saying that you had to debrief the mission.

So you reluctantly got out of bed, and made your way to the meeting room.

Fury was there, reading files, and Natasha sat in her usual seat. Her face lit up when you walked in, then she waved and motioned for you to sit down.

As Fury started going over the mission, you just gave short, straight to the point answers to his questions.

It wasn’t until Natasha gave a detailed summary that he let you leave.

While walking out the room, she stopped you.

“Are you going to Tony’s party tonight?”

“Wanda’s making me,”

She laughed, knowing that you most definitely would not be going to a social gathering unless one of your friends forced you.

“Well, I think it’ll be fun. I’ll see you there,”

You were about to shrug and go on a rant about how Tony’s parties were very much overrated, but she simply waved goodbye and made her way down the hallway back to her room.

You were about to do the same before you felt someone tap your arm from behind.

You whipped around, then grinned to see Carol.

“You’ve been back and haven’t seen me yet?”

“Sorry…” you muttered, suddenly feeling guilty.

“You can make it up to me by getting me food,”

You rolled your eyes, then agreed, knowing you would get yourself food too.

She gave you a satisfied smile before beginning to walk down the steps towards the garage of cars.

She stepped into the driver’s seat of course, while you followed behind in the passenger’s seat.

“IHOP?” She asked, despite the fact that it was 3:00 in the afternoon.

“Yes!”

“Great, you’re buying!”

You rolled your eyes, already knowing she would say that.

“So how’d the mission go?” She asked.

“It was fine, nothing exciting happened.

“As soon as we convince Fury to let you come to space with me for missions, things will get a lot more exciting for you,”

You smiled, then chuckled at her statement.

She would talk to you about space all the time, and you had often expressed interest in it. So she took it upon herself to make a slideshow presentation about why you should be allowed to go with her to space. It still needed some work, but she was absolutely planning on presenting it to Fury when it was done.

“Where will you take me?”

“Well we’d start off with something close, maybe not exit the galaxy neighborhood quite yet,”

You laughed again, looking forward to your space adventures with your best friend.

Carol had eaten about a quarter of her food before she broke the silence,

“So I heard you tell Natasha that you’re going tonight,”

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, choosing to stare at your pancakes instead of making eye contact.

“Well that’s good, maybe you guys can talk and…”

“And what?” You were beginning to get a little irritated.

“Oh come on! We both know how you feel. Why can’t you just talk with her about it?”

“You know why, Carol,” you said as you subconsciously began to fidget with the black ring you always wore on the middle finger of your right hand.

She sighed, not wanting to fight you on this. So she went back to eating her pancakes, and didn’t say another word about it to you.

As you reluctantly promised, you were at the party that night. Not wanting to engage too much, you stood off at the edge of the room, taking a small sip of your drink.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Wanda and Natasha talking. You thought nothing of it, until you saw Wanda wink at her.

You turned your head to the side, then accidentally made eye contact.

Quickly shifting your gaze to the floor, you took another sip of your drink to hide your embarrassment.

You then decided to walk away, not wanting to create any more awkward tension.

You made your way into the next room until you almost bumped into Sam, who gave you a weird look as he stepped away from you.

“You alright, L/N?” He asked.

“I’m good!” You told him, quickly walking away.

When you finally got to the corner of the other room, you took a deep breath. You finally let yourself relax against the wall, away from the person you wanted to avoid tonight.

You closed your eyes for a minute, pretending you weren’t here.

For just a moment, it worked; you weren’t a loud, crowded party. You were just happy in your room watching movies and eating popcorn. No one was bothering you, and you didn’t have to worry about anything.

Unfortunately, your moment didn’t last.

Your eyes opened again when you heard your name called several times. Standing in front of you, was Natasha.

You noticed both Wanda and Carol standing at the door, watching the both of you.

“Hi, Y/N,” she said, her voice shakier than normal. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, can we talk somewhere more private?”

You nodded, then began to follow her back the way you came until you were in another hallway that didn’t have anyone in it.

“Y/N,” she began. “I’ve always liked you as a person, I think you’re brilliant on the field, and I just love being around you. I feel these things around you, and it’s scary. But there’s something between us, I can feel it, and I think you feel it too. I’d like to explore these feelings, so… would you want to go out together… on a date?”

You let out a sigh as your heart dropped. You felt tears coming to your eyes as you thought about what she was saying to you. As much as it would hurt both of you, you had to do it.

“I’m really sorry, Natasha, but no. I can’t.”

“Oh-” she was taken aback from your response, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice. “This was stupid, you’re right. I’m sorry for even asking in the first place, I-” she couldn’t even finish her sentence before walking off, leaving you alone.

Two days later, Natasha had barely left her room. She stayed under the covers, mostly trying to sleep. Of course, it eventually turned into hours of staring at the ceiling while her stomach was in knots.

So, she took a sip from the bottle of vodka she brought up to her room, and leaned back against the headboard.

As soon as she felt tears forming in her eyes, she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. She watched the saddest movies and TV shows she could think of, and ended up finishing the entire bottle.

If she was going to be sad and cry, it would be from too much drinking while watching sad stuff. It wouldn’t be from you. Natasha refused to let herself cry over a simple rejection.

But it wasn’t a simple rejection.

She’s had these feelings for you for months.

Your smile has made her heart flutter since your first mission with her. She vividly remembers the way your eyes lit up when you found out you were paired with her.

The two of you ended up working so well together. At the end of the mission, you held both your hands up for a double high five. The gesture confused her at first, but she eventually gave in and placed her hands against yours. That’s when you gave her the same smile that still gives her butterflies.

She didn’t even start to notice it until a few months ago, when Clint called her out on it. He noticed that your name was brought up in their conversations a lot. So he blatantly asked her what her feelings for you were.

Of course, she denied everything at first. You were just a friend who was nice to work with. Nothing more.

She didn’t fully realize it until Wanda called her out on it too.

You were eating breakfast, and Natasha’s eyes never left you. You exchanged smiles a few times, and the butterfly feeling in her stomach kept growing.

Wanda saw, feeling a smile grow on her face as she glanced between the two of you. Of course, her powers made this even more fun for her.

While she didn’t usually like to invade people’s private thoughts, especially her friends’, Natasha’s thoughts were loud. Yours too.

So after you got up, and waved goodbye to the both of them, Wanda immediately cornered Natasha. Normally, she wouldn’t do something like that to the assassin, but she felt okay with it considering that her thoughts of you softened her up a bit.

“So, when are you planning on asking Y/N out?” She asked her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You guys would make such a good couple, you should ask her out!”

“Absolutely not! We’re just friends,”

Wanda let out a huff, then rolled her eyes.

“You seem to forget that I’m a telepath,”

This time, Natasha rolled her eyes at her.

“Stay out of my head, Maximoff,”

And with that, she walked away, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

Of course, Wanda had other plans.

The next week, she made mental notes of how the two of you would interact. No matter how much you both denied it, she knew you had feelings for each other.

While you smiled around everyone, you smiled the most around her. Your eyes would light up, and you’d be grinning from ear to ear. And your smile would usually cause her to reciprocate it. She rarely smiled, but she was okay with you seeing her smile.

On top of that, Wanda noticed all the small gestures you would do for each other.

She would pack your bag for missions often, and you would share your food with her.

While both of those things could be seen as platonic, she knew better. You definitely had feelings for each other.

So when she brought it up to Natasha again, she couldn’t even deny it this time.

“Tell anyone, and I’ll make you feel pain you didn’t even know could be felt,” Natasha threatened her.

Wanda nodded, promising that she only wanted to help her.

Eventually, the assassin gave in and let her plan the whole thing out.

It would work out in the end, it had to.

Now, Natasha let out a growl of frustration as Wanda entered her room.

“Can you at least knock?”

“I’m worried about you, Nat,”

Despite her glares, Wanda continued walking towards her until she sat down on the foot of her bed.

“Why do you even care? You lied to me, you said it would work!”

“I really thought it would, I’m so sorry. But you can’t keep yourself locked in here, we’re all worried about you,”

“I can’t face her after I humiliated myself like that. Why would you tell me she had feelings for me too? You said you could tell from her thoughts, but she clearly doesn’t see me that way. Now I’ve probably ruined my friendship with her too.”

“I don’t know why that happened,”

“Please, just leave me alone.”

Letting out a disappointed sigh, Wanda realized this would get her nowhere. Natasha still needed a bit more time.

As she saw her friend leave the room, she finally allowed the tears to fall again.

She hated herself for it, but maybe she actually was crying over you.

It wasn’t like you were doing any better.

You only left your room to train with Carol, and to bring food back up to your room since you didn’t want to eat with everyone else.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Wanda glared at you when you passed her in the hallway. You ended up glaring right back, surprised by her sudden hostility towards you.

The two of you had been relatively close, but she was especially close with Natasha. You knew you had hurt her with your rejection, but in the end, you were doing her a favor.

She’d understand that eventually, and hopefully, so would Wanda.

For now, you lay in bed. You were clinging tightly onto your pillow, letting a few sobs escape.

Even though you knew the rejection was for the best, for both you and Natasha, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

You were only saving the both of you from future heartbreak. It would be worth it eventually. Soon enough, you’d both get over it and go back to being the friends you once were.

However, now you continued crying into your pillow.

You wished you could just turn feelings on and off with a switch, but you couldn’t. It would make things so much easier if these feelings didn’t exist in the first place.

You had tried to suppress and deny them at first.

You ignored the way you felt yourself smiling more at her. You ignored the way you felt like you were on top of the world when she returned your smile. You ignored the way your stomach turned into a knot of nerves whenever you touched; whether it was a full on hug or just fingers brushing past each other in the hallway.

When she sat next to you on movie night though, closer than she normally did, that’s when you realized you couldn’t ignore the feelings anymore.

You wanted to completely close the distance between the two of you, and snuggle completely into her. You wanted to kiss her, and hold her tight. You wanted everything to do with her.

But you couldn’t have her, and it hurt like hell.

After another two days, Carol came barging into your room.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” She said, getting straight to the point.

Your eyes widened, but you said nothing as she sat down and glared at you.

“You’ve been sulking for days, and haven’t done anything about it,”

You shrugged, sinking back father into the bed.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to her!”

“No! I’m just gonna stay here until my feelings go away,”

“Y/N, I love you, platonically, but sometimes you’re the dumbest person I know,”

“Thanks, Carol,”

“Your feelings aren’t gonna magically go away like that. If you don’t wanna date her, then at least talk to her so you can both have some closure on this!”

“I can’t, she’d never understand and it’d just be a whole thing, and I don’t want that,”

“You explained it to me and I understood,”

“Well yeah, cuz it doesn’t affect you at all. It affects her because it’s the reason I can’t be with her,”

“Have you ever thought to consider that maybe she wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course she’d mind, Carol,”

Sighing, your best friend decided she wasn’t gonna win this battle today.

Despite her anger towards you, she still reached over and hugged you before getting up and leaving.

Once again, you were left alone in your own misery.

You began to fidget with your ring, staring at the flag on your wall. The black, grey, white, and purple colors stood out against the wall, adding a nice touch to your room.

You were obviously proud and unashamed of who you were, but that didn’t change the fact that so many people didn’t understand it. So it was just easier to not bring it up. Maybe one day you could find someone like you, who’d understand.

Tears began to fill your eyes as you thought about Natasha. You hated that you had to do this.

You weren’t even sure if you would be able to salvage your friendship at the end of this. That just made everything worse.

You lay back down again, clinging onto the pillow once more.

You remembered the way you felt when Natasha first smiled at you. You remembered the happiness she made you feel. You remembered just how much you wanted to be around her.

Luckily, your thoughts of misery finally stopped when you managed to fall asleep.

The next day, Carol dragged you out of your room. Literally dragged, she grabbed both your wrists and pulled you out of the bed until you hit the floor.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“No more sulking, you’re getting up and not coming back to your room until tonight. Let’s go,”

You sighed in defeat, then stood up, following her out of your room.

She dragged you downstairs to the kitchen, where she already had breakfast laying out for you.

As annoyed as you were with her, you definitely thought it was sweet that she was going through all this effort for you.

So you sat down and began eating, forcing a smile. You were still hurting, but for now, you could fake it in front of your friend.

She sat down next to you, and seemed satisfied.

You gave a small smile, then continued eating.

It was progress.

When Natasha finally came down, you were the last person she expected to see. Her bloodshot, puffy eyes widened as she saw you with Carol.

She immediately looked away, not wanting to face you, especially like this.

Unfortunately for her, you had already made eye contact for a moment. You took in her appearance, letting out a deep exhale.

She refused to say anything, then turned around as if she had never been there in the first place.

As soon as she left, you turned back to Carol.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?”

As much as the logical part of your mind tried to convince you not to do this, the other part was currently making you.

So now, you stood outside Natasha’s bedroom, hand hovering over the door, prepared to knock.

You took in a few deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open before you were ready.

“Y/N?” Natasha didn’t expect to see you after what happened. “What are you doing?”

“Can we please talk?”

She frowned, thinking about what happened the last time you two talked. But, she opened the door wider, letting you in.

You walked over to her bed, waiting for her to nod, giving you permission to sit down.

“I just wanted to start off by saying that I’m really sorry for this, for hurting you like that,”

“You don’t need to apologize. You can’t change how you feel.”

“I know, but here’s the thing; I have feelings for you too,”

Her eyes widened in both shock and confusion.

“Then why’d you say no?”

You took in a few more deep breaths, preparing yourself.

“I’m asexual,” you finally got out. “While I feel romantic attraction to you, and really like you, I’m not sexually attracted to you. I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”

She tilted her head to the side, but continued listening as you went on.

“So as much as I do like you, it’s not fair for us to be together. You deserve someone who can give you everything you want and need in a relationship, and I can’t do that.” You told her, trying to prevent yourself from crying. “No matter how much I love you, I won’t be enough,”

That’s what broke you, causing the tears to stream down your face as they had so many times within the past few days. Telling her everything you had been thinking, and finally getting it out.

You noticed a few tears forming in her eyes as she sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I wish you had told me earlier, though,”

“I know, I’m sorry,”

“You’re wrong though,”

“About what?”

“You are enough for me, Y/N. I don’t care about sex, I just want you.”

“Really? You mean it?”

“Of course I do,”

You let out a gasp, then turned and wrapped both your arms around her, leaning in between her chest and neck.

“You’re okay with kisses though, right?”

You smiled, then leaned in and crashed your lips against hers. That certainly answered her question.

It felt like a weight was lifted off the both of you. You loved being like this with her, lips connected and arms wrapped around one another. You never wanted to let go.

When you had to break apart for air, Natasha smirked at you.

“So how about that date now?”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff asexual #natasha romanoff x asexual reader #natasha romanoff x asexual!reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow asexual #black widow x asexual reader #black widow x fem reader #natalia alianovna romanova

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can-youimagine · 3 years

Text

Love and Loss (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

Summary: You were in love with Aaron Hotchner, but life got in the way. What happens when years later, he comes back?

TW: Feminine Reader, mention of Hayley's death, mention of minor character deaths

Word Count: 877

A/N: idk if I want this to be a series or not. Let me know!

Masterlist

You hug your friend with glassy eyes. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Aaron responds with complete sincerity. “I don’t want to go.”

“C’mon. You’re not going to be a bigshot lawyer if you hang around me.”

“I think we should test your theory.”

You roll your eyes. “You whine too much. Haley deserves an award for putting up with you.”

He laughs loudly. “You’ll be at the wedding, right? We can say a real goodbye then.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

You did miss it. You spent the entire day crying in your bed because you couldn’t let Aaron go. If anyone asked why you would say it’s because you knew you couldn’t say goodbye to Aaron again, but really, you couldn’t stand the thought that you completely missed your chance with him. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him throughout high school, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk your friendship. You planned to tell him before he left for college, but he told you that he was engaged. You couldn’t wreck that for him.

Still, you forced yourself to move on. You got your teaching license and a job in a school you loved. You were almost glad you never told Aaron how you felt. It could have completely changed your life. After a while, you completely forgot about Aaron Hotchner.

That is until you walk into your beginning of the year staff meeting. You flip through your class list.

Macy Abner

Lance Calvin

Samuel Carter

Kiera Davidson

Sophia French

Ella Gonzolez

Elizabeth Hall

Jack Hotchner

Jack Hotchner. Hotchner? That’s not all. On his contact information (which you immediately opened), you see his name. Aaron Hotchner. After all these years, you had to see him again.

Aaron Hotchner prided himself on his ability to understand people. He could meet a person and within five minutes know who they voted for, what time they go to bed, and if they had a pet. He even thought he understood you until you didn’t show up at his wedding.

He admits, starting his marriage wondering what you were doing was not the best idea. But, as time went on, he began to forget about you. He was able to forget about you for years until he showed up at Jack’s parent night.

Ms. (Y/N) (L/N)’s Second Grade Class

Surely, not his (Y/N).

Aaron holds onto this thought as he sits in the auditorium, listening to the principal drone on about how great this school year is going to be. He holds onto it as he walks down the almost too bright hallway. He holds onto it as he sits in the small desk. He holds onto it until you turn around.

He stares at you, completely dumbstruck by you. He has so much he wants to tell you. He has so much he wants to ask you. A part of him, the small part he allows to dream, hopes you will stop the night, send everyone home, and explain everything to him. Still, he knows that you won’t remember him, let alone recognize him.

To his surprise, you do. You give a small smile before launching into your spiel.

“Hi, everyone,” you greet with a smile. “I”m Ms. (L/N). I am so excited to be your teacher.” You move back over to your desk, turning on your projector before continuing. “I wanted to give you a little information about me before going into the school-stuff, good?”

There are a few murmurs of agreement, prompting you to flip through a slideshow about your life. There are pictures of you at your high school and college graduations, a camping trip with your friends, and even a picture of your cat. None of a kid or even spouse, Aaron notes. The slides switch from your life to your classroom policies, giving him a chance to think about your relationship or lack thereof.

The bell buzzes through the intercom, causing you to laugh. God, he missed that laugh. “Well, that’s my time. I’ll let y’all get home. Feel free to stay behind if you have any more questions. I am so excited to see your kids in a week. Have a good night!”

Most parents file out of the room, a few stay behind to ask a quick question.

Aaron does not move. He sits in the world’s most uncomfortable desk until all the parents have gone.

You finally address him. “Do you have a question?”

A question? He has about a thousand. “No, sorry.” He awkwardly slides out of the desk. “Have a good night.” He doesn’t make it to the door before you call him back.

“Aaron, I’m sorry about Haley.” You feel stupid. You had a million things to say to him, and you chose to bring up his dead wife. “My husband and daughter died a few years ago.” God, why can’t you stop talking? “I know that it’s not the same, but loss is loss, and it sucks.” (Y/N), please stop talking. “Her name was Haley, too. It wasn’t intentional or anything, but-”

Without warning, he turns around and wraps you in a hug. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry, Aaron. I am so so sorry.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch imagine

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woodchoc-magnum · 2 years

Text

Lone Star Hate Watch 3x04

Sorry for how late this is - I was just delaying the inevitability of having to watch it 😅

Disclaimer: I hate this show, you love it - that's great! Please don't read, keep scrolling, and have a wonderful day

Eddie Diaz, as always, to remind us that the OG exists and is superior in every single way:

I can’t believe I have to sit through another episode of this fucking snow storm

I am slightly mollified because Billy's here

I'm really gonna need Billy to get a redemption arc here

Or do I even want that? I kind of like that he's a little bit villainous

Oh TK's still in a coma and I already know he doesn't die so everything is terrible

Ronen still can't act

"oh wow" TK says in a monotone

"Am I dead?" TK asks in a monotone, but god I wish you were dead

Don't tell him to stop dying - what are you fucking doing? Just let him go

These nurses are… I'm sure this is a pretty accurate portrayal of what nurses are like and you have to be kind of dry and unfeeling, but like, maybe check to make sure you're alone before talking about how TK's definitely going to die

I mean obviously I want him to die, so I'm fine with this entire conversation

You could do better Carlos

Do you think when Rob Lowe gets there he'll remember he has a son or will they have to remind him?

Oh my god Owen's SHAVING HIS DEPRESSION BEARD

Wow what a poignant and moving scene

Judd your wife is currently having a baby in a car in the middle of the snow

Marjan missed everything and instead of just telling her what happened, the show subjects us to Mateo talking in circles

There's going to be a bit of TK-and-Carlos rant in this whole thing so get ready

"I'm holding vigil for a man who doesn't even want me in his life" – Carlos. You could do better. Why are you settling for this piece of shit??

Nancy – "TK loves you." Does he? Really? Is TK capable of human emotions? Because I don't think so

I know people like Nancy but I'm going to be honest and say that I don't, and I find her character entirely forgettable and if she suddenly disappeared from the show I would just simply move on with my life and forget she had ever existed

Also she's a terrible friend. Does Carlos have any other friends? Who could be like, "Hey, you're a total catch, you don't need TK fucking you over like this?" Apparently not

I hate this relationship so much because Carlos deserves better

If I keep eye rolling my eyes are going to gain momentum and never stop

"If he loves me so much, then why did he break my heart?" BECAUSE HE SUCKS

HE FUCKING SUCKS

HE'S THE WORST

AND NO ONE CAN SEE IT

I FEEL LIKE I'M TAKING CRAZY PILLS

Is Tommy going to accept some responsibility for the fact that TK is dying in hospital? They literally didn't do anything to help him is all I'm saying

Oh Owen remembers he has a son, that's amazing

I hate this show

I'm ONLY NINE MINUTES IN YOU GUYS FUCKKKKKKKKKK

Owen sucks, everyone sucks, I hope everyone except Carlos, Judd and Grace die

"my boy to wake up" oh you remember you have a kid? But only when he's dying, right

I mean I love Grace but like I could do without the constant praying

Let me guess, are Carlos and his mom going to do some praying now? Because I can think of one thing we need and that's more praying

Oh Carlos you deserve so much better than TK (Please note - I realise I've said this multiple times through this but it bears repeating)

At least Carlos' mom is on his side because NO ONE ELSE IS

He needs a sassy best friend

Billy's my favourite character and I don't care what anyone says

I'm only fifteen minutes in, I'm going to eat some chocolate

They should not have dragged this shit out for four episodes

"there's something you could've done differently" – yeah like I don't know, trying to warm TK up after he nearly froze to death? Just my two cents

If Billy goes through all this shit and no one fucking thanks him, I'm going to scream

Is he perfect? No. But he's trying

My desktop background is a slideshow of pictures of Buck and Eddie and when I get bored with the show I just watch that for a little pick-me-up

So I'm watching my desktop background a lot, is what I'm saying

Billy's a big DAMN HERO

OH MY GOD BILLY NOOOO HE FAINTED

Judd's figured out that Grace is missing and this is the only thing I care about, but of course we flick right back to TK

Can he just die already?

Cannot BELIEVE TK broke up with Carlos

Carlos deserves so much better than this, I know I keep repeating that but I don't know how anyone can look at this relationship like it's a good thing for anyone but TK

Because at the end of the day this is all about TK, none of this is about Carlos

"Believe people when they tell you who they are" – YES CARLOS????!!! WHY WON'T YOU LISTEN TO YOUR OWN FUCKING ADVICE??????

HE'S SUCH A WHINY LITTLE FUCK I HATE HIM

Okay so let me get this straight. TK fell in love with an apartment, they couldn't rent but it had to buy it, and so as an act of love, Carlos bought him the apartment he fell in love with.

And this was an apartment they both liked – this wasn't Carlos picking a place for them to live, this was something they both loved

And TK breaks up with Carlos because of that.

Wow.

Who the fuck am I meant to feel sorry for here? Like, I am honestly asking how this show wants me to feel about this situation because all I feel is righteous indignation

"It's a total power move" TK says – THE FUCK? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU ASSHOLE? He bought you the place YOU LOVED!!! ARE YOU FOR REAL? YOU FUCKING AAAAAAHHRHRHRHRHRHHRRH

Pausing I need more sugar holy fuck I'm so mad at this FUCKING SHOW

Okay I'm back and trying to think about it in less of a "TK is a narcissistic monster" kind of a way and more in a "how a normal person should react to this" way

And like – they've been together for like, over a year officially on the show, right? Maybe closer to two years? And if you're in a relationship with someone for that long you should have already talked about where this is going and what you both want out of the relationship. Communication, I guess? It seems to be a key component to any happy relationship

So thinking about it like that, should Carlos have asked TK? I guess, maybe – but it was a place they'd looked at together, they both liked it, and so he could make the assumption that if he bought it for TK, that was a gesture for them as a couple, going forward in their relationship, and it shows a level of commitment and love that you think would be somewhat appreciated, right?

Right.

In conclusion, TK is the fucking worst and I hope he gets syphilis and his penis falls off.

I've never hated a character more and I just sat through ten episodes of Che Diaz on And Just Like That

Okay Billy's fine, he's all good, he just fainted, we're fine

I only have fifteen minutes left

Tommy's going to deliver the baby!!!

This is the only storyline I care about

JUDDDDD

God damn it these two fucking kill me

Oh great TK's awake

Way to ruin a perfectly lovely moment in the show

Oh my god Owen just collapsed to his knees in the snow?? What the actual fuck

That baby is six months old

You know, in a movie TK would've died as the baby was born? The circle of life kind of a thing

Really wish they'd done that

Is the OG this heavy-handed? No, right?

Carlos you deserve better than this pile of trash disguised as a human

Oh great they're moving in together

Wow that's love you guys

He deserves fucking none of this

Not a single fucking thing

I hope this house burns down too, with TK in it

"you're the world's biggest control freak" – well you're the world's biggest piece of shit

That baby is a fully grown, six month old baby. It's practically old enough to drive

Their GoFundMe to save the 126 just got fully funded, wow, a fucking miracle! Who didn't see that one coming???

I thought it was finished but no. The rich family saved the 126. How wonderful.

Nice of them to invite my hero Billy to the ceremony

Are Billy and Judd mending fences? I'm really going to need Billy Burke to stay on the show, because he really brightens my day

God I miss the OG so much

In conclusion, I hate this show more than anything. How long until the OG is back?? 😩

Eddie Diaz because WE FUCKING NEED IT RIGHT NOW:

Bonus Christopher! We've earned it, you guys. I'm going to eat some more chocolate.

GREAT JOB TEAM

#lone star hate watch #i'm left feeling angry

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dokifluffs · 4 years

Text

Playing With His Hands | Tendo, Tsukishima, Oikawa

Pairing: Tendo X Reader (gender neutral), Tsukishima X Reader (gender neutral), and Oikawa X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluffs 😤

Author’s Note: My hands are smol also it’s my first time writing for tendou so don’t attack me if it’s bad askjdhaskhd

Suga, Bokuto, Sakusa // Yamaguchi, Akaashi, Ushijima

Tendo:

You couldn’t help but feel bored and on the brink of falling asleep during the lecture, hearing the professor’s monotone voice drone through the lecture hall

You leaned on Tendou’s arm as he listened half heartedly too while the two of you played a game on his laptop knowing the slide show the professor was taking his sweet time going through would be posted later

So the two of you figured to arrange a study date together to go through them and eat some dinner together

You played the air hockey game for the nth time and lost yet again to Tendou

Turning your face into his arm, you let out a yawn that made him smile down at you

The entire hall was as gloomy as outside, if not gloomier since it rained, water cascading down the tall windows

You wished you could wrap yourself up in bed and fall asleep with Tendou beside you

Tired of the game, you let him win, not giving a care

All you wanted was to feel his touch and warmth

Taking him by the hand, you wrapped his arm around your form as you leaned into his chest and brought your knees up and propped them on the edge of the long bench seat each row was in the hall

The two of you leaned back into the wood wall that was a step up to another long row of a table space and bench

“Are you this bored?” He teased with his voice velvety in your ears

“Mmhm,” you nodded, looking up to him as he shook his head, looking to the slideshow so he didn’t completely miss everything

You played with his long fingers, remembering the days you would watch him block volleyballs that were hit by the opposing team

The name the audience called him: the monster blocker but not in a bad way

He was strong. He was never the fearful monster others saw him as as a kid

You never called him a monster even if it was a good thing when Shiratorzawa was cheering him on

He was Tendou Satori and he was never and never will be a monster to anyone

You rubbed the pad of your thumb over the pads of each his fingers, tickling him with your nails as you traced his prints

But of course tendou wanted to have fun too

He purposefully wiggled his fingers and saw how entertained you were like a cat when you tried to catch his fingers in your small hands

Of course it was easy to just grab all fo them but this was the only entertainment the two of you had besides your laptops

Suddenly, the lecture was more interesting if you were to ask him

Also here’s a view of the seats in the lecture hall so it’s not confusing for anyone adksjhahsd

Tsukishima:

The bus was filled with light snores as everyone slept soundly, their bodies drained after playing a five set match

You cheered on the team all you could with everyone else in the audience but alas, Karasuno lost by only a few points behind Aoba Johsai

Everyone played so valiantly, doing the best they could but the opposing team played a bit better

Especially with their captain’s serves being on point today

The sun was beginning to set far off in the distance as Takeda drove

The two of you sat towards the back with no one beside your row and Yamaguchi sitting in the row in front of you two

Tsukishima opted to use his earbuds instead of his usual headphones, sharing a bud with you on the bus

The ride was pretty boring to you

You swapped back and forth going on your phone but it could only entertain you for so long

Sitting still, his hands rested right on his knee

His fingers were wrapped with the medical tape to help him avoid any injuries while playing

You never thought he would actually get serious playing since he honestly thought of it as a club

Naturally, you brought your hand to his, your fingertips touching

You glanced up to see if he woke but he didn’t so you continued. You traced your fingers around the edges of his wrappings

Tracing your fingers down the length of his fingers until he suddenly took his hand in yours

You looked over to meet his golden eyes barely open

He gave your hand a squeeze before he opened his palm up to you, resting it on your leg and resting his head on your shoulder, letting you play with his hand

You held his hand, compared your hand size to his, astonishing at how much bigger his were to yours which made you wonder if they got bigger since the last time you compared?

When you arrived passing by the familiar roads and neighborhoods close to approaching the school, you began to unwrap his tape, rolling it into a perfect ball of tape

But little did you know that he was awake, pretending to be asleep when he rested his head on your shoulder, watching you play with his hands, taking comfort in your loving touches

Though he would never admit it

Oikawa:

The room was filled with darkness, the only light coming from the tv

You laid in Oikawa’s lap as he watched focused on the extraterrestrial documentary

You could practically hear the gears turning and working in his head as he comes up with his own theories on where they are, what the government was hiding from everyone, and so much more

It did interest you but you weren’t as invested as Oikawa

Every now and then, he let out gasps, getting you to turn your attention to the tv

He even played the documentary back if you missed an important part and went off in thorough detail about how crazy it was and how people could believe we were the only life in this entire universe

You loved to see and feel the passion he was emanating from his being whenever he talked about this to you, feeling like the only person who listened to him whenever you two went out on dates to science museums and exhibits

Exactly like how passionate he was about volleyball

You understood his love for the sport he started as a child with his best friend, Iwaizumi

You didn’t blame him for devoting so much time practicing even if it meant him neglecting sleep and his personal health. You didn’t blame him, no, but you made sure he ate well and rested as much as he could on his rest days

He appreciated how much you were able to understand him whereas others couldn’t and eventually left him after not showing enough attention to them

You were quite the opposite for him since you also shared a love for volleyball

It felt like he had the best of the worlds: someone who was on the same level as him, who understood who he was as a person and even helped him grow

Like instinct you polish and talent you bloom, he realized that when he had you beside him, supporting him, he realized you made him bloom too

He rested his hand on your knee but getting a bit tired watching the documentary, you reached for his hand and brought it to you

You played with his hand, essentially massaging his hand but he barely noticed since he was so deep in the documentary

It was fine though since he smothered you in kisses, teasing about how cute you were

He didn’t look over to you when you played with his hand but he felt it and it made his heart flutter

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @osamuonigiri @sammy-i-am @1-800-wholesome @realityisoftendisapointing

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor... - c.1

Summary: Penny Townsend is going to attend her first criminology class. What she didn’t expect was professor Walter Marshall.

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood

A/N: I hope you enjoy this Professor!AU -- can you imagine? Walter Marshall as a professor? 🤤

Masterlist // But professor... masterlist // Next chapter

✎ ✎ ✎

My parents hoped that I would become a doctor. I get it—being friends with a lot of successful parents with equally successful children, must’ve raised their standard for me. They however must’ve known that medicine wasn’t it for me and going to law school isn’t my forte either. It must’ve been hard on them, knowing I wasn’t that intellectually gifted, though they tried their best for me to be.

They did a lot for me. At the ripe age of two to five hours, I was placed at the entrance of a church in Maryland. The pastor and his wife discovered me and brought me to the hospital, only to found out I wasn’t just a couple weeks premature, but also had a lot of heroin in my system.

My birth parents barely gave me a chance the second I was born (probably when I was conceived, but okay) and that is why I am so grateful that my adoptive parents care so much about me.

And that’s why I want to make them proud and studying psychology is my best chance at being the successful daughter they deserve, but man does it feel wrong to be here. I know there is another student out there who deserves to be here, who actually wants to do this, yet here I am taking their place.

Psychology wasn’t the greatest choice already, but having to take criminology was an even bigger mistake. I walk into the lecture hall for the first criminology class. My hands shake because of the nerves, they’re even clammy. I’m not good at making friends, so seeing those cliques that has formed after only two weeks of university, makes me slightly jealous and really alone.

I never really fitted in. My teachers would describe me as a sweet young girl, who is painfully shy.

That, of course, is if they even noticed me at all.

It can be hard to fit in, especially when you feel out of place the second you enter a room, like I have felt since I can remember.

‘Take a seat,’ I hear a deep voice say and I look up, to meet the eyes of the professor. He is unlike all of my other professors. He isn’t in a suit or at least some decent slacks. His denim jeans hugs his thick thighs, as he wears a sweater on top. His curls are disheveled and slightly frizzy and his beard is asymmetrical. A deep frown in between his brows.

‘Me?’ I ask in a soft tone.

He nods. ‘You,’ he confirms.

I walk passed him to choose a seat in the back. I take place and look around me, only to meet the eyes of the professor again. While I wonder what made him choose teaching, since he doesn’t look like someone who was born to teach, I also ponder about the fact he is looking at me again.

Why would he do that?

I grab my laptop and open it, opening a new document. I’ve been going to NYU for two weeks now, yet this is my first criminology class. I run my fingers through my hair, pushing up the glasses on my nose bridge.

‘Okay everyone,’ I hear the professor say, when it’s time for the class to start. ‘There is a sheet going around. Find the spot you’re sitting now and write down your name. If I find out you are messing with me, you have failed your class immediately.’

He is not beating around the bush.

‘I’m detective Walter Marshall. I have worked for the MPD, the Minneapolis Police Department. For this semester there are three subjects we’ll cover. Victimology, crime analysis and the psychology of criminal behavior.’

This is not at all what I want to learn. This is too gore for me. I should’ve stood up to my parents and go to cosmetology school like I originally wanted. It’s better for me anyways.

I’m so stupid.

The paper ends up on my table and I try to find my place on it. I write down ‘Penelope Townsend’ and slide it to the person two tables over. Professor Marshall explains how we have a weekly lecture of two hours and how he is available for questions every Friday, since he’ll be in his office.

‘Does anyone have any questions?’

A guy raises his hand. ‘Why aren’t you working for the MPD anymore, sir?’

Professor Marshall sits on the edge of his desk, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. ‘I was put on leave.’

‘Why?’

‘There were some issues,’ he says. ‘Between me and suspects.’

I have no idea what he is implying, but the silence in the classroom is so thick, that I have a clue what types of issues came with said suspects.

‘Really?’ the guy asks.

The professor only raises his eyebrows, which obviously means he isn’t joking. You don’t need to have studied Psychology to figure that out. ‘Any more questions?

‘Do we work in pairs for the assignment?’ a girl asks.

He shakes his head. ‘No, individual works only.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thank the stars, I don’t want to work with others. Really, I don’t.

‘Okay, if that’s all, let me start right away. What do these women have in common?’ He presses a button on his presenter and the screen behind him changes. Three pictures of women appear on the screen. It’s their driver’s license photo.

‘They’re women,’ a guy says, causing a few to laugh.

Professor Marshall grabs the paper with names and says: ‘Does anyone have something less obvious to comment than mister Fitzgerald?’ He seems not amused at all by the words of Fitzgerald.

‘Brown hair, blue eyes,’ a girl says.

He nods. ‘And?’

‘They’re pretty,’ another girl says.

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ he notes. His eyes scan the paper and he looks up. ‘Miss Townsend, do you have something to add?’

Our eyes meet again and I realize that I’m the only miss Townsend in the class. I clear my throat and look at the pictures. Say something smart, Penny. Say something intelligent. Really intelligent.

The obvious things have already been said, so I should stay away from those things.

I swallow hard, press my glasses better on my nose and say: ‘Their left eyelid is slightly droopy.’

I hear some people chuckle a bit, making me feel everything but intelligent.

‘Quiet,’ professor Marshall says and the chuckles die down instantly. ‘Their droopy left eyelid is what made them appealing to the killer.’ He looks up from the other side of class, right at me. His slightly annoyed gaze dissolves for a few moments into a soft one. ‘Miss Townsend made an excellent point here. It took an entire police department to come to that conclusion over the course of two months.’

Oh my goodness, I made an excellent point.

The slides change and I see another picture. This time it’s of a man. It’s a mugshot. I bet he is the killer.

‘Miss Townsend, since you are on a roll,’ the professor continues and I nearly groan. Really? He wants me to answer another questions? ‘What’s do you notice about this man?’

I scan his entire face. He has a crooked nose, blemishes on his forehead and thin lips. He looks like a killer. This would be the type of man I would avoid if I came across him.

‘His left eyelid is also droopy,’ I say.

Is that a tiny smirk on his lips? ‘Correct.’ While professor Marshall continues to explain about how his own appearance is unknowingly influencing his choice of victims, I can’t help but beam a little with pride. ‘Because,’ he continues, ‘if you understand your victims, you can understand your killer.’ The slideshow changes to one word. ‘Welcome to victimology.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Time spend in a lecture hall while professor Marshall teaches flies by. Though he is a bit grumpy and not very welcoming, he is interesting and smart. Much better than my other teachers. I put everything in my backpack, before I get up from my seat. I’m one of the last students to leave the place, mostly because I don’t want to be swarmed by the cliques.

‘Miss Townsend,’ professor Marshall says, causing me to stop misstep as I already passed him.

I turn around. ‘Yes?’ I ask.

He doesn’t look up from his notes. ‘You did well in class today.’

Is this man giving me a compliment? He might be the first one in a teacher like position to ever notice me, let alone give me a compliment. ‘I did?’

‘Yeah,’ he says, now looking up from his notes. ‘Don’t hesitate to say something in class next time. You have great insight.’

‘Or just luck,’ I say.

Professor Marshall shakes his head. ‘No, this isn’t about luck, this is good insight. So, can you promise me to raise your hand next class?’

I bite my lip, before shaking my head. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘What I said: this was luck and it probably won’t happen again. I have to go. I reserved a spot at the library. If that is all, sir?’

He doesn’t say anything, simply looks at me. It takes a second, maybe two before he nods. ‘If you have questions,’ he says, ‘you know how to contact me.’

I nod, before I walk out of the hall. I see students gathering in front of the door and I quickly slip through them and make my way to the library. I’ve been going to classes for around two weeks now and I’m still up to date as we speak. I decide to at least make a beginning with the assignments of my criminology class, because the sooner I start, the less work and stress I’ll experience later on, because I most definitely will stress about it.

It’s been quite awhile since I opened a book for school for assignments or preparing for exams. After high school, I decided to take a gap year, which ended in two. I’ve traveled with all sorts of groups to different countries, worked at an international cafe in Japan for awhile. It did help me with my social skills. I was happy, social and totally in my element. Those wonderful skills were all forgotten the second I stepped foot back in the USA again.

It was my parents that pushed for going back to college and once they figured out that medicine or law wasn’t up my alley, they agreed psychology, though it wasn’t my thing either.

It’s okay, sure, but… Gosh, I miss the freedom I had during the gap years. I’m not stupid, but is the academical life for me? I have looked at cosmetology school and boy do I wish I was there at the moment.

And not here.

✎ ✎ ✎

I don’t know how long I have been at the library, but my eyes are tired by the time I close my laptop. Besides working on my assignment, I also texted my parents to tell them everything is going fine and checked out multiple cosmetology schools here in the area.

Originally I’m from Maryland, meaning it’s only a three hour drive to see my parents and for them to check in on me. I considered lying about my major, about attending NYU and just go to cosmetology school, but mom and dad are paying my tuition, which is another loophole in my plan.

I put the laptop in my backpack and walk out of the library. Every second my mind wasn’t occupied with university related things, it went straight back to my first criminology class, more specifically my professor. His words. It’s one thing he said those things to me, but another that he looked so handsome while saying it.

‘There she is,’ I hear from behind me as I walk through the hallways to the exit. I turn around to discover it’s Fitzgerald. I forgot his first name, which is weird since we share a lot of the same classes together. He isn’t easy to miss. Pleasant on the eyes, that’s for sure, but he is loud, thinks he is hilarious and that makes him kinda annoying. ‘Miss Townsend,’ he says in a mocking tone.

Okay, change kinda annoying to absolutely insufferable.

‘Hm?’

Fitzgerald walks next to me and he comes a lot closer than I prefer. ‘You’re already the teacher’s pet,’ he continues. ‘Bet the man has a thing for Asian chicks.’

I have no idea how to respond to that implication. My instinct says to get out of here, but the exit is right ahead of me and from the looks of it, Fitzgerald is going there as well. So there is no escape.

‘But let’s say it’s beginners luck,’ he says, ‘because it was actually the first time I heard you speak.’

‘You mind leaving me alone?’ I ask.

‘Why is that, sugar boo?’

Okay, now I’m gonna vomit. Goosebumps run over my spine and the hairs in my neck are standing straight up. I bet this guy’s dad is rich, therefore the only reason he is here. ‘I don’t want you here.’

‘You don’t want me here?’ He starts to chuckle. ‘Sweetheart, everyone wants me here.’

Not me.

‘Fitzgerald, are you deaf?’

It’s professor Marshall.

His eyes enlarge when he realizes that too. ‘No, sir,’ he quickly says.

‘She said she doesn’t want you here.’ He stands in front of the two of us, looking everything but amused. ‘You know, back when I was working, I encountered a lot of guys like you. Did you know they usually peak in high school, do okay in college, but the second they end up locked up in jail—and I promise you, they most often will—they aren’t so tough anymore. They usually end up as someone’s bitch.’

To hear this entire monologue and the word bitch from a professor, was not at all what I was expecting. Fitzgerald’s face is drained from all its color. While Fitzgerald looks like he shat himself, I am utterly amazed. I wish I was this intimidating, I think to myself.

Fitzgerald clears his throat, eyes darting around the hallway, almost as if he is trying to find the closest exit. He shoots out of this place very quickly, meaning I’m left with only our professor.

‘Thank you, sir,’ I say.

Professor Marshall simply nods. ‘You know, if you lowered your shoulders, you’d appear more confident.’

Why do I feel so offended? ‘Oh…’

‘It’s advice, miss Townsend, not criticism.’

‘Oh,’ I say again, this time in a whisper like tone. He could’ve brought it up a bit nicer though. No need to hurt my feelings like that.

Professor Marshall and I both walk towards the exit and I notice it’s raining. Great, guess who didn’t bring her umbrella and also isn’t wearing a jacket with a hood?

Absolutely fantastic.

‘Here,’ the professor says, holding out his umbrella for me.

Is this truly happening? ‘Oh, sir, that’s not necessary.’

‘I insist.’

With some hesitation I grab the umbrella from him and smile. ‘Thank you, professor.’

He politely nods and walks off, leaving me with the umbrella and a little bit confused. Though he looks so handsome and slightly intimidating, he still is nice to me. The only teacher ever. Maybe Fitzgerald is right and—

No, no, no, don’t think like that. It’s not that every man who is nice to me all of the sudden has this fetish. That can’t be it, right?

Maybe, despite my aversion, I am actually good at the whole criminology thing and isn’t it a one time thing. Luck. Maybe I do have something I am good at.

✎ ✎ ✎

That Friday I am still on campus after I spend my entire afternoon in the library. Since I have a question about the criminology assignment, I decide walk to the office of professor Marshall. To kill two birds with one stone, I brought his umbrella with me so I can give it back. I knock on the door and hear a low: ‘Come in.’

I open the door and am met with the professor, who is sitting behind is desk. ‘Sir, I have a question about the assignment.’

He leans back in his chair and gestures me to come in. I close the door behind me and expect to sit, until I notice there isn’t a chair anywhere for me to sit on. How unwelcome of him, I think to myself. Does that mean I have to remain standing?

‘What’s your question, miss Townsend?’

‘I didn’t know which format I had to use for the entire assignment. It’s not really that big of a deal, but I was here in the building and I thought that I could…’ Nice way of getting off track, Penny. As they said in high school musical: ‘Get’cha your head in the game’ and this is not the game. ‘Never mind. Which format should I use?’

‘That’s up to you,’ he says.

That’s it? That’s the answer he is gonna give me?

‘Right,’ I mumble.

‘Other questions, miss Townsend?’

Yes. I let out a deep sigh. ‘The assignment is just harder than I thought,’ I admit. ‘I don’t really understand it.’

Professor Marshall stands up and holds out his hand. ‘Sit, I’ll try to explain it.’

‘In your chair?’

He simply nods and I walk around the desk, to take a seat, while he leans against the windowsill. Oh, the leather is warm… What a body heat does this man produce. ‘Okay, the point of the assignment is to use some of the example files of—staged—murders. Based on the file you choose, you choose a format. You write out the victimology, try to narrate who the killer is, writing down all your findings and there are things I’m gonna talk about in next classes.’

I nod. ‘That makes it easier, thank you, sir.’

‘You’re already working on the assignment?’ he asks. Why does he sound genuinely surprised?

I nod again. ‘I am. I find it easier to work a bit every day, than to cram it all in one day.’ I realize how that sounds. ‘That sounds dorky.’

‘It doesn’t really. It’s a whole lot better than what I did back in the days,’ he says. ‘What did you think of the class?’

Is he asking for my opinion? ‘Your class was very interesting. Slightly morbid though, but fascinating.’

‘Morbid?’ the professor asks. ‘There was nothing morbid about my class.’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘It was kinda scary. With the blood patterns and all. The peek into the murderer’s mind?’ I shiver. ‘Don’t know, felt too personal and too much into the killer’s brain.’

‘The class you’re taking is criminology,’ he says, ‘you should’ve known.’

I shrug, not knowing what to say to him. He is right…

‘Miss Townsend—’

‘Penny,’ I say. ‘It’s Penny. Penelope officially, but people barely call me that.’ People barely call out for me ever, but that’s a different topic. Total different topic.

‘Penny,’ he says, ‘could’ve known.’

I don’t know what he is implying, but I realize I am totally overstaying. ‘I’m sorry, I should go. Thanks for helping me out. Oh, I brought you back your umbrella. I don’t need it anyways.’

Professor Marshall nods. ‘Okay.’

‘I should go. It’s getting kinda dark already.’

‘Let me guess, you don’t do well in the dark.’

I smile almost out of guilt. ‘That obvious?’

For a brief moment I spot a smirk on his face. ‘I’m a detective, I spot these things.’

Okay, not gonna lie, but that’s pretty funny. ‘See you next class, professor,’ I say, standing up from his chair and I walk towards the door.

‘See you next class, Penny.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x penny townsend #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x penny townsend #professor!walter marshall #but professor

218 notes · View notes

noteguk · 3 years

Note

Taehyung fingering u while ur in zoom class,,,,this came to me as i spaced out in class

— contents and warnings: small praising kink, fingering, boyfriend!taehyung, pwp

— words; 1.6k

Thank you for your request, baby!!

You were quick to check if your microphone was still off when your boyfriend walked into the bedroom.

“I’m in class,” you mumbled, your voice a bit more bitter than you’d like. You were sprawled on the bed with your laptop heated and resting against your stomach, the screen lowered so you could pretend to pay attention to whatever it was that your professor was saying. You were in class, yes, but it certainly didn’t look like it.

Taehyung laughed at your position, and started walking towards the other side of the bed. “That explains your delightful mood.”

You hummed, eyes still stuck to the small squares on your screen. Every once in a while, you sat up on the bed and turned your camera back on (since your professor almost popped a vein every time he saw that someone had turned it off) but, for the time being, he was too focused on his explanation to care about that. You were off the hook for maybe twenty more minutes, and no one had to see your zombified face for now.

Your sleeping schedule had been absolute chaos since the beginning of the pandemic and the responsibility of an early class wouldn’t make a difference at that point — so, that night, you went to sleep at four knowing fully well that you’d have to be up at seven, and it worked just as well as anyone with a half functioning brain cell would expect. You were awake, but only physically.

The voice of your professor was a monotone, flat and repetitive melody to your ears. Absent-minded, your eyes darted from the screen and towards your boyfriend when Taehyung threw himself on the bed next to you. With interest, he placed his head on your shoulder and looked at the screen, trying to piece together the information on the slideshow.

“This looks really boring,” he commented, fumbling close to you. If your camera had been on, everyone else would think you were in an earthquake, from how much the bed was shaking under his movements. He turned to you. “And you look really annoyed.”

You sneered. “I’m glad it’s obvious. Too much emotional energy is wasted in these calls,” you complained. You did not know how your colleges managed to keep such neutral faces during online classes, it seemed like it took everything in you to look remotely pleasant and fight against your resting bitch face. “I’ll be free in twenty minutes, then I’ll help you with lunch.”

“I was thinking that maybe today we could order something,” Taehyung said, his hand finding its place on your hip bone. A bit of sleep left your body at the contact, his warmth radiating through your thin sweatshorts. “From that restaurant you like from down the street.”

Your mouth salivated at the thought. “That’d be wonderful, actually.”

He hummed, burying his face on your neck. His hot breath sent shivers up and down your skin, his voice vibrating against your flesh as he spoke. “I don’t like when you’re down,” he told you. “I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

It took everything in you not to moan at the feeling. Taehyung knew very well how much your neck was sensitive, and the little demon was doing it on purpose. “I appreciate it,” you managed to say, even if your voice wasn’t as firm as you’d like.

“There’s other ways that I could try and make you feel better.” His hand slithered closer to your center, and stopped right underneath your belly button. With your computer placed in front of you, you could only feel as he made his way down, brushing against the thick fabric of your shorts. “If you want, of course.”

Another glimpse to check if the camera and the microphone were off and you already had your answer. “I’d love that.”

With a wicked smirk, Taehyung shuffled closer so he could place kisses on your neck — hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses that made your legs weak. You bit your lip as his hand moved underneath the hem of your pants, placing itself between your shorts and your underwear.

A wave of heat ran through your body when his middle finger pressed down against your clit and started to trace small circles on it, faint motions that made your head spin. The fabric numbed the sensation a bit, but it was enough to make the first shocks of pleasure and anticipation appear.

“Don’t tease,” you asked, already a bit breathless.

You were a bit embarrassed to say it out loud — even though you were sure that your boyfriend already knew it — but you were already wet just by having his mouth on your neck, reddening your skin with every tender suck. He didn’t need much effort down there.

You made a mental note to cover your neck with your hair if you had to turn the camera back on.

Taehyung chuckled, his breath coming out hot against your neck. “Baby, I already am. Sorry.” His finger worked at a turtle pace, pressing down just right to make your hips buckle up, fighting for more contact. “Do you want me to keep going?”

You swallowed hard. “Yes, please.”

Since Taehyung wasn’t planning to make you even more irritated with his prolonged provocations, he was merciful and pulled your panties to the side, his digits traveling downwards. He moaned in delight when his index found your entrance, soaking him with your juices.

“Such a good girl, always so wet for me,” he praised, his voice deep and velvety. It was driving you crazy. “Pay attention to class while I finger you, baby.”

You had almost forgotten you even were in a zoom class and, when Taehyung sunk two of his fingers inside you, you forgot about it all over again. Overwhelmed, your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his long, slender feelings spreading you open, digging inside you and curving just at the right spot that made you see stars. Taehyung had done that enough times to know where your body reacted the most, where he had to touch and press to have you a whining mess beneath him.

A hoarse grunt vibrated in his throat as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you, imagining how it would feel to have you clenching around his cock instead. But that morning wasn’t about him, and Taehyung was patient enough to wait until after lunch to have you bent over and crying to be fucked. That morning, he only wanted to make you cum.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, merciless with his movements. His hands were so big that his thumb didn’t have any problem finding your clit, putting some pressure on it as he continued to finger your pussy.

You whimpered and moaned, rolling your hips against his hand in a faithless prayer for more. At his question, you only found the force within you to desperately nod.

“You’re so pretty… and you feel so good, baby…” he mumbled to himself, his eyes closing at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. Inside his pants, his cock was hard and aching to be surrounded by your wetness; throbbing and leaking. “You’re such a good girl. Such a pretty little thing.”

“Taehyung,” you called his name and, for a moment, you didn’t know what you wanted to say. The pressure on your lower back was building up at every new thrust of his fingers inside you, and the sounds of your wetness erased your thoughts for a second. “I’m so close.”

“Wanna cum around my fingers, baby?” Taehyung’s voice was hoarse, vibrating against your skin as his mouth relentlessly marked your neck. Your class had long been forgotten, and you couldn’t even open your eyes and look at the screen. Not that you wanted to. You wanted to succumb to him. “Uh? Want to make a pretty mess on my fingers for me?”

You gasped at his words, your thighs already shaking with your upcoming release. His fingers were so big, they felt so good inside you that you could barely think straight. “Yes, please, Taehyung.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, adding a bit more pressure against your clit. The movement made your hips perk up, and your computer almost fell from your chest. “Let it go, baby. Relax. I got you.”

And you did as he said. You came around his fingers as your hand flew to your mouth, muffling your blissful cries as your pussy clenched around him, lower body buckling up and rolling against his final pumps in an attempt to prolong your pleasure. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, his cock throbbing at the feeling of you soaking his fingers, and he waited for your breaths to settle before he spoke up.

“Better?” He asked, placing a final pec against the skin of your neck, which now blossomed in purples and reds after his attack.

Your eyes opened lazily and for a second you didn’t find your voice. “So much better. That was great.”

Taehyung leaned in and placed a soft kiss against your lips. “I like to see my girl happy,” he said tenderly. His hand slithered out of your underwear, making you feel awfully empty, and he sat up in bed. “Now, you enjoy those final minutes of your class. I’m gonna get us some food.”

“Thanks, baby,” you said, like you would ever be able to think about any subject after that. “You know my order, right?”

He rolled out of the bed with a swift movement. “Yes, Miss.” Taehyung pointed at your computer. “Now, pay attention. Your tuition isn’t cheap.”

You giggled, and your eyes followed him as he left the bedroom.

When Taehyung arrived at the corridor, he looked down at the tent in his pants and realized he might need to make a quick stop in the bathroom before he could even think about ordering food.

#Taehyung #bts smut #Taehyung smut #Taehyung x you #Taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #smut #reader insert #Kim Taehyung #bts #x reader #x you #pwp #Taehyung pwp #bts pwp

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reidisreading · 3 years

Text

Sleep Deprivation - Spencer Reid x Reader

Writing Prompt: Spencer Reid is so sleep deprived he doesn’t notice his actions and accidentally crosses a line with reader. Reader ends up being abducted by unsub and Spencer has to make a choice towards his feelings to reader.

POV: Third Person POV but following certain characters.

Spencer Reid with they/them Reader

Type: angst with fluff at the end

warnings / trigger warnings: abduction, mentions of killing, subtle mentions of some sort of mental illness, reader gets hurt physically (punching, etc.), mild cursing.

*author note* Hi, this is my first story and I just wanted to get it out of my google drive page. I didn’t proofread this at all so there’s probably plenty of mistakes (if there is just tell me). I promise future stories will be a lot better than this.

*word count: 4,100*

To the outside world, Spencer Reid was the perfect person in control of all aspects of his life.

The problem with Spencer Reid was that he was too smart and active for his own safety. He struggled with sleep deprivation among other things that made it hard for him to keep track of himself. At this exact moment he was struggling with holding six hours of sleep in the last three days. He knows the dangers, he sees statistics, but when he closes his eyes all he can do is see Y/N in danger like in their last case and he can’t go through that. Not again, not when he was the one that found them all bloodied and almost unconscious. This was Spencer’s third cup of coffee in just that morning and the clock hadn’t turned to seven thirty, yet. He finished the last sip and rushed out the door to head to the subway, his hatred for driving now a good thing with his exhaustion getting in the way. A buzzing came from his satchel as he got on his seat, the subway less full than usual. SSA Hotchner Calling

“Good morning.” Reid’s husky voice shone through the speaker.

“Good morning, Reid, we have a new case in California, how far away are you?” Hotch said anxiously.

“Twenty five minutes away, including the walk.” Reid says confidently.

“Okay, head straight to the bullpen on your way in. We have no time to waste.” Hotch says before hanging up the phone. Reid finished reading the book he started that same morning and moved on to the second book he had stashed in his bag on his way out.

“Platform-.” He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he got off the cart and walked towards his job. The smell of the station made his nose hurt as he remembered previous cases of ill intent people doing foul things to their surroundings.

Get it together, Reid. You can’t walk in there distracted, they’ll know something is wrong. You can’t have Penelope and JJ worried all over you. You especially can’t have Y/N worried for you, you need to keep your head leveled around them.

It was probably easy to guess that their last case had taken the hardest toll on Spencer. His feelings for Y/N making it difficult to concentrate when the unsub had taken them as a means to keep the FBI scared. Spencer had spent most of his time away in a small office hunched over papers and profiles trying to get them back.

“Good morning, Doctor Reid.” The receptionist greeted the young doctor.

“Good morning!” Spencer said in a matched tone. He walked to the elevator, hitting the familiar key without looking at it at all.

Okay, you need to wake up and be alert. No dozing off like you’ve been doing today. You have a job to do, people are counting on you. Spencer repeated the same words to himself like a mantra until he saw the clear doors to the BAU main office.

Penelope Garcia POV

We have a tablet for Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Emily, of course, Chocolate Thunder, and using paper we have Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N. They would be so cute together, those two. I know I could find a way for Hotch to let them be together if only they would admit their feelings for each other, this is ridiculous. It’s very obvious to everyone but those two that they’re the perfect match made. Ironic how the two smartest people to enter this building are too oblivious to notice this. If I had a nickel for every time-

“How we looking, Baby Girl?” Morgan interrupted Garcia from her ramble.

“Like I’d rather be watching something where someone doesn’t die.” She answered annoyed.

“Don’t we all?” He shook his head as he took his tablet, scanning some of the images, the flash of hurt running through his facial features like a marathon.

“Okay, we’re just waiting for Reid but he should be here any second.” Hotch says stressed while sitting down. The rest of the team, sans Reid, pile into the room taking their respective seats. Everyone opens their files on their tablets while Y/N scans through their paper folder.

“Where is Pretty Boy?” Morgan asked looking directly at Y/N as if they would know anything; thankfully Y/N was too focused on the case in front of them to pay any attention.

“Stop it.” Garcia whispered to him. Morgan looked at her and laughed while shaking his head.

It’s safe to say that the entire team knew that those two were crushing on each other, they had that energy about them.

Garcia got up from her seat, ready to direct the team along JJ on their latest case when the Boy Genius walked into the room in a hurry, his satchel already in his hands ready to be removed from his body.

“I’m sorry, there was a minor mishap and- not important, sorry.” He said while moving towards his seat which was conveniently next to Y/N’s. He stopped next to them, giving them a light kiss on the head before moving to his seat, the small action causing everyone in the room to fall into a heavy silence. He didn’t seem to notice this small movement as he continued on with his regular routine of taking everything off to focus on the file in front of him. “What’s going on in California?” He asked looking up at Garcia, only to notice her stunned expression. “What?” He asked looking at the rest of the team, noticing their silence and awkward glances at each other. The only one not looking at anyone in particular was Y/N.

“Nothing.” Garcia said while turning around to look at the slide show.

“Family in California was brutally murdered in their home. Father was moved away from them, from the shows of it, it seems to have been postmortem.” Garcia says while looking at JJ frantically.

“Two children were left in the closet- I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Reid, what was that?” Hotch asked while he asked JJ to pause the slideshow and turned to look at one of the two younger members of the team.

“Hotch, no.” Garcia whispered. He’s going to ruin everything! No! We FINALLY have something that officially indicates one of them feels something.

“I-I don’t understand?” Reid says confused.

“Pretty Boy coming out of his shell.” Morgan chuckles.

“What?” Reid asks, still confused.

“You just kissed Y/N.” Emily says sliding closer to him.

“I did what?” Reid asked with a raised tone.

“Reid, what’s going on?” Rossi asks.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Reid said genuinely concerned.

“You look tired.” Emily said, “well, I mean, more than usual.” She says worried.

“I mean, I haven’t really slept but it’s not that bad.”

“How much is ‘not that bad’?” Hotch asks.

“Six.” Reid whispered.

“Six hours daily?” Hotch presses.

“The last three days.” Reid finishes.

“Reid, no.” Emily says sadly.

“Can we get back to the case?” Reid asks, the entire room shifting energy. Y/N staying quiet as possible. It didn’t slip anyone’s notice that Y/N didn’t try to move from Reid, it was almost like they were shifting closer to him.

“Okay, uhm, two children were left in the closet, their hands tied behind their back and their mouths covered with electrical tape. It seems like most of the extra things the unsub did were postmortem because the children were tied and silenced after this unsub killed them.” Garcia said.

“The mom seems to have had the most anger targeted. She had leisure wounds around her neck and wrists, but that’s not what killed her. She was drowned in the bathtub, and it seems he may have stabbed her multiple times postmortem, too.” Y/N says as they go through their own file.

“Maybe they had a bad relationship with a maternal figure and they’re looking for ways to get back at her.” Rossi says.

“Any reason why the unsub may have targeted this family?” Hotch asks.

“None that I’ve found yet, sir.” Garcia answers.

“Okay, wheels up in thirty. Reid, I need to talk to you privately.” Hotch says as he dismisses the team.

Arron Hotchner I will have a word with you.

Spencer Reid POV

“I need you to stay at the base for this one.” Hotch says automatically.

“What? No, I can’t.” Reid replies.

“Yes. What happened there is only a glimpse of what can happen in the future, Reid. I cannot take the risk with the rest of the team. You stay here, work the case, and rest up. Sleep deprivation can cause memory loss and you’re already seeing the side effect. I can’t put you or others in danger.”

“Hotch, please.” Reid whispers.

“Y/N will be okay, I promise Reid.” Hotch said sternly.

“That’s not-.” Reid cut himself short.

“Your job now is to stay here and look at everything we can’t. Come up with theories. I have to go.” Hotch starts to walk away, “and I want you to get home at a reasonable time to sleep. I need you in future cases.” He finishes, walking towards the last of his paperwork and walks out of the room. Reid looks around the room and spots Penelope at the door, trying (and failing) to look inconspicuous.

“Let’s go Pen.” Reid calls out to her and picks up his own file.

“Reid, I don’t think Y/N-.”

“Pen, please.” Reid stops mid track, “I’m not allowed to go and I’m already exhausted as it is. Please, let’s just focus on this.” He says to her as he turns around and comes face to face with Y/N. “Hi.” He whispers.

“Hi.”

“Are you- is everything okay?” He hushes.

“Yeah, I just came to say bye to you both. We’re on our way out.” Y/N replies looking at Reid like a fragile doll, if they moved too fast, he may break.

“Be safe.” He says, almost so quiet they miss it.

“Always am.” Y/N replied with a smile, “see you, Pen.” They waved at each other before Y/N finally walked away from them.

“Oh you’re smitten to the T.” Penelope teased.

“Penelope Garcia, there’s a room we need to get to and have no time to talk nonsense.” Reid said frustrated.

“Oh, we can most definitely talk while we’re in there mister Doctor Genius.” She giggled walking away from him.

“No, Penelope.” He says in a rushed tone as he jogs behind her.

————————

“Hello my furry friends, what can I do ya for?” Penelope asked in an enthusiastic tone.

“I need you to give me any and all financial statements about this family. Down to what they spent money on leisurely.” Hotch said not bothering to comment on her strange wording.

“Anything I should be looking for?” She asked.

“Yes, anything that may have been spent on from time to time. No cycle, something that if anyone looking wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow.” Emily pipes in.

“Reid?” Y/N called out, Reid’s cheeks automatically turning a bright red, he’s ears matching.

“Yeah?” He asked in a high pitched tone before clearing his throat, calling out to them again, “how can I help?” He asked.

“I found some letters and cards and they look like different people wrote them but I need you to read in between the lines and assign who wrote which letter.” Y/N said picking up the different notes and holding them to the camera, “I’m going to have JJ scan these and send them to Pen, if she could please do the rest so I can have a detailed explanation of the potential unsub.” They finished explaining.

“Yeah, I’ll have them finished for you as soon as I can.” Reid said confidently.

“Thanks Spence.” The team said their goodbyes.

“Oh you’ve got it bad, Lover Boy.” Penelope said through giggles.

“I don’t know what that means.” Reid said uncomfortably.

“That Y/N called you ‘Spence’ and you just about melted.” She teased.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh come on! When are you going to just get it over with and ask them out?” Penelope asked in a serious tone.

“Never, they don’t like me and I probably made them uncomfortable today with something I don’t even remember doing.” He fiddled with his pencil.

“Have you asked them?”

“No.”

“Then, you don’t know.” Penelope finished turning back to her computers seeing the files JJ sent, “Come on Boy Genius, your future significant other has work for you.” She said excitedly.

—————————

“Reid, another family was murdered twenty minutes ago, do you have anything that could lead us?” Hotch stressed.

“Yes, it seems all these families have in common is their religious beliefs and where they do grocery shopping.” He said going through his own paperwork.

“Those are two completely different things.” Emily said.

“No, because all three families come from the same neighborhood, down to the same economic standard. That means they all went to the same place of prayer and they all shop from the same places. It goes down to us having already interviewed the unsub.” Y/N says, paper shuffling is heard by Garcia and Reid as Y/N moves around the room with the rest of the team.

“They’re right. We concluded that the unsub is a white male in their mid twenties who comes from a household deprived of a mother figure or a divorce household. From the way the murders are being done, it shows they have a previous criminal record with small crimes, maybe petty theft or something big like sexual assault.” Reid goes on.

“In that case, we have only interviewed twenty people. Garcia, can you narrow down the list?” Hotch asked.

“You must be new here.” She says with an eye roll.

“Keep us updated.” Emily smiles.

“Stay safe.” Reid says, everyone knowing he’s truly directing it to one person, “all of you, stay safe.” He covers up before hanging up.

Jennifer Jareau’s POV

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ had wanted to speak with Y/N since they got out of the bullpen but for one reason or the other never got the chance.

“Hey, JJ.” Y/N smiled at the blonde.

“I know what Spencer did today was out of norm. Are you okay?” She asked. JJ knew neither of the Doctors were big on being touched unless they initiated it.

“I’m okay.” The young Doctor assured her.

“Can I ask you something?” JJ started, “I’m probably way out of line and you don’t have to answer but…” She started off testing the water, she kept an eye on Y/N making sure they weren’t uncomfortable at any moment, “do you like Spencer?” JJ finished.

The words coming out of their mouth wasn’t what gave them away, it was the way their cheeks and neck flared up in red pigmentation as their hands dropped the small cup of coffee they were holding, which had thankfully been empty.

“What? No, that’s- JJ, I do not like anyone.” Y/N stammered and failed to control their movements.

“Oh, I’m so glad to have asked you instead of Penelope.” JJ started laughing.

“I do not like… JJ it is wrong to make assumptions of others. It’s- JJ, no.” Y/N continued.

“Babe, it’s okay. Everyone and their mom’s can see that you and Spencer have a thing. For being the two smartest people I know… you’re both very daft.” JJ said sweetly.

“I actually don’t think he likes me, JJ. I noticed that his behavior towards me changed into a more protective one after we finished the case. I think he’s guilty because he was meant to stay with me and we got separated.” Y/N said sadly.

“You cannot possibly be serious.” JJ questioned.

“I am.” Y/N retorted.

“That man is in love with you.”

“No.” Y/N said as they picked up the empty cup they’d previously dropped. “Anyway, we need to finish this before anyone else dies.”

“Y/N…”

“Hotch is waiting.” Y/N left the small room.

When JJ walked outside, the rest of the team was doing a video call with Garcia and Reid. Y/N was busy looking through a stack of papers while Garcia gave more information about the possible unsub.

“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke up once Garcia finished.

“I’m here.” Y/N left the stack of papers next to them as they paid close attention to Reid.

Reid cleared his throat twice before he started detailing the information he’d found, “it seems like three people wrote those letters. It wasn’t easy to figure out because the same person switched through hand writings quite easily. So, unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t have seen it.” Reid finished while holding up the letters now filled with side notes.

“Thanks, Spence.” Y/N smiled at him before picking up the stacks, “that actually narrows down the unsub to four different people.” They picked up a folder one by one and handed it off to others.

“Garcia, tell us anything on Tony Carter.” Hotch asks.

While Garcia was telling them all the smallest details she could find to Tony Carter, Spencer and Y/N both went over the notes again.

“It’s Jared Tall.” They said in unison.

“Babies, you can’t just bring out the genius in the middle of my genius.” Garcia said annoyed.

“How do you know?” Hotch asks the both of them.

“The notes.” Spencer said like it was obvious.

“It did catch me off guard how this one was written, but it says Jared Tall.” Y/N said like it was no big deal as they pointed at the small details that brought out the name Jared Tall.

Y/N’s POV

“Hotch, I’m by the south exit. There’s fresh tracks. I think he’s here.” Y/N told their supervisor.

“Don’t go in without backup. He’s incredibly dangerous and will take out anyone in his place.” Hotch directed.

“Copy.” Y/N finished replying when they felt a sharp pain come across their temple making them crash against the ground. The cold surrounded them as did darkness.

Morgan’s POV

“Morgan, I need you to go to the south exit with Y/L/N. They said there’s fresh tracks and that’s dangerous.” Hotch directed. Morgan didn’t answer and just moved to the exit his supervisor had appointed him to.

“Hotch, Y/L/N isn’t here.” Morgan said through the radio.

“What?” Hotch asked. Derek didn’t need the radio to hear his directions towards the rest of the team.

“Their radio is here, Hotch.” Morgan turned around to face him.

“They couldn’t have gone too far. I gave them directions two minutes ago.” Hotch said while looking around. He turned his radio on and directed everyone to meet at the front of the abandoned cabin. “I need everyone in a group of three. Dogs need to go with you. Y/L/N has intensive knowledge on how to get out of hostage situations but there’s blood on the floor and they may be unconscious now. There’s a likelihood that the unsub took Y/L/N to the same location he has the rest of his victims, if that’s the case he’ll have two children. You need to be extremely careful and vigilant. We have until sundown.” Hotch dismissed everyone Morgan staying behind with him as Hotch called Garcia.

“Genie in a lap. You have three wishes.” Garcia said in her usual chirpy voice.

“Is Reid with you?” Hotch asked.

“No. He went out to get us lunch.” Garcia said as the blood ran cold through her veins, “sir, please don’t tell me that I have to tell Boy Wonder that the person he’s in love with and he doesn’t even realize loves him back, has been kidnapped again.”

“Y/L/N what?” Hotch and Morgan could hear Reid from the other end of the line.

“He knows.” Garcia whispered on the line.

“Reid, I’ve got every agent and officer looking for them. They’ll be okay.” Hotch promised.

“I’ve heard that before.” Reid said darkly.

“I’ll call with any updates.” Hotch hung up.

Y/N POV

I’ve got a concussion for sure. Okay, and one broken rib. I can’t open my eyes or move, definitely blindfolded and hands are tied. Probably underground. By the voices near me there’s two children here as well.

“The fucking FBI. Fuck.” There was pacing around the room. Only one set of feet were moving around. “If you scream, I kill them.” The unsub said. Not knowing what to do, Y/L/N just nodded. “This wouldn’t have happened if that bitch had just ran away with me.” He continues.

“Who, Jared?” Y/N asked calmly.

“Patty!” Jared shouted. “She had to stay with her stupid perfect family. What about me?” He kept shouting uncontrollably.

“This isn’t your fault Jared. She didn’t deserve you.”

“You’re right. She had to pay.” Jared kept pacing.

“Jared, I need you to do me a favour.” Y/N approached. “You need to let the children go. They’re innocent in all of this, just as much as you are.” The added in the end.

“They’re right, Jared. The children are innocent.” Y/N heard Morgan say evenly. “They’re just as innocent as you. They’d never hurt anyone, just like you.” Morgan approached. Y/L/N could now hear him walking near them. Something must have happened in the ten seconds that there was complete silence, because all Y/N heard after that were three gunshots and suddenly they were being untied. “It’s Morgan, you’re okay, Y/N.” Morgan whispers to them.

“The children.” Y/N whispers.

“JJ’s got them.” Morgan replies.

“I’ve got a broken rib.” Y/N tells him.

“Anything else?” Morgan asks as he lifts them from the entrance.

“Nothing I can feel as of now.” They reply surely, “Morgan, Reid is-.”

“He knows you were taken. He’s not happy at the moment.” Morgan replies.

“Where’s Hotch?”

“We found another child near here and he’s been assisting on that.”

“This wasn’t his fault. None of us could have known.” They tell Morgan.

“Tell that to your lover boy. He’s pissed.” Morgan laughs as he sets them on the bed of the ambulance.

“He’s not my-.” Y/N starts saying before getting interrupted.

“He’s in love with you. That makes him Lover Boy.”

Morgan teases.

“I cannot wait for you to no longer be single.” Y/N teases him.

“Right back at ya, Pretty Face.” Morgan flicks his finger against their chin and walks away; allowing the first responder to assess their wounds.

Y/N had to get checked at the local hospital, the rib that had fractured was making it painful for them to breathe and couldn’t wait to get checked in Quantico.

To say the ride back was long and uncomfortable was an understatement. They’d spend two extra days in California and that was two days too long.

“You get to see your mans today.” Morgan teased.

“Hotch, Morgan is being annoying.” Y/N said loudly.

“Did you just tattle on me?” Morgan asked in mocked surprise.

“And I’ll do it again.” Y/N said confidently.

“Behave or I’ll ground you both.” JJ said sternly. Once the jet landed, all their teasing suddenly vanished. Garcia and Spencer were waiting for them at the entrance of the BAU floor. No one said anything as they all hugged each other, Y/N keeping their distance from the team as Spencer gave the rest of the team a small half hug trying not to be rude as his family came in contact with his arms. The all unsubtly excused themselves, giving Spencer and Y/N some privacy.

Something changed inside Spencer when he found out that Y/N had been abducted. Something shifted, it was like he finally understood he could no longer pretend and show a façade every time he was around them.

Gravity was working differently now, or maybe it was their legs, neither of them were sure which it was. They crossed the small space between them as Y/N crashed against Spencer’s arms; the world just that much lighter now that neither of them were holding anything in. Spencer held them so tightly he was sure he was going to turn them into dust.

“Wait, your rib-.” Spencer started.

“Shh.” Y/N pulled away further from him as they grabbed him by his sweater vest and their lips finally met.

There was cheering in the near distance but they both pretended they didn’t know what was going on behind them.

Spencer pulled away for a second causing Y/N to give him a slight pout, “go on a date with me?” Spencer finally asked.

“Only if you go back to kissing me.” Y/N replied, Spencer attaching their lips together before Y/N could even finish the sentence.

#reidisreading #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds spencer #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction

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