sagesworlddd

[sagesworlddd]

⌇ summer dividers

[sagesworlddd]

ALL THINGS TAYLOR SWIFT

fav album: evermore

fav songs atm: guilty as sin? - ttpd, my boy only breaks his favourite toys - ttpd, i look in peoples windows - ttpd

fav era: midnights

fav songs: false god - lover, ‘tis the damn season - evermore, dear reader - midnights

pinterest

[sagesworlddd]

All’s fair in love and poetry… New album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. Out April 19 🤍

store.taylorswift.com

📷: Beth Garrabrant

[sagesworlddd]

Unpretty

You are insecure and Peter is oblivious. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: reader had very negative thoughts about body image. mentions of weight and general body image issues. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible so everybody could read and relate, so it can be read as plus!size reader or not.

1.5k words

The position you were in wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. The physical part felt really nice, actually. Peter was laid on his side, nose nuzzled into your hair while you were in his arms flat on your back. His even breathing was soothing and you felt close and warm. 

Emotionally, however, you felt confused. 

You had to resist cringing every time you remembered that Peter’s large hand was spread over the bottom of your tummy, likely feeling everything “wrong” about it. He could definitely feel it wasn’t as flat or firm as you would like it to be, even through your thick crewneck. And even though you logically knew it was impossible, you felt the stinging insecurity all over your body, like he was touching you everywhere you hated. Your brain was telling you that through feeling the soft part of your stomach, he could also feel and see where your thighs were too big, where stretchmarks were painted all over your body, and where your skin wasn’t completely smooth. 

He probably would hate my body as much as I do if he could see. The little voice in your head nagged. 

Obviously, you knew that wasn’t true. You knew that everyone had little things that bothered them and yours weren’t even especially unusual. You also knew that voicing these thoughts to Peter would likely lead to you being even more self-conscious and him being confused. Or even worse, him pitying you. You were snapped out of your spiral by Peter’s shifting in position. 

“What’re you thinking of, baby?” Peter whispered. To your horror, his hand started rubbing your stomach over your sweater. “I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” He laughed the way he does when trying to calm you down, like he doesn’t think it’s funny but it might be less intimidating if you believe he does. You turned your head to look at him. Being this close didn’t allow you to see his full face, but you could see one of his pretty brown eyes, looking at you with far too much love for your heart to handle.

“Not thinking of anythin’ really.” You kept your voice as even as possible and hoped he didn’t hear the nervous hitch in your breath as he reached under the hem of your sweatshirt to touch your skin. You panicked and tried to cover by grabbing his hand in yours and holding it between your ribs, right under your chest. He looked confused but still stroked your hand with his thumb.

“Yeah okay.” He was sarcastic and rolling his eyes but his voice was still light. He brought your joined hands up to kiss the veins on your wrist, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger for a good few seconds. All while still burning his eyes over your face, letting his pupils linger over a feature before jumping to the next, admiring your whole face with so much care you would cry. 

“What?” You asked, growing shy under his intense stare. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He was still smiling at you like a fool. “So so pretty.” He sing-songed. He urged you to lay on top of him with his arms, but you held fast in your place. Your boyfriend apparently took this as a challenge, because he showed off his real strength by pulling you fast onto his chest. 

“Peter!” You said, scolding and nervous and flustered all at once. 

“What?” He asked smugly, with a look of triumph on his face. You ducked your head out of his eyesight. “Baby, what’s up?” He asked again, more sincere. You still didn’t answer, your anxiety was roaring too loud in your head. You were probably crushing him under your weight. His hands were planted on your hips, likely feeling the extra fat and getting grossed out. He was just too nice to say anything. He was also too far close to your face for comfort, definitely seeing patches of oily skin or blemishes littering your face. It all became too much for you and you tried to roll off of him, but he gripped onto you harder. 

“Peter, let me off.” You kept your voice light but you were panicking inside. 

“Yeah, not happening.” He stayed stubborn as a mule. 

“But I’m heavy, I’ll crush you.” You said desperately. 

“Good.” He rebutted, still acting as if this was a casual conversation. 

“Peter, I’m serious. I’m too heavy for this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Your voice trailed off, getting quieter towards the end. The whole sentence was soaked in shame that Peter hadn’t yet picked up on. Now, there was a concerned crease between his eyebrows. 

“Huh?” He looked genuinely confused. “What put that dumb idea in your head? ‘Too heavy’ for what, exactly?” He started as if he was about to rant, but cut it short. To your dismay, he pulled more of your weight onto him. 

“It’s not dumb, it’s true. I’m just too heavy” You argued back. He couldn’t really be that oblivious. Anyone with eyes could see it. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” He started sassing, like he actually wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t know that you now were the only deciding judge of something being ‘too much.’” He was being defiant on purpose. 

“Peter, please.” All joking and argumentativeness had left your tone, just leaving shame and sadness. Peter softened at this and encouraged your head up to meet his eyes, holding your jaw firmly so you couldn’t look away. He looked like he was slowly putting pieces together in his head. 

“Baby,” He started, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Is this why you’ve not been letting me touch you as much?” Peter looked so sad, it didn’t suit him at all and you wanted to make it better immediately. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you, that I would think there’s something wrong with you?” On the last sentence he was extra distressed, like he couldn’t believe the words were leaving his mouth. 

“I just-” You were trying to articulate your feelings without making this any worse. “I mean, not every part of me is pretty, you know that.” You tried to say it casually but Peter’s expression didn’t lighten at all. Instead, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes got wider, looking like a cartoonishly sad puppy who was denied a treat. 

“I don’t know that, actually.” He moved his hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” He said the last part like his heart was cracking. And in Peter’s mind, it was. His baby was thinking badly of herself, and even worse, she was thinking he thought badly of her. 

“I mean,” You cringed as the words left your mouth, wanting desperately for the conversation to end. “Not really. At least, there is a lot about me that could be a lot better.” Peter was at a loss for words. You had obviously mulled this over and were solid in your opinion. 

“I don’t think there is. I think you are perfect. I love everything about you.” He said softly, his voice missing its usual teasing tone.

“But-” You started, but cut yourself off. 

“But what?” Your argumentative boyfriend was back. “C’mon. Talk to me, baby.”

“I just-” You gathered your thoughts as best you could. He was really being difficult. There was no way he hadn’t noticed something. You also really did not want to say your insecurities out loud. It was too raw. But you knew Peter, and he wouldn’t back off without you giving something. “My stomach isn’t flat.” You said, as if that was enough argument for you being disgusting. 

“Okay?” He actually laughed at this, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “And?” 

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “And, in general I’m just too big. And my skin isn’t good either. It just doesn’t all add up very well does it?” You resisted the urge to cry, you didn’t want to add that on top of this already stressful discussion. 

“Sweetheart,” He looked exasperated. “I think- I think you’re being really mean and unfair to yourself.” He searched for the right words. “Everyone has things about themselves they don’t like, yeah? But you should know, you are not too anything, and there is nothing about your looks or body that is ‘not good.’’ He said every word firmly. “And most importantly, there is nothing, absolutely nothing about your body that I dislike, or that you should worry about me seeing or touching, okay?” His voice was soft during the last few sentences, like he was speaking to a little kid with a scraped knee. It made it a lot harder to resist crying. “Okay?” he said, still looking directly into your eyes. 

“Okay.” You said, watery. You swallowed hard and buried your face in his chest, feeling all too many emotions. “Thank you, Pete.” You didn’t think you could say anything else without falling apart. 

“It’s okay. I'ts alright. It’s what I’m here for.” He stroked the back of your head, still being gentle. “Just do me a favor, yeah?” 

“Mhm?” You muffled.

“Just, make my job easier for me next time. Tell me when you’re feeling like this, okay baby?” He pleaded as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Okay. I will.” 

“Good. Now cuddle me please.” Demanding Peter was back. “And put all your weight on me, it’s no good otherwise.” 

[sagesworlddd]

I Told The Stars About You

Summary: After a tough case that hit too close to home you decide to try and clear your mind by stargazing. When it doesn't work you suddenly hear the coworker you've been crushing on behind you.

A/N: This one-shot is less talking and more just light flirting. I think I'll be writing more flirty stuff in the future but I'm still learning so you'll have to deal with me! Also like I said in my pinned post in taking requests so feel free to send some! You can say a certain situation, a ship, a song to base it off, a trope, whatever! Just make sure to read my immediate no-gos.

Word Count: 0.6k

Song Suggestions: Esa Pared by Leo Dan ft. Vicente Fernãndez

The case had affected everyone. Cases that centre around kids always do, but this one really hit close to home for you. The best way you could think to cope with this was by doing the thing that always puts a smile on your face, even if only for a second.

It was almost pitch black when you parked your car on the vacant street. The only light being from the streetlights and the stars. Walking out into the old baseball field that the street backed up on you found a nice place to sit down. After getting situated you tilted your head up and just stared up at the stars. Looking at all the different shapes you could make. Listening to the sound of trees blowing in the wind and the sound of crickets.

Every time a memory from the case came back you focused on a new star, and a new happy thought. Normally you’d have smiled by now but it wasn’t happening. You couldn’t focus on the stars. The cold of the air became noticeable and the sounds of the crickets were now annoying. You couldn’t make out any shapes in the stars because they were becoming blurry by the tears in your eyes and the shakes in your breath. Everything was coming back and it was like you couldn’t do anything.

“Are you okay?” You jumped, startled by the voice behind you. When you turned your head you looked up to see Spencer standing above you, his hands in his pockets and a scarf wrapped around his neck and falling over his shoulder. You start to nod and wipe your face trying to calm yourself down before talking.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your words came out in one breath. You tried to stand up but Spencer sat down before you could. He sat there just looking down at the grass like he didn’t know what to say. “How’d you find me?”

“You seemed off on the jet and when you drove a different way I got concerned. I guess I followed you here but that sounds like I’m a stalker.” He laughed a little at the end then looked up from the grass and at you. You weren’t fine, it was obvious. “It doesn’t take a profiler to realise that you are clearly upset.”

“The case, it just hit close to home. I don’t want to talk about it.” The sentence came out a little blunt, almost angry. He seemed taken aback a little but he knew you didn’t mean any harm. “I just…want to look at the stars.”

“We can do that then.” He nodded then leaned back on his arms and looked up. You did the same but couldn’t help but look over at him as well. His scarf had become undone when he sat down and his hair fell backwards. You took the moment of comfort and layed down on the grass, Spencer doing the same.

The two of you just layed there for a long time. Looking at the stars and enjoying each other's company. You turned your head to see Spencer still looking at the stars and when you moved your eye contact down his hand was laying less than an inch away from yours. In a moment of bravery you moved yours and put it in his while quickly looking back at the stars. You could feel him looking at you, clearly having noticed the gesture.

Instead of rejecting the advance, he looked away then squeezed your hand and didn’t comment. The heat in your face mixed with the butterflies made it happen…the stars had finally made you smile. They just needed a little help this time.

[sagesworlddd]

Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)

Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!

thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k

"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately. 

"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."

You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat. 

It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears. 

Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet. 

"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct. 

"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?" 

"Do you have any water?" 

He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"

"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful." 

"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil. 

You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants. 

Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck. 

Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head. 

"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands." 

"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking. 

"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat." 

"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing." 

"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face. 

You try to greet them and end up hanging your head. 

"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.

You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh. 

You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care. 

"She's coming around," Hotch says. 

Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still. 

"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out." 

You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me." 

"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word. 

"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective." 

"No, you sound funny." 

"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained. 

"She's okay," Hotch says. 

You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous. 

"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says. 

"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later." 

You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh." 

"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head." 

"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.

"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."

"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks. 

"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room." 

"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly. 

"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either." 

"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused. 

"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs." 

Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs." 

You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.

"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want." 

"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No." 

Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go." 

"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says. 

"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"

"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted. 

"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse." 

Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious. 

Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing. 

"You'd share germs with me?" you ask. 

Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…" 

You breathe out slowly. "When you what?" 

"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all." 

If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with. 

You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently. 

He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily." 

[sagesworlddd]

i literally just found your account today and your spencer writings have me kicking my feet and twirling my hair-but not the point

all i’m going to say is: baking with spencer and you trying to add things in without measuring and he’s shook to his core

thank you so much n absolutely, he would lose his mind

"i think we have everything we need now," your boyfriend says, looking over the ingredients spread out over the counter. you hum, which makes him look up, "stop eating those, we need them," he snatches a packet of chocolate chips out of your hands

you scoff, "actually, those are the ones we need," you wave an unopened bag at him, "these are extras" you attempt to snatch the bag out of his hands but he moves, forcing you to fall forwards and off of the counter, where you were sat

spencer chuckles at you but steadies you with an arm around your waist. you shove at him lightly when he moves away, putting the chocolate chips on top of the fridge freezer, where he knows you can't reach

"that's so rude," you comment, squinting at him. he dips to kiss at your forehead, whilst rolling his eyes before reaching over to turn the oven on to preheat

he claps his hands together before looking around his kitchen, "where is the recipe?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing across his forehead

you shrug, "i don't have one," spencer gawps at you, like you're crazy. he shakes his head and takes off out of the room, "where are you going," you huff but don't move to find out

"i'm finding one," he shouts back from the other end of the apartment. his long legs getting him there much faster than you ever could

he eventually comes back, book in hand, "you have a recipe book?" you hum, amused. his apartment is filled with books but you've never seen a cook book

"yeah, it used to be my mom's" he says, flicking through the pages, "here we go," he scans over the page and then starts rummaging through his cupboards

you roll your eyes at him and then grab a bowl and the bag of flour. gently, you start pouring the powder, eyeballing it as you go. you've made chocolate chip cookies hundreds of times, winging it every single time

"so the recipe says-" spencer turns around with scales in his hands, stopping in his tracks when he see's you, "hey, stop, what are you doing?" he shrieks, grabbing at your hands, stopping you from pouring

you frown at him, "making cookies? what does it look like i'm doing?" huffing at him you manage to shake his hands off of you and in the process, sprinkle flour over both of your hands

"we need to measure it," he scoops the bowl off of the counter, once again holding it out of your reach

"no we don't," you groan and his jaw drops, "what? i've made these so many times spence, i could do it with my eyes closed!" you press your hands onto his shirt, smirking when he ends up with two perfect prints of flour on him

spencer stares at you and you stare back, arms crossing over your chest, "we have to do it properly," he says with a slight huff

bumping him out of the way you reach into one of his cupboards, getting out another mixing bowl, "fine, you make it with the recipe," you put the bowl on the counter, "i'll do it without"

your boyfriend shakes his head, "no, that's stupid"

loudly you groan, throwing your head back slightly, "we have enough ingredients, i promise you mine will turn out the same as yours, if not better" you say smugly, snatching the flour back from him

he watches you for a minute before giving in, not wanting to back down from the challenge. silently he moves around the kitchen, weighing out sugar, flour, butter and grabbing the right amount of eggs, side eyeing you occasionally to see what you're doing

"see, they look the exact same!" you point at the two identical trays of cookie dough, all rolled into small balls, ready to go into the oven

spencer slides the trays into the oven, humming like he's not fully convinced yours are going to be any good. "we'll see," he says, winding up a timer

you hop back up onto the counter, watching him collect the bowls and utensils before dumping them into the sink, "can i have the chocolate chips back now please?"

he grabs them off of the fridge freezer and then moves to stand between your legs, "kiss first please, honey" he hums, dipping forwards to kiss you three times

"thanks" you giggle afterwards, already tipping the chocolate pieces into your hand. you push a couple into spencer's open mouth, he nods appreciatively while rolling his sleeves up, ready to wash up

when the timer goes off you startle slightly, which makes spencer laugh as he gets the trays out, pushing them onto the counter. you reach for a spatula, taking one from each tray to cool down faster

"ready?" you ask once they have, holding your cookie up to your mouth, he mimics your actions. he nods once before you tuck into your treats, "don't know what you were so worked up about, tastes great"

"let me try," he says, opening his mouth so that you can slot the rest of it into his mouth, "what?" he screeches, still chewing, "yours taste better than mine, how?"

"magic, angel, it's real you know" you giggle, bouncing up to kiss melted chocolate away from his bottom lip

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

[sagesworlddd]

congrats my love!! you totally deserve it!! don’t doubt yourself bc you’re amazing 😽😽💗💗🫶🫶

even tho i feel like i dont deserve it cuz i’ve done nothing to get it, i hit 500!! thank you guys so much! :DDD

i love you all <333

[sagesworlddd]

why are so many bots following me all of a sudden help

[sagesworlddd]

Out of Time // Part 2

Summary: Once you had realized that you didn’t really belong with the BAU Team, you’d asked for a transfer. Now you find out that it all might have been a huge misconception and how are you supposed to deal with that?!

Pairing: BAU!Team x reader (platonic)

Warnings: feeling left out, feeling unneeded, being excluded, self worth issues

Part 1

—

It had been three weeks since you’d asked for a transfer. Hotch had been surprised to say the least. He’d immediately taken the time to implore for your reasons, asked whether there was anything he or the team could do, if you needed some time off or if something had happened. He’d been so earnest in wanting to make sure that you’re alright and so surprised by your decision that you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the true reason. So, you’d lied and told him that you felt like you couldn’t cope with the job and the daily tragedies and horrors anymore. He’d tried to find another solution for you to deal with your troubles and stay. It had felt nice to feel important enough to be still wanted on the team. For a split second you’d thought about taking the offer. But your thoughts drifted back to all the times you weren’t included, needed, or wanted. One effort, one time of feeling needed and wanted didn’t make up for all the other times, for a year of feeling like the exact opposite. And who was to say that it would stay that way. So you had insisted on feeling like this job wasn’t for you anymore. Hotch had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to keep you back from anything else that you felt you needed or wanted to do. You’d asked him to not say anything to the team just yet, feeling like you needed to tell them yourself.

You’d told Rossi first, since he and Hotch were the two people involved in finding your replacement. He’d been just as surprised as Hotch had been. You’d talked for a bit but gave him the same reasons you’d given Hotch as well. Rossi had expressed his sadness about seeing you leave but had accepted it. He’d told you that he could understand the feeling and that, as long as you felt you were doing what was best for you, he’d support you. There was also a promise of Spaghetti a la Rossi for lunch at the office before you’d leave.

Afterwards you informed Emily. She listened as stoically as she always did and simply nodded in acceptance. The following days she came over to your desk for short coffee breaks a lot more though, and you did recognise her attempts to make sure that you were alright. And if she sometimes looked a little sad when she was reminded that you’d leave soon, neither of you mentioned it.

Keep reading

[sagesworlddd]

happy birthday mother swift, i love you dearly ❤️

[sagesworlddd]

listening all day <3

happy two years to my bb evermore <3

she’s helped me through the toughest times and still is 💗

[sagesworlddd]

Amsterdam :D

i haven’t seen it but i have seen that scene

guys, I was watching a movie last night and I saw Taylor Swift get hit by a car. she got ran over. And I was like damn- 

[sagesworlddd]

this is so cute <3

npt: @lalaland06 @roxetteblack @bluesfromspace

Thanks for the tag @galaxycunt and @damejudyhench 💗! Tagged for this picrew!

Rhea Hawthorne || The Outer Worlds

Paige Lambert || Haven

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[sagesworlddd]

Out of Time // Part 1

Summary: It took you three separate instances to realise that maybe you just didn’t fit into the team of the BAU. Maybe you should be honest to yourself and just request another transfer. You loved the team, but you were unhappy, feeling left out and unneeded. Feeling like you did not belong.

Pairing: BAU!Team x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: feeling left out, feeling unneeded, being excluded, self worth issues

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It took you three separate instances to realise that maybe you just didn’t fit into the team of the BAU. Maybe your hope of finding your place within their dynamics had been for naught. Maybe you should be honest to yourself and just request another transfer. You loved the team, they were all wonderfully unique and brilliant people. You looked up to every single one of them and learned a lot from them as well. But you were unhappy, feeling left out and unneeded. Feeling like you did not belong.

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One

It had been a hard case that the team had worked on solving for the past few days. It had been gruesome and they had all felt pretty useless in the first few days since they’d not found a single lead. It had been Spencer’s brilliant thinking that had saved the day earlier this morning, as well as several lives.

The rest of the day had been spent wrapping everything up at the local PD. Since they’d gotten the message that the flight back would only start the following morning, the mood had been pretty relaxed and the spirits had been high. Once back at the Hotel, you decided on taking a hot shower and changed into something comfortable before settling in for a relaxed evening. It had been a stressful week and you were glad for the chance to unwind before getting back to work tomorrow. Lying down in the surprisingly comfortable bed, you switched on the TV and zapped through the channels until you had found something you could stand watching. It took you only two hours to grow bored though, and you decided to take a nightly walk to clear your mind some more before going to bed.

Throwing on a jacket, you made your way out of the hotel and moved to stroll through some of the more livelier streets in the area. You passed bars and restaurants, the odd laundromat and corner store until you passed by a small Chinese restaurant. You would have just walked past it, like you had done with all the other restaurants, if you hadn’t heard a very familiar laugh and excited voices the moment the door opened and a couple stepped out. You peered through the large window into the brightly lit interior just to freeze at the view. Inside was sitting your entire team around a big, round table that was loaded with food and wine. They were all smiling and laughing, even Hotch. Spencer was trying to figure out how to use his chopsticks, while Rossi seemed to be commenting on it until JJ took pity on him and helped out with the good old hair tie trick.

Watching them, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. They seemed content and happy, relaxed. Looking in from the outside, they looked like a slightly odd family. And you clearly weren’t part of it. Your smile dropped and you felt your shoulders hunch in defeat. They’d clearly planned this outing, but none had invited you. You were fairly new to the team, had only been with them for four month. You had tried really hard to fit in, to befriend them, to find your place within their dynamic. It wasn’t easy. They’d worked together for so many years that they functioned as one. Everyone who joined them would have to struggle to find a place. And it wasn’t that they were rude or didn’t take you seriously. They were friendly and had greeted you openly, assuring you they were looking forward to working with you. It was just that they worked so well together, they sometimes seemed to forget you were there too.

Sighing to yourself, you brushed away the tears that had gathered in the corners of you eyes. You’d wanted to be part of the dynamic so badly, part of this weirdly imperfect perfect chosen family that worked together. You’d wanted to feel like you’d belong. Instead you felt more lonely than ever. Slowly stepping away from the window you sullenly made your way back to the Hotel. The next morning you greeted your colleagues with a smile, resolving to not let them notice that you’d stumbled upon their little get together last night. After all, maybe they just needed some more time to warm up to you. Maybe you just needed some more time to find your place.

And if anyone of them noticed that you were quieter than usual and your gaze held a sadness that wasn’t usually there, none of them said anything about it.

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Two

It had been a rather slow week at the BAU. Not that it wasn’t welcome. It gave everyone the chance to catch up on their paperwork. Well, except for Reid who seemed to be ahead of them as always. It was rather monotonous and lead to more frequent coffee breaks and more chit chat within the bullpen.

Today you’d decided to make a little detour on your way to work and get their favourite drinks and bagels for everyone as a surprise. Stepping into the bullpen, you were surprised that everyone was being rather quiet. Emily was wearing shades inside and her hair seemed unbrushed. Morgan was sitting at his desk, head tipped back against his chair and eyes closed. Spencer was starring at the same side of his report without flipping the page. Taking a look at the offices upstairs you saw that Hotch was on the phone and looked like his usual stoic self. Rossi however had his lights dimmed considerably and seemed to be staring at the wall.

Placing your goods onto your desk, you grabbed the first few things and delivered them to their respective recipients. Hotch, still on the phone, gifted you with one of his rare smiles and nodded in thanks. Rossi playfully kissed your hand and dramatically declared you the hero of his day, making you giggle at his ridiculous display. JJ wasn’t in yet, so you placed her things on her desk for her to find. Derek gave you a salute as soon as he saw his coffee, forgoing words for chucking half the drink at once. Emily made grabby hands as soon as you moved towards her, smiling brilliantly at you as soon as she had food and caffeine in her hands. Spencer blinked at you in surprise, but smiled gently and muttered a quick thank you.

“Why do they all look like death warmed over?” you chuckle slightly, as you stepped into Garcia’s office to bring her her drink and a bagel.

“Oh, you’re the best Y/N, thanks! They’re all hungover. Had way too much to drink last night at the Club, well except for Bossman and Boy-Wonder of course. But Reid is an absolute lightweight, gets drunk on one cocktail. And Emily made him drink two. It was hilarious. Too bad you couldn’t make it!” Garcia seemed to be her usually peachy self, but she was wearing shades inside as well.

“Yeah, too bad. Sounds like a lot of fun”, you mutter, already on your way back to your desk. You hadn’t known anything about a Club night. Seems like you hadn’t been invited again. This time it hurt just a little more, knowing that none of them had thought to invite you while they must have known that you’d find out the next day when they were hungover. You felt like they were shoving in your face the fact that you didn’t belong. That they’d tolerate you at work, but you had no places in the team and in their lives beyond that. You felt like a fool for buying the drinks and the food. God, you must seem so desperate for their approval. At least Garcia seemed like she wouldn’t have minded having you there.

Feeling your eyes sting, you made a quick detour to the bathroom. You took a few minutes to breathe deeply and splash some water onto your face to hide the slight blotchiness from your tears. Taking another deep breath you moved back to your desk and tried to enjoy your coffee.

Trying to keep your emotions in check, you stayed silent most of the day. You didn’t join the coffee breaks or the chit chat, feeling like you weren’t really wanted there either way. You stayed silent when Derek weaseled some of his own paperwork into your pile to get off work earlier and when the other’s slowly finished their work for the day.

On your way back from the little kitchenette with yet another coffee, you noticed that you and Hotch were the only ones left. It was Friday evening and the team was off the rota for the weekend. A rare occurrence. You were sure that Hotch was wanting to go home to his son, but if the man was anything it was responsible. He was sure to finish the paperwork before he’d go.

Sighing to yourself for the umpteenth time that day, you made your way up the stairs and gently knocked on the door. Hotch called you in immediately.

“Y/L/N, I thought you’d gone home already like everyone else.”

“Nah, didn’t have any plans for today and I wanted to get ahead of the paperwork.” Hotch nodded in understanding, glancing at his own pile. You followed his gaze and shook your head slightly.

“Are those reports that you have to fill in specifically or can either of us do those as well?” Hotch frowned slightly but confirmed that anyone of the team could work on them. You nodded gently and grabbed about half the pile. Hotch of course instantly protested and assured you that he had no problem filling them out on his own.

“I know. But I don’t have any plans and I’m sure Jack will be happy if you get home an hour or two earlier. And you as well”, you said softly while moving back out of his office and to your desk to not give him the chance to protest or argue any more.

An hour later you noticed Hotch getting ready to leave. On his way out he stopped at your desk, thanking you again for helping him out and reminding you not to stay too long. You just nodded and smiled, whishing him a nice weekend with Jack. As soon as he’d left, your shoulders slumped again. Well, even if they didn’t want you to be a part of their lives, you could at least make sure that you had some use for them. And if making sure that they get to leave work a bit earlier and spend time with their loved ones was it, then you wouldn’t complain. And if you grew even more quiet and distant towards the team, they never brought it up.

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Three

It had been a coincidence that you’d even seen the picture. You’d gone to Garcia, wanting to get the information the team required for the case. The filter had still been running and you’d decided to stay the few minutes it would need to finish. She’d excitedly told you about a new dress she was planning on buying and grabbed her phone to show you.

The lockscreen was a picture of the entire team. Well, more like the entire team except for you. You’d disregarded it and would have assumed that it was an old one, if Spencer didn’t already sport his new haircut he had only gotten last week and if there hadn’t been a small scratch on Hotch’s temple, one that was currently still healing. The picture showed them all grinning at the camera, glasses of wine in hand and seemingly cracking up over something.

Well, there was no need to lie to yourself anymore. You weren’t really part of the team. They didn’t need you, they’d worked well before you’d joined and they still would once you’d left. And they didn’t seem to want you either. For one year you’d tried to find your footing, your own place within the team. You’d given it time. You’d known they were like family and would need time to adjust to someone new as well. They hadn’t though.

It wasn’t like they didn’t take you seriously or disregarded you ideas. Not at all, they always took into account what you thought and listened to what you had to say. Somehow though it didn’t feel like enough. You had wanted to be a part of this brilliant team for a long time bow, and in a way you were. But not completely. You liked the work, liked helping people and catching the bad guys. You adored every single person on the team in their own way.

Hotch the stoic leader, who always seemed to be stern and so serious, but smiled at Reid’s antics and first bumped him when he looks sad because Derek didn’t. Who always made sure that his teams was alright, reassuring Garcia that she was exactly what the team needed and made small jokes to make her laugh and encouraged Derek to take on more leading responsibilities. Standing up to anyone who dared to threaten or criticise his team, being the first to puts his job on the line and repeatedly disregarded career prospects to stay with them. The person, who centred the team, who always listened and understood, identifying the input each of them had to offer, and formed it into a plan.

Rossi, who was the teams father figure, always listening to everyone and always having a fitting piece of advice to give. Who didn’t care about his fame and just wanted to help people, not hesitating to use his own resources. Who swore in Italian and could charm anyone if wanted, but deliberately choose not to. Who likes expensive things but never missed a chance to share them and who always had a snarky comment for any situation, bringing his famous spaghetti for lunch on a regular basis.

Derek with his nicknames and his flirting and his stupidly big heart, who just wanted to do right and was stupidly self-sacrificing. The man who started prank wars and tried to get out of doing paperwork and liked to challenge authority, but would never leave anyone hanging. Who demolished and remodelled houses and was the first to offer help in any situation, but not afraid to call anyone out on their bullshit.

Emily with her dark sense of humour and though exterior, who would do anything to protect the team and subtly checked in on everyone to see if they were alright. Who could kick anyone’s ass and didn’t hesitate to do so if she felt it warranted. Who felt so much more than she showed. The Emily that could beat Spencer at cards while being nearly as geeky as him. Who could face the most gruesome of cases without flinching and kept most of her life private.

Spencer with his brilliant mind and his awkward nature, who rambled on and on about any topic and tried to cheer people up with magic tricks. Who listened to people and tried his best to give advice and who was way braver and way stronger than he looked. Who always looked out for his colleagues and friends and tried to help anytime he could, even if he didn’t have a solution yet.

JJ the mother of the group, who was soft and gentle and always had an open ear and an open door, but could be fierce and hard if need be. Who tried to do right by everyone and nearly always succeeded in lightning the mood and making people smile. Who made tough decisions without blinking and stood up for them.

Garcia the colourful whirlwind of cheerfulness and happiness, who was a stark contrast to everything they saw in their job everyday. Garcia, who always had a witty comeback and saved their asses on a regular basis, never quite getting the recognition she deserved. The light in their dark and the glue that held the team together.

But it wasn’t enough. You had played with the thought for weeks now. And you had come to the conclusion that you felt like you didn’t fit within the team. You had no special talent or knowledge, no more than the other members of the team at least. You felt tolerated at work, included even. But seeing them functioning together so well, seeing the unshadowed joy and affections every time they interacted with each other, feeling left out in everything that didn’t directly pertain to a case – you couldn’t do it anymore. For over a year you’d tried your best, given your all just to not be enough, just to still not having a set place within the team. You would miss them terribly, even though you weren’t sure that they’d feel the same. But you refused to be miserable.

So, taking a deep breath and knocking on Hotch’s door once the case was over, you squared your shoulders, stepping in as soon as he answered and moved towards his desk while he asked what he could do for you.

“I want to request a transfer.”

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Please keep in mind that I'm not a native speaker. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

[sagesworlddd]

happy two years to my bb evermore <3

she’s helped me through the toughest times and still is 💗

[sagesworlddd]

and ofc i had to use lyrics from cowboy like me <3

it’s one of her most beautiful and poetic songs, it deserves it <3

NEW THEME!! evermore is my favourite album of taylor’s and i thought i would do a theme for her <3