#(I JUST NEEDED TO ADD MY USERNAME AND I FINALLY GOT MYSELF TO DO THAT)

[revelingrexan]

this project started because my brain was like "oh Spark's sticker (yellow team leader) has a really nice smile. :) ... nice smile = White HatOHCOME ON"

then i needed to see him in all the poses (in the blue team outfit for the rest because he'd be blue team)

[sonnet-of-anarchy]

CW: Personal, mental health & EDs

So, yeah, bit of an outlier in that I’m not really one to get profound with personal stuff on this website & this will probably never get posted but, hey, if this can help someone feel better today I suppose it’s worth it?

Truth is, these past few months have been really hard - it’s all come to a peak now in that I’m in the sucky situation of having spent the holidays in daycare and hospital treatment - now quasi inpatient. I’m frustrated, because I’m facing demons I thought I’d defeated a while back, and angry because I’ve had to make the decision to put uni on hold until I’m better yet that was the one thing that motivated me to recover first time round in college. But, my dissertation isn’t going anywhere - I might not graduate this year like I planned but at least me and my loved ones recognised the signs and I’m now where I need to be - even if I didn’t want it at first.

My point, above other reflections, is that sometimes you can feel like you’re not going anywhere or haven’t made progress - so I suppose my little PSA to you is that I promise you have. Even if your path is dark & you can’t see five feet in front of you, can’t tell if the road forks or ends entirely… I bet you can’t see behind you either; even if trepidatiously you’re still walking forward. Don’t try to compare your path to the pristine roads of others - so what if yours has more potholes? They’re what makes life interesting - as my username suggests I love a bit of chaos ;)

And although the latter of 2023 and now 2024 have felt like the return of a bad dream I’ve still done my first open mic, re-discovered art, visited Button House, published poetry, written fics, seen the Ghost’s finale and my 20th birthday with my next just over a month away, got new tattoos and piercings with more planned, celebrated 2 years with my boyfriend whilst exploring polyamory like we’ve always wanted and just generally progressed in life in ways I sometimes dismiss categorising as ‘achievements’ because I think we’re all guilty of being too hard on ourselves sometimes.

I beat this at seventeen, I can do it again. Yes I’m ill, I can see that now, but inpatient has allowed me not only to reflect but also given time to write & do some things for myself that are small but meaningful. Appreciate life’s slices because one day they’ll add to a whole.

Anyway, I wanted to share some scrapbook pages I did yesterday & let you know that C3 of chess archives is in its slow works 💖

[fox0war]

Okay first off: Sorry if I block you, you just look fuckin suspicious as hell if you've got a real name username, no pfp, no posts/reblogs, no likes, and you're subbed to like 5000 ppl, ima think you're a bot. Either that or I just... didn't like you, sorry. Secondly: DNI if you're Racist, Any variant of Queerphobic (Homo, trans, bi, ect), Sexist, ect. No anti-furs either, I have a lot of furry friends and while not a furry myself, produce a lot of anthro content. No proshippers too, that content makes me HELLA uncomfortable and makes me suspicious of you. I'll add to this as relevant. Thirdly!: Please feel free to send asks, I love asks, y'all have no idea how excited I get when I see something in my Inbox!! If I take awhile to respond I promise I'm not trying to ignore your ask, I probably just forgot to respond! Fourth: Fanart of ocs is appreciated! But please do ask first! I enjoy most content enjoying them but there are defo some limitations on how I'd like them depicted, yk? Like I'd rather not shipping unless a character is stated to be with someone specific, or I'd prefer not to get sexual stuff of my ocs, and so on! So please, ask first! (And please don't kin anyone! It makes me uncomfortable, I hope you understand) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Finally we get to the master post section, I'll try to edit this as needed but I do get forgetful sometimes! Please check #ramblings from a den dweller for me posting random stuff, I try to tag all my random thoughts that don't belong here with that! --- Meet the Artist (TBA) --- COTL Main AU (Should probs give it a proper name at some point) -Attempts at designing my Lamb 1 - 2 - 3 -General Headcanons/Stuff that has happened 1 - Yoinked with permission - 2 - 3 -Cultist Designs!! Hano(Fish) - Vephar - Multiple - Sozo - Baal and Friend - Multiple, Again -You, You get me. -Fox Family Chaos -Shamura... -Kallawimp --- COTL The Feasting AU / Cannibal AU -The Beginning --- Cerifikn Nation -Pho'Bous's stories 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -Mr. I'os gets tormented by past trauma -Who is Pho'Bous? -What is raising Mushroom like? -Who even is Moss? Who is Mushroom? -Some proper intros -Adopts I made for the group!! --- The Amazing Digital Carnival AU (belongs to @sm-baby I just did the fan content) -Millie! -Online Forums -Oh dear... --- Don't Starve Together -OC but... survivor? -Actual attempt at turning them into a DST char --- [Placeholder for later fandom chaos]

[earlgreytea68]

as someone who feels about slack the exact same way you feel about discord, i am really sorry :( (like. i had to use slack once for real work reasons but i just couldn't figure out At All, gave up and solved the issues i had benn instructed to solve through it in other alternative ways i figured out by myself because it was just That anti-intuitive for me)

This is amazing. I wonder if anyone has studied this!! Like, it's probably something about what kind of thinker each of us is. Like, for instance, someone just asked me my Discord username, and I gave it, but everyone else gave a bunch of numbers after a hashtag, and I was like, ...what is that??? hahaha do you need those numbers and hashtag???? I had no idea???? I don't even know what my Discord username is, apparently lol

This was after I had to trick Discord to even let me HAVE another username because I couldn't figure out how to add a new account without opening up a private browser window because if I was signed in as my first Discord account I just could not figure out how to add a new account. I could SWITCH accounts but that presupposed the account I wanted to switch to already existed. Which it did not. But I couldn't find the option to add account.

And then I finally opened the private browser window and created a new account and successfully got myself added to the server and...it doesn't have the channel everyone is talking about, so I assume I'm actually somehow on the WRONG server, but I literally at this point cannot be bothered to try to figure it out, like, I have done enough fighting with Discord for the evening, I have shut it down to continue to ignore it.

My Slack is still open with its multiple servers with multiple names and multiple conversations all organized, though lol

[imightbeabuddhist]

Salutations Tumblr.

Welcome to My Blog:

By Z.D. Burkitt

The question on your mind has to be, but who are you? Well, let me answer your question with a question. Did I forget the "by" line? No, I'm really asking. Anyway.

I'm Z.D. Burkit. Z for short. I've been a hobbyist writer for 25 years. Now, I'm a Copywriter. Can you tell? -covers my username with my hand- So, I figured I'd introduce myself. As I said, I've been writing for 25 years. However, I haven't published anything other than crappy fanfiction on fanfiction.net. Assuming that website still exists. Like a blacksmith at their* forge, I've learned much about writing, honing my craft(we'll get there.* <--pun). As the name suggests, I'll mostly be posting Copywriting Memes. Sometimes it'll just be the meme. Other times I might share why I like it and any insights I gleaned from it. I'll also post regular blogs and the occasional short story. Now it's time to address the elephant in the refrigerator.

Darn that Pesky Pachyderm:

I am Non-binary. No, I won't bring this up unless I need to. Nor do I care what pronouns you use. They, he, she, or neo-pronouns are all fine. I'll leave that up to you. I should also say I am Pansexual and engaged. As I get more comfortable, I'll give more details. One final thing, I have ADHD. Since this is my first post, I think I'll leave the housekeeping there. This seems like a good time to get the elephant out of my now-destroyed fridge. -sigh- 

Some more Things about Me:

I'm fascinated by fungi. I guess you can call me an amateur mycologist. Mushrooms, lichens, and all fungi are mesmerizing. I'm working on a story about super-powered teens living in 2100. The Golden Trio in my novel are LGBTQIA+ and Neurodiverse characters. River, the MC, is a Genderfluid Pansexual shapeshifter. One of their best friends is an AMAB non-binary gay person. The other is a cis-gendered bisexual guy. I promise River is not a self-insert. You'll come to know that as I add more to this blog. I am a big-ol' nerd. As evidenced by my near-comprehensive knowledge of the Camp Half-Blood Chronicles. Feel free to test me. I'm also well-versed in Destiny and Gear of War lore. Despite not owning any, I have a growing appreciation for excellent watches. They're just cool. Although I'm no car expert, that's what we call an understatement, kids; I do enjoy rewatching episodes of The Grand Tour. While we're on shows, I'm constantly binging Start Trek DS9. It's my comfort show. I aspire to one day get a Private Pilot's license. And yet, I've never flown. I've never even seen the inside of a plane that was about to take off—just a few at an aviation museum. While we're on the topic, one of my favorite podcasts is Black Box Down; it's all about aviation disasters. Listen to it if you're afraid to fly like I was. You'll realize just how rare these things are. Not only that, but the steps taken to prevent them from happening again. Not a spon. I have no sponsorships. I'm an anime fan, shocking, I know. And I'm clearly a fan of italics. And, like David Tannat's Doctor, I can ramble when I get going, can't I? Here are a couple of rapid-fire facts about me.

I practice lockpicking as a hobby - Scrolling through TikTok, I came across a guy called McNallyOffical, who made it look like a lot of fun. So, I bought a cheap lockpicking kit of off; I'll call it the Everything Store and a cheap (read Master Lock) lock. As soon as it arrived, I stared with the clear practice lock, and once I stopped pretending I was in Skyrim, I got it on my second try. Now that little clink sound of the shackle popping is just uggh. -chief's kiss-

I'm 420-friendly - That one speaks for itself. 

I'm an ex-Atheist - I'll admit this is partially due to the anger I felt when I had to deal with any religious or spiritual things that wasn't good for my mental health. So I took a step back from the community and soon found I wasn't angry more often than not. I still respect and listen to many Atheists like Penn Jillette and his business partner, Mr. Teller. Jillette's book God No! is still a personal favorite. The anger made me decide to believe in all gods or none. I have an answer to the ontological question do you believe in god? I believe in every god. I'll delve into that later.

I do believe Science - Despite believing in spiritual things, I am an avid proponent and communicator of Science. No Flearth or anti-vax nonsese here. One spiritual practice I reject is holistic crap and other snake oil. Crystals are pretty, but they can't heal shit IRL. 

This one should be obvious - I'm someone you can come to if you're LGBTQIA+ and you need to talk. 

I have depression, anxiety, and ADHD - I'm very open and vocal about my, and mental health in general. It's important, and you are too. Never forget that.

I think that's an excellent place to stop. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Take care. 

-Z

The Convival Copywriter

P.S.

If you're interested in an INTRODUCTORY OFFER for my services, email me at zdburkitt@gmail.com. 

-The Convival Copywriter

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: Stalking, social anxiety, social media pressure.

Seeking advice and suggestions about what to do.

To give some background info, social media wasn't huge while I was in high school. FB was really the only big site people around me used, but I didn't have too many friends during high school and I just wasn't that interested in it. Then, I got IG, which I really enjoyed for about 1 year. But thanks to IG I did run into some stalking situations and had a nervous breakdown, and even though I was an adult by the time I had it, my mom was upset and felt like it was something I did behind her back (she never explicitly said "No social media" but just assumed I'd never get IG because of me never being into it before).

It took me a long time to stop being anxious about social media but fast-forward to this year and now my current friends are using it, so I joined in, but I'm not really using it "with" them even though I've added them, it's not mutual.

When I added one of my friends they told me in advance that she doesn't always see people show up in her feed, which I understand, but I still thought she would've added me back after I told her my username?

I also have some friends who I added a long time ago but who never added me back, maybe because they didn't know me well enough back then, but I see them interacting with everyone else?

And then finally I have a friend who seems kind of similar to me (generally doesn't seem like a huge social media person but still likes some of the cute pictures and memes that end up on there; she's also my closest friend out of my current group). But I remember her getting stuck on the sign-up page (you know, the "Are you a human?" drag and drop tests), got annoyed, and gave up on trying to join since she said it was too hard for her to figure out. So I get where she was coming from but at the same time I felt a little upset because I think having her on there with me could've given me a confidence boost and maybe if our other friends saw me interacting with her, they'd add me back and include me in stuff, too.

I feel like it's kind of a silly thing to even think about. I'm not hugely into social media and at the end of the day I feel like my friends are my friends because we still do other activities together and get along. But I still get a sense of being on the outside looking in when I see them making inside jokes to each other and tagging each other in cute friendship memes and stuff. Plus because of my bad experiences with social media before, it actually did take me a lot of effort to finally pull out myself out of the severe anxiety and trauma I felt towards it and give it another shot.

I don't want to be one of those pushy people who's like "Hey, you need to add me!" especially since I have tried to like... "gently nudge" people into adding me before, and they haven't shown an interest back. I don't want to be "annoying" about it but it does make me feel left out sometimes, and then I blame myself for not knowing how to act on these sites, and what comes off as normal vs. annoying.

Hi anon,

I’m so sorry to hear of your social media experiences, especially in regards to stalking, and I’m so glad you’re safe.

Social media can be such a tricky thing - on multiple levels, and I can definitely relate to needing to learn how to navigate it a bit as an adult (since I come from a similar background in that it wasn’t huge while I was in high school either) - especially when it came to digital boundaries, including but not limited to, deciding who gets access to me, my privacy, and how we define “friendships.”

On one hand, social media allows us to be more connected than ever, with people we very likely might never have met in any other way (international friendships, niche interests, online groups, etc).  On the other hand, many people feel more alone than ever, and I truly believe in some instances it has to do with needing to ask ourselves, and be willing to share, what we want out of social media - and then explore a bit to see who else might share the same goals.

For example: 

How do you define the word friend?  Acquaintance?  Mutual?

Is there a certain amount of interaction you’re looking for?  Weekly?  Monthly?  

Do you have various levels of what you would consider intimate, vs casual?  Say, do you like the idea of sharing your birthday online, and getting multiple messages that day?  Would you prefer a digital card DM’d to you?  

Do you have any special interests, where you could join some online groups?  Sometimes finding that common interest can help get the conversations flowing and get to know people a bit easier as you dive deeper into exploring friendships.

These might seem like simple questions, but depending on someone’s boundaries and privacy they might have very different ideas than you on what they’re comfortable with.  And just like you should have the freedom and space to share what your hopes are as you explore these new relationships, so should they with you - maybe you’ll find overlaps, maybe you’ll realize it’s not the best fit, but that doesn’t mean it’s an automatic red flag, or says anything about you or the other person.

I do hear you on that fear of perception, of wanting to be cautious about how you try to engage, but I feel like you could do everything “right” and still be viewed as “annoying” by someone.  I feel it might be more about how you communicate your wants and needs early on so both parties can feel secure moving forward as they build a foundation of friendship.  And if you have these conversations, and you realize it’s not the relationship for you?  Then worst case scenario, you spare yourselves a bit of a heartache down the line, and make room for people who do share your similar interests.

Regardless of what you learn, and decide for yourself as you explore online friendships more, I hope you cultivate relationships in safe and mutual spaces, that add some joy and laughter to your day.

- Mod Kat

[cait-with-luv]

PART 2 PREVIEW

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard.

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst(And I mean Angst), Polyamorous!BTS

Warnings: Abuse(Mental, Physical and Sexual), Eating Disorders, Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, PTSD.

------

"This is a safe space Y/N. Nobody is going to shame you, hurt you, nothing like that, we don't expect you to trust immediately and that's okay, we'll earn it. No matter how long it takes. You are cared for and safe here. You are not a pet or anything like that. You're a still human just like us at the end of the day. We want to protect you and get you justice towards whoever did this to you okay? Do you understand?" Namjoon says gently sitting across from you ensuring there was distance so you felt comfortable. He wanted to give you space you've probably never had before. Let you come to him. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you.

"Yes master. I understand. I promise not to make you angry." You say in a hushed voice, keeping your eyes down. You had been taught to never be loud or look your superior in the eyes as a sign of respect. You didn't want to mess up. They had been so nice to you, you feared one wrong move then they would mistreat you. The boys felt nauseous hearing you sound so submissive and fearful. Calling Namjoon master.

"Little cub. We are not you're masters. You never ever have to call us that. We aren't like the others. We don't own you, we don't want anything from you nothing at all. You are you're own person. Just call us by our names. We aren't superiors, we're just like you. Human. Yes you may be part leopard to but you are also a human being. You can speakly louder and freely. You're thoughts, opinions and feelings are all valid in this house okay? You can look at us. Nothing will happen. We won't ever get mad at you okay? That is something we promise." Yoongi says softly feeling his heart sink into his stomach. You have so much trauma and fear built up that you really did think all humans were the same. And in that moment he knew. They all knew. They were going help you conquer it all and find the person you really were behind it all and they couldn't wait to see it, the real you. They were going to protect you not matter what it took.

----

Nearly a whole year it's took me to do this I am so very sorry. It was not supposed to take this long I promise but so much has happened in my life that I just couldn't update and mentally I really wasn't here. I've finally got back control in my life and I am very proud of myself to say the least. My computer had also broken so I couldn't update and needed to save up for a new one which was a big challenge and then I even moved which was great but also set me back for updating once again as I was sorting out my new home and trying to adjust but finally everything is blown over or I am working through it amd hopefully back on track for updates and writing etc. Another thing to add thank you so much for your love for this story already and all of your paitence you don't understand how much it means to me! The taglist is huge and because of that I want to yet again remind people that unfortunately it is closed for the time being!

Anyway CHAPTER 2 RELEASE WILL BE MONDAY 24TH OCTOBER 7PM BST AND DOWN BELOW ARE THE CONVERSIONS SO YOU GUYS KNOW! SORRY IF I MISSED YOUR TIMEZONE OUT!

TAGLIST AGAIN IF I MISSED SOMEONE OUT, YOU HAVE CHANGED YOUR USERNAME OR YOU DIDN'T GET A NOTIFICATION I'M SORRY AND LET ME KNOW!

@luciferslvst @pb-n-james @kimsaerom @tinyoonsblog @mintyoonjisworld @malewife-supremacy @army4eve3r @mageprincess7 @dreamamubarak @ot7nem @hayleypearce @yoongiigolden @kinkyduuh @victoryscreech61 @driftapart @carolinexkpop @duskiebaby @colourlyhobbit @toughbook @ah2002 @beeeee06 @euphoriayongbok @bbgniecyy @linospot @jaiuneamesolitaiire @whotfisclaire @rich-man-v @bangtanxberm @pathetic-brat @murkydoesnotloveyou @cheychey-4788 @kookiesandmilk-blog @atinygracie @echo-ethe @yo-alli @blancflms @scarlet1722 @jamlessstars @theblueslytherin @rosquilleta @slash4slashers @chieftoadturkeynickel @m4r1eluvr

[thebritcrit]

Let's Be Brutally Honest About Tangled: The Series

As someone who primarily goes on Tumblr to discuss Tagnled:The Series, I often find myself mired in detailed arguements about all the flaws, botched characerisation and missed opportunities, so I've finally decided to express my own opinions on the show. I've always admired the Simon Cowell brand of Brutal Honesty (hence my username). But I want to say one thing about Tangled: The Series that will put all arguements about it to bed (for now, anyway!).

When all is said and done, Tangled: The Series IS a good series.

It's flaws prevent it from being a GREAT series IMO, but it's a Good one - probably the best (or at least the most interesting) Disney Channel series based on a Disney film...

The Animation style is one of the best in Disney Channel history. Instead of being a cheaper version of the original, it does something that's totally unique, but just as immersive and colourful, and feels genuinely impressive in its own right.

The Voice Acting is consistently strong, with the original cast being joined by an array of Broadway veterans, Cult Icons, Pro Voice Actors, and even a few suprisingly talented YouTubers.

There are plenty of issues with the way the story was delivered, but the skeleton is mostly pretty strong. The twists and plot points that didn't work out (even the ones that push Suspension of Disbelief to its limit) could have been made to work with a few more rewrites and a bit more focus and clarity.

The characters are almost all memorable and engaging. Many should have got more to do, a couple (Frederic, Caliope) probably should have got less, but they are all enjoyable characters with a strong personality who are fun to spend time with.

I also admire the "do anything once" ethos of the show. The original Tangled is a very good Disney movie, but I personally feel it was a bit "safe" in comparison to others in the Disney Revival. "Safe" is not a word you would use to describe a show which adds a grand mythological arc, alchemy and tonnes of crazy smaller-scale/one-off ideas to what was previously a pretty classic fairytale. But it works - It's a pleasure to see Rapunzel explore such a big and memorable world...

I love seeing Rapunzel and Eugene deal with the various issues they face, and remain in a stable supportive relationship whilst being allowed to have flaws and insecurities. I love seeing them both grow into talented and powerful authority figures. I also love Varian's redemption arc, which is totally on-point.

I admire many of the messages and ideas behind the show, even if some of them were confined to individual episodes and others needed to be explored more. There are powerful ideas about recovering from trauma and coping with feelings of inferioirity and insecurity, and these feel genuinely powerful and important right now. As Rapunzel put it in S1, "Difficult Choices Make Us Who We Are", and I'm glad to see the four protagonists come to terms with their problems and take steps to rise above them.

And finally, I admire what Tangled: The Series TRIED to do with Cassandra. The core premise behind her is utterly fascinating, and even if the delivery was erratic, the genuinely tragic potential behind Casandra shines through enough times to elevate her above most Disney villains of recent years. I'd rather watch a Disney Channel show that takes failed risks than one that doesn't take risks at all.

Ultimately, despite all its problems, Tangled: The Series is worthy of all the love and affection it gets...

P.S - I deliberately left one of the best things about the show out - the music. The fact this show allowed Alan Menken to complete his EGOT is an impressive (and richly deserved) claim to immortality...

[aquabuggy]

PC Game + Cellphone Combo Water Games

Please don’t re-post my images/gifs/videos, thank you! 🧡

Received plenty of mail yesterday, including this lovely odd water game set! This set reminds me quite a bit of vintage telecom computers with built in telephones! Not to mention, laptop and cellphone themed water games are some of my top favorite kinds to find, and seeing these two joined together at the hip, I was very pleased to be able to find a reasonable listing for a set. Unfortunately, the original seller has since deleted the listing, otherwise I’d absolutely link it. If they restore it or another pops up, I’ll be sure to update.

Getting these though, I can finally talk about one of my favorite toy tropes: Faux Tech! Faux Tech is a term I coined for myself to better recognize and categorize toys mimicking more real world “adult” technologies. They don’t necessarily have to be completely non-digital either, I tend to extend the term to all toys that mimic more complex machines in appearance and/or function, and are a cheaper and more kid-ified version of an item, such that you’d give a child so they stop trying to take the real deal from you. “You got games on your phone?” Here, this game IS a phone, have fun! That’s Faux Tech.

Digressing though, I’m a BIGGGG fan of these two games both together and on their own. I’ve been hoping for a cellphone game with a more realistic-based case, and the colors of the laptop are just a wonderful rainbowy mess. I simply adore the incomplete keyboard, figuring out what names and usernames would turn out like if one had to utilize those limited keys is pretty funny, not gonna lie. Mine would be ug, and aquauggy. Not tooooo far off, though would definitely be a bigger issue typing much else!

No demonstration videos for now, unfortunately. I’d love to add them but tumblr only allows one video per post. That’s alright though, I do need to work on making my recordings less shaky anyways. Oh! And I did receive another laptop water game with this one! But I’ve decided to give it a separate post since it’s a different model, and has some….strange qualities to it, let’s say!

[juniorgman187]

Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.” 

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today 

Grant: don’t need to. 

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 

“Who keeps texting you?” 

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!” 

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 

“No one.” 

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 

“No, sir.” 

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 

“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 

This war was far from over. 

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied. 

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 

What you feel. 

I clung onto those words. 

What was I really feeling? 

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _ 

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 

“A dating app, actually.” 

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.” 

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 

He felt sorry for me. 

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 

But I should’ve. 

_ _ _ 

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.” 

_  _ _ 

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 

You deserve more than that. Much more. 

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 

“I asked you first.” 

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 

“What? What is it?” I urged. 

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 

That never came. 

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 

“Always, trouble.” 

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 

_ _ _ 

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 

She was my priority. 

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 

She was so cold. 

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 

I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _ 

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?” 

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that. 

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid 

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[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 2

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5016 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Flirting … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

-- Part 1 -

The heat of two bodies against one another. Skin upon skin, fingers grazing tenderly. Hands gripping suddenly, forcefully yet securely. I am holding onto dear life on his broad shoulders. My nails digging inside the skin. It makes him grunt in pleasure. I can’t hear it over my own sound of pleasure. My head lolls back, my neck is being attacked. Bites, kisses and words against it. My entire body is aflame. I’m now holding onto the bed head. I’m not surrounded by darkness anymore.

 The landscape has changed, I’m not on my bed. It’s a hospital bed. No one is around, someone is on top of me, I can’t see their face. But it feels good. Hot breath against my skin, soft hands on my hips. The increasing pressure inside-

“Hey wake up! If you want to ride with me to campus, you better get your ass out of bed.” I was startled awake by one of my roommates who seemed on edge. From what my brain understood, I was late and from the look on her face, she was pissed.

 Squinting my eyes at the sudden light from her brusque action of opening the curtains, I groaned. Her heels hitting the floor made my ears ring, it was too much too quickly but I wasn’t going to say anything. The ginger girl was stopped dead in her track by a hand on her shoulder, a softer voice spoke, “Come on Nami, look at her. Clearly, she went to sleep late again, give her some time to clear her head.” Robin said a lot calmer. With a small smile, she gave me a nod and pushed Nami out of the room.

 “You have ten minutes at best, hurry up. She has plans today.”

“And I am hungry, could you make me a sandwich while I get dressed Robin?” I asked with the softest pleading eyes I could manage at this hour. She smiled knowingly in return and nodded, but did not leave until she added, “It’s the last time you leave crumbs on the counter from your midnight snacks.”

 With wide eyes, I grimaced and nodded. It made her chuckle as she closed the door behind herself and left without a word.

 The moment I was left alone, I remembered the dream I was having and hurriedly got out of bed. “Nasty brain, naughty.” I mumbled while undressing. Sure, erotic dreams weren’t bad, but the fact that I had dreamt about that stranger was something entirely new. Maybe it was to be expected if we interacted more like we did last night, if we had more sessions like last night’s one. Damn, am I that needy for a good fuck? Is this what I’ve become? I thought with a huff.

 Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and all that I needed for class before leaving the room. On my way out I saw the notification that had popped on my screen, a message from the doctor but it was one from last night.

 HandSurgeon: I’ll allow you to call me doc, just because my username is not very adequate when shortened. But watch it.

 Looking at it I laughed and wrote back, albeit later than when he had sent his message.

 Edelweiss: Good morning to you too, doc. Hope you were able to catch some z’s, because of you I almost missed my class.

Edelweiss: kidding, it’s entire my fault but I want to blame it on you for the fun.

 I shoved my phone in my pocket when I heard my two friends’ voices, telling me I needed to hurry and hurry I did. I grabbed the sandwich Robin handed me and thanked her with all my heart, telling her I’d make the food tonight but she told me she’d rather not die of food poisoning at a young age.

 “Come on, I can make some things! We’ll order in, then?” I said, leaning on the counter with a grin as I took a bite of the food.

“Careful, Nami has invited her best friend tonight. He’s constantly famished, and eats a large amount of food so I’ll take you up on that offer another day. Now off you go, Nami’s waiting in her car.”

 Giving her a thumbs up I leaned off the counter and pondered, “So Nami’s cooking tonight? I see why she’s stressed out now. Anyone else coming by?” I asked quickly. Robin chuckled elegantly, her back leaning against the counter, in front of me, with her arms crossed over her chest. “He might bring one of his friends, but it all depends on his schedule. Nothing definitive yes. Now off you go!” She shooed me, smiling. Most of her classes were in the evening, and yet she woke up that early every day.

 It was also fascinating how, even when in her pajamas she looked so dignified.

 Without losing any more time, I waved her goodbye and rushed down all the flight of stairs to jump into Nami’s car. “Good morning-“ I closed my mouth when she gestured for me to shut up, pointing at her ear and at the board. Looking at the screen, she was on a call with someone but started the car without another word. I could only hear her replies, but tried not to eavesdrop. To stop myself from falling asleep, I took my phone once more and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

 I hated how it sent excitement coursing through my body. Was I remembering the thrill of last night or was I that interested in talking to him? I did not ponder the question longer and opened the app.

 HandSurgeon: Good morning Edelweiss. Are you feeling good? Physically.

HandSurgeon: We’ve barely done anything. But don’t worry, you’ll blame me later when we’ll have more fun.

Edelweiss: I’m great, a bit sore but that’s on me.

Edelweiss: don’t threaten me with a good time 😩, you can’t start the horny talk this early in the morning. How do you expect me to focus during my classes?

HandSurgeon: Haha, I’ll stop. Do you have time to talk?

Edelweiss: ominous much? But yes, I do have time to talk. Something on your mind?

 A knot formed in my stomach, I started to worry he’d say we couldn’t keep doing this. Would it be that bad? We’d known each other for so little time, it’s not like I couldn’t find someone else to fuck.

 I huffed at my own thought, I could find someone else but did they have HandSurgeon’s charisma? Unfortunately, no, I was bound to be horny for a strong doctor that I did not even know the face of.

 HandSurgeon: I got a bit too excited last night, I forgot to mention the most important info.

HandSurgeon: Those being: we can stop whenever you’d like. We can try whatever you feel comfortable trying. If you said you were ready to do something, but in the end feel like you can’t do it: tell me. You can change your mind, it works the other way around, too. You can say you want to try something even though you were against it at first.

HandSurgeon: I won’t always be up to… play but I will be willing to help you if you ask nicely. And if I’m awake.

HandSurgeon: Finally, always call me sir, during our sessions.

 I hid the relief I fell in real life, when I read all his messages. I did not want Nami to ask me what was wrong, nor who I was texting, but it was hard to hide the satisfied smile on my lips. Pursing my lips, I thought of what to answer without looking too desperate.

 Even with the thought put into it, I read my message over a few times and desperation dripped out of it.

 Edelweiss: you scared me, I thought you were going to just disappear or something. I’m good with all of this. If I can add one, be honest with me? Like, uh…

Edelweiss: If I’m being too pushy, but you’re busy, tell me, I’ll calm down haha.

Edelweiss: So… I agree to the terms, sir.

 I saw him type, then stop. Then type again, before stopping again. Had I said something bad? I was going to put my phone away when he replied.

 HandSurgeon: Good girl.

HandSurgeon: Now, I won’t be able to play tonight, but I’ll be free to text if you’d like.

HandSurgeon: It’ll give you time to rest, that way we’ll fuck you good once you’re feeling better.

 I choked on my saliva. Why was he this casual saying things like this?

 Edelweiss: I-

Edelweiss: I said don’t get me horny, the audacity you have to be that good with your words.

Edelweiss: I’ll be busy tonight too, but I’ll text you if it gets a bit boring.

Edelweiss: Also, are you not like… cutting people open or something? Why would you be awake this early with how late you went to sleep?

HandSurgeon: It’s cute how easy it is to get you flustered. Very interesting too. But I’ll stop for now.

HandSurgeon: Since you’re curious, I’m in bed. I have to meet with my intern in an hour, he’s very eager to learn.

HandSurgeon: Just like you, but maybe I find one more satisfying than the other 😉

 Staring at the screen, I hesitated and felt my cheeks heat up. I wanted to be horny and ask him for a picture, or be funny and ask him for a picture. Both could work together, but should I flirt or ask in the most stupid way possible? I was curious if he’d be willing to send anything, I’m sure it’d make my day if he did send me a picture but I did not want him to force him either. You can’t force a dom to do shit, idiot, my common sense told me.

 Edelweiss: send pic or fake.

HandSurgeon: Of my intern?

 Good fucking lord, I’m an idiot. I typed back quickly, trying to fix my stupidity.

 Edelweiss: of you in bed.

Edelweiss: maybe I’m asking for a nude? 🤔

HandSurgeon: Are you, now? What sparked that need? Do tell me. I’ll consider.

Edelweiss: I’m curious, and I wonder if you sleep dressed or not 😳

 Hit and run. That’s all I could call what I had done. I dropped that message then locked my screen and stared straight ahead, regretting sending it. I couldn’t delete it since he had probably seen in, considering we were both online at the same time. We were both staring at the conversation, craving for more, awaiting the other’s reply to weight our own answer in return.

 Covering my mouth with my hand, I rested my elbow on the small space by the window and felt my heart beat faster. I shouldn’t feel like that, I had literally fucked myself to his guidance hours ago. And yet, there was this stressed from asking him nudes. I mean, I hadn’t asked a dick pic per say… If he slept in pajamas it clearly wouldn’t be a nude, so…

 My phone vibrated in my hand, I looked down so quickly my head slipped off my hand and hit the window with a thud. “Are you good? You look nervous, do you have a final today or…” I heard Nami ask. She threw me a side glance but kept her gaze focused on the road.

 I was so focused on my own conversation; I had not realized she was done with her call. Had she been watching all of my reaction since then? No… no, probably not.

“I’m good, just need a bit of sugar.” I paused and continued casually, “Robin told me Luffy’s inviting someone tonight? Are you cooking or are you planning on ordering? They better pay their own shit, if we order in.” I grumbled, hoping to make her drop the subject.

 I needed to stay focus on what she was saying but my brain was drifting to the pending message on Discord. Fortunately, my distraction worked and she replied, “If he’s coming, I’ll make him pay the entire orders.” She scoffed as she pulled up into the parking, her eyes still focused in front of her. “He owes me, and since it’s last minute, I’ll use that against him to not pay my food.” She added. I laughed at her logic, was it really last minute if she knew he was coming since this morning? Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and opened the text.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

 While I masked my reaction, my eyes sure widened for the span of a second. On that very screen was a picture of the doctor, or more precisely, his crotch covered with just a thin blanket covering it. I could see the shape of his cock, and it made it more sinful than a full dick pic. The v shape of his lower stomach, along with the happy trail, made the whole thing hotter than it was supposed to be. Is this for fucking real? Thinking for a second it might be a catfish, I finally looked at the rest of the pic and saw a badly torn piece of paper with the word ‘Edelweiss’ scribbled badly on it.

 “Damn, who’s is this? Girl, you tapping that?” I quickly turned my phone face down and looked at Nami with what probably looked like guilt. “What? No. I’m on Twitter. I don’t have time to literally fuck around, too busy.” I stated, putting my hand on the door handle as I took hold of my bag.

 She was about to say something else, but we spoke at the same time and she let me talk. “What time do you finish? I’ll be done around 5 pm if you’re still there.” I stepped outside the car and slammed it shut, waiting for my ginger friend to join me.

“Around that time too, we’ll head right back home after. I think Luffy and his annoying friend will already be there. I’ll sent you the menu, so that you can pick from it.” She then hurried off when she saw one of her classmates waving her over.

 I let out a sigh and looked back at my phone, typing back while marching towards my class.

 Edelweiss: Are you kidding me? Dude…

HandSurgeon: I’d prefer you call me doc than dude. Although sir is the most appealing… But what’s wrong?

Edelweiss: You’re telling me, someone that hot is on weird websites when I’m sure anyone would want to fuck you. No offense, but you’re probably very hot, so why are you like… domming online? Instead of your own pretty little sub in real life? Not that I’m complaining! I like it.

HandSurgeon: Schedule is shit. And I’ve been told I’m bitter. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it, I’ll get dressed now. You focus on your class.

Edelweiss: Oh I am definitely enjoying it, a lot.

Edelweiss: by the way, I came to a realization this morning…

 Then we sent a message at the same time, I laughed nervously.

 HandSurgeon: So you think of me when you sleep? Very cute.

Edelweiss: my brain was slow last night, but like. Did you sext me while in your office?

Edelweiss: maybe I did think of you in my sleep, but I don’t think we need to talk about that, my question is definitely more important.

 I almost tripped over nothing, from looking at my phone instead of the path but I managed to make my way to class without a hitch. Throwing my bag over the desk, I sat down and waited for my professor. Checking Discord once more,

 HandSurgeon: I did. It’ll happen a lot too.

Edelweiss: damn that means no sexy live for you

 I replied without thinking. The loudest sigh escaped my lips, what even did I mean by that? Was I really considering giving him a show? What was I expecting from telling him that? I mean sure, if time goes on and I get more comfortable it could be fun…

 HandSurgeon: If that day comes, I’ll be sure to get my earphones. I’m sure you’d actually enjoy the thrill of showing yourself off. Knowing full well I’m watching, maybe with a hand in my pants, ordering you around. There will be a “sexy live”, if you’re comfortable enough… The fact that I’m in my office only adds to the charm. Wouldn’t you say?

 I blinked a few times, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I typed something then deleted it. I paused and typed again, before deleting it once more. Was he wrong? It was very exciting, just thinking about it. Even more so knowing he was willing to be in that situation, at his desk, looking at me getting off under his command. But also, even more knowing he’d be at his work place, where anyone could walk in on him being in such an embarrassing situation.

 HandSurgeon: It looks like you’re speechless. But do answer me, would you get off on knowing someone could walk in? Knowing we could get caught, knowing they could see you fucking yourself on screen just for me. Just to please me. They wouldn’t know it’s you, but you’d know. My good girl fucking herself, showing off her perfectly fuckable body just for me.

 I let my head fall back against the seat and took a deep breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, even though I knew no one knew what was going on, on my screen. And yet, I had to look around to make sure before typing with a lot of hesitance. He hit the spot, I hated how right he was. But I replied in all honesty.

 Edelweiss: …

Edelweiss: yes…

Edelweiss: I’d like that…. sir…

Edelweiss: I need to focus on my class, but now I don’t know if I’ll be able since you just went off and made me very much distracted now.

HandSurgeon: My hand slipped.

Edelweiss: the  a u d a c i t y, then do tell me where it’ll slip next time 😉

Edelweiss: ok, no. that was bad. I’m trying, I’m not as good as you okay?

HandSurgeon: I think it’s a conversation best kept for late hours, wouldn’t you say?

HandSurgeon: I have to go. Focus on your class, or think of where you’d like my hands to go. The choice is yours, Edelweiss.

HandSurgeon: [send an attachment]

 There it was, another picture of him. This time it was his gloved hand gripping the fabric around his thigh tightly, the sleeve of his long shirt was slightly risen. I could catch a glimpse of the hair on his arm but focused on the length of his slender fingers. Of the way his fingertips were digging in his pants, of the lines his muscles drew on the back of his hand and maybe of, once again, the fact that he was sitting at his desk. Instead of replying, I took it in and locked my screen to try and focus on the class.

 I never thought I’d have a medical kink, but my thought would sometimes drift off, imagining him in his full surgeon outfit. Sitting on his chair, legs spread open while looking at me with a smirk. What it’d look like, I do not know, but I could only imagine the sultry gaze he could give me while in that position. He’d pat his thigh for me to come over and let me ride it- Shaking the thoughts away, I told myself to focus, and tried my best to keep up to that promise.

 The rest of the day, I kept my hands off my phone the best I could. I wanted to keep texting HandSurgeon and have some fun, tease him the way he was teasing me but I did not know how to push his buttons. Suddenly I realized I had never asked what were his kinks. By default, being in control must have been one of them, but I was curious as of what else he enjoyed. I made a mental note to ask him next time we talked, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, it all depended on tonight’s fun.

 Right, tonight… I don’t even know who’s the guy that’s coming over. Nami said that Luffy’s friend was annoying but maybe she was a bit biased since she was easily frustrated, which was ironic considering her best friend was the most tiring person ever. At some point during the day, she sent me a text with the name of the restaurant we were ordering at and told me to pick whatever I wanted.

 Seeing the prices, I had to make sure she had sent me the right restaurant and sent her a text asking if it was alright. Her reply was, “I told you he owed me, he said to choose whatever restaurant I wanted. And I did. He has the money, might as well use it.”

 I winced at her words and sent her my choice with a lot of reticence, adding, “If I get yelled that for picking something, even though I don’t know the guy, you’ll pay for my food.” She was quick to reply and told me it’ll be okay. “The dude might bitch and moan about it but he’ll eventually accept it” were her words. I don’t really know if it had helped or worsened my anxiety but I just let her do her thing and went on with the rest of my day without a hitch.

 I was able to focus on my classes and assignments after a while, when my brain finally decided to shove the whole HandSurgeon conversation in the back of my head.

 The day came to an end right on time. I had done my fair share of thinking for the day and needed a break. Knowing a nice warm meal was waiting for me at my apartment only made things ten times better. I rushed out of my last class with haste, almost bumping into other people and dropping my phone but I caught it before anything dramatic could happen.

 When I stepped outside, I was met with a drizzle and had to walk faster to Nami’s car. I was lucky to see she was already there, waiting inside of it with music playing loudly. She was trying to fix her hair the best she could, and gave up when it looked half-decent. A startled gasp escaped her lips when I opened the car door and slipped inside, greeting her, out of breath.

 “You scared me!” She gasped, a hand on her chest.

“Is it my fault? You’re on edge, not me.” I huffed, throwing my bag in the back of the car, making the ginger groan when she received a few droplets on her clothes. Apologizing, I buckled my seatbelt and we drove back home in a good mood. Food always lifted spirits, even more so after a draining day. On our way home, Nami started renting on how I will have to keep Luffy’s friend away from her because she couldn’t handle his attitude.

 I did not dare ask her what happened but listened carefully. She did not give me any useful information about him, only telling me he was “arrogant, annoying, he’s bitchy and way too cocky because of his job.” I winced and was expecting the worst, probably a business man that was too proud of making money or a politician. No, no… Luffy would never befriend people like that, right?

 All kind of ideas simmered in my head until we reached our apartment. I don’t know why, but I was going to knock. I quickly caught myself and unlocked the door, hanging my coat in the entrance as I took off my shoes. “Robin? Have they arrived yet-“ I was cut off when the excited black-haired man came rushing in and wrapped his arms around both Nami and I. She laughed and hugged him back, while I pushed him away, smiling softly. “Hello Luffy, let me get changed first? I smell like a wet dog.” I scoffed.

 He agreed and pulled Nami to the side, bringing her to the living room. I did not look their way and instead went back to my room to get changed. Maybe I could catch him before he went to his evening activity? I kind of wanted to have a bit of fun before going back to eat… But then again, did I have time? Humming pensively, I locked my door and stripped naked then pulled out my phone.

 Edelweiss: Good evening, can I suggest something? I want to make my evening more fun… maybe have something to look forward to this evening…

 I waited a moment, sitting on my desk chair completely naked. It was frisky and I felt well… naked. Was it too bold? Should I just delete the message and get dressed? I did not have time to ponder longer that the little dot next to his name turned green. He had answered.

 HandSurgeon: What do you suggest? I’m all ears.

Edelweiss: let’s say… I wanted to keep something inside me the entire evening… like an egg, you know those vibrating egg but like, not turned on because that’d be too much.

Edelweiss: here, this:

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

 I made sure we could see my lower body, the hand holding the toy was right above my thighs and I angled it so he could see most of it. When I sent the picture, I felt the pressure in my stomach grow, maybe he’d refuse and I was getting excited over nothing.

 HandSurgeon: I won’t be able to guide you, gorgeous.

HandSurgeon: But… I think it’s a great idea. Although, I need to be sure you’re not too sore to have some fun tonight.

Edelweiss: I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry, I can definitely handle this. I mean, if you want to, sir.

HandSurgeon: The eagerness ever so present, you’re being very good asking for it. I would hate to punish you.

HandSurgeon: Let’s do it, if you think you can’t take it anymore send me a message and take it out.

HandSurgeon: But I’m sure a good girl like you could take it entire night, wouldn’t you agree?

 My answer was to send him a picture of the toy inside me, my free hand gripping my thigh while spreading them wider.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: Fuck. A warning next time. I’m not against more pictures, but let me remind you I’m not alone tonight.

HandSurgeon: Or is it what you’re looking for? You want to show off to me, but also to them? The odds of the people here looking at my phone are low, but they’re not null. That’s what gets you off.

 I was going to reply but he sent another message that sent something coursing straight between my legs. The throb I managed to numb after this morning’s talk came back without much efforts needed.

 HandSurgeon: Maybe to calm that eagerness, we should turn it on? Have you dripping wet for tonight? Would that help with how needy you’re feeling right now? You’d be surrounded by, let’s say your friends. But your thoughts would be nowhere near that, no.

HandSurgeon: You’ll be thinking of me. Of what I’d do to you tonight, looking forward to obey. To be on your knees, in your bed, expectant in front of your screen. Like a desperate girl, pleading for some relief.

 My hand slipped on my desk and grabbed the little remote, pressing it to turn the toy on. I let out a shaky breath at the sensation, spread my legs wider to try to press it deeper but finding my attempt fruitless.

 HandSurgeon: Get dressed, and go join your friends. I’ll be available to talk in a few.

HandSurgeon: But don’t get too greedy. If you think you’re getting close, you turn it off. I want you begging for an orgasm tonight. Are we good?

Edelweiss: Yes sir. More than good.

Edelweiss: Maybe… maybe I could call you, no video, to do it…

 He’ll ask for me to be precise. But I felt like my pride would take a hit if I wrote it down, did I want to beg? I gave it a thought while getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Usually I wouldn’t want to beg, but it felt different here. Maybe I could use this moment to find out more about him, his tastes… his kink.

 HandSurgeon: “It”?

Edelweiss: Beg. You want me to beg, I am suggesting to do it on a call. That’s what you want right? You get off on being in a position of power but what else do you like?

HandSurgeon: I’ll have you begging, no matter what. That’s the fun, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now you’re curious about what I like? We’ll talk about it after tonight’s session, right now I have to go. Have fun, be good.

 I thought it was going to be child’s play. The vibrations weren’t that strong, and it’s not like there was going to be a lot of things that’d turn me on during a friend gathering. Right? Right. It’s what I thought until I joined everyone in the living room and there stood a definition of handsome. I don’t know what Nami said about him but I’m sure she never mentioned how hot he was.

Nami, Luffy and Robin were sitting on the ground by the low table. They were taking the boxes of food from the bags and giving them to everyone. What caught my eyes was the man sitting in the couch, almost lazily. He was looking at the three people with something close to boredom, his arms spread on the back of the couch.

 Suddenly I regret trying to make my evening more fun… Or did I? I’d have to see how the evening go to make an opinion on being in the company of such a beautiful man when I had my own hardship going.

[Part 3]

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Over the years I have been asked several times why I don't post any of my stories on Adult Fanfiction. So the gist of it is basically they pulled one of my stories and then banned my account. And when I tried to contest it with how they're being incredibly hypocritical and also just in generally wrong for why they did all of that, eventually I was given a very poor apology and then I was unbanned.

So I was posting one of my stories there because someone suggested, "Hey, you have them on FFN and A03 so why don't you post in there too?" And I was like okay I mean, it's gonna take a while to get everything set up because AFFN does not keep any of the formatting I use on A03 so it would take extra work to get every specific chapter done well.

So I was posting one of my already finished works. I was 16 chapters in and every time I updated I kept getting comments telling me that I was stealing from myself essentially. Because they read it on FFN or AO3 first and eventually I went back to the 1st chapter and I added a note saying that this was posted first on FFN then AO3. I've used the same username on all sites. It's my fic no matter what anybody says about it. Get off my back.

And I suddenly got an email telling me that my story was pulled and that they banned me. All because of the rule about not mentioning other websites on their website. Specifically the rule pertains to not telling other people to check out other websites while using their website. Which I did not do.

So I tried to contest the decision by emailing them over it claiming that what I was accused of is not true. I even had a screenshot of what the first chapter looked like specifically so that when I posted about it on Tumblr, people knew what to look for. So I had the picture. And I was like, "I find it really suspicious how you just removed my story without you know, a warning, and then banned me. Yet all these other stories in the same fandom with the same ships were left up despite all these writers telling people to check out their Patreons and there Twitters. I think it's really interesting how my story was the one that was removed right off the vat with no warning."

And it took a few days but I got an email back finally telling me that they were gonna look into it a bit more, despite the fact of the story was already gone so I don't how they were gonna do that. But they were like, "If you have any proof of stories that are breaking these rules then you need to add links to verify your claims." So I did.

I had over 20 stories just in my specific fandom ship that had been there longer than mine had. Each with an author note in at least one chapter encouraging people to support them on Patreon and check out their Twitter/Tumblr/LinkedIn or things like that. And there went several days without a response, and so I checked every single one of them every single day and not only were the fics still up but the author notes asking people to support them were also still up. So I followed up that email with another saying that, "You know it's been 4 days and all these stories are still up and all the ANs are still up and I find it interesting how mine was pulled before notifying me about it. Or me being told I violated a rule."

Especially since the situations were drastically different. I mentioned how it was posted on 2 sites prior to this one. How I use the same name and that it's mine no matter what anyone says about it so accusing me if theft isn't going to work. Not the same as telling people to check out other sites.

So after several days of me checking and all of those stories not only staying up at all the ANs staying completely as they are and nothing changing, Isent a follow up email saying how I found it interesting how none of these stories are removed and none of the ANs were changed and yet my story was completely pulled without notifying me that I've broken a rule first or giving me a chance to change it. There was nothing and I got an email in return saying they had to give the other writers a few days to respond to the emails that they were sent, and I asked why I wasn't given an email and given a chance to fix my AN? wtf, right?

So after a few more days - this took like 2 weeks to go through mind you - I finally get a reply telling me that my account was unbanned and that they're sorry for the miscommunication and they can't recover my fic. That in the future just don't mention any other websites while posting my works on their website, and I replied and said, "Don't worry, I won't be posting here ever again."

They sent 2 more emails after that but I never bothered reading them and frankly I don't care to because all those stories that are breaking the rules stayed up and all the ANs remained unchanged and yet they could not recover my fic. All 16 chapters I worked on to specifically fit everything into the formatting of that website. All that effort was gone. They 'could not recover' my work and frankly I'm not going through all of this again.

So if anyone was wondering why I don't use that site this is the reason. I never will again. The account stays up so I can report people stealing my work and that's it.

[reidsexualwriting]

Only Fans (Reid/Reader)

Requested by reminiscing-writer via my ask box: But like imagine if the team gets a new agent on the team and Spencer takes literally seconds to recognize her lmao SuRpRiSe she’s an ex-porn star whose porns he was/is a huge fan of and even tho she’s Uber professional and even genius- he just can’t look her in the eyes without seeing her doing things to him lmao y did I think of this

Thank you so much for the request (and your patience with this prompt)! This fic is from Spencer's perspective, so it's a little different from what I usually write. I really liked this idea since it's a mix of crack and smut-ish stuff, so I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

Title: Only Fans Pairing: Reid x Reader Rating: M/Explicit Words: 1427 Warnings: Swearing and borderline smut-- everything in this fic is c/o Spencer Reid's imagination, so no outright sexual activity. Even as an M/Explicit work, there’s not much smut. A little sub!Reid?

I honestly thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when she walked into the bullpen, guided by Prentiss. I wasn't used to seeing her in FBI-appropriate clothing.

To be frank, I wasn't used to seeing her in any clothing appropriate for situations outside of the bedroom. I tried to be discreet while scanning her body as she shook hands with the other agents in the room.

My eyes weren't playing tricks on me, I noted as my eyes fell to her breasts. I'd recognize them anywhere. My mind wandered to a baby blue set of lingerie she'd worn in a video I'd seen. I knew I shouldn't think about her in that way, especially after seeing the badge on her left hip. I couldn't miss it with the hourglass figure.

I chastised myself in my head and tried to go back to my paperwork. I began scribbling meaningless notes in red pen on the case report in front of me while my mind continued to wander to all the times I'd seen her before-- legs spread and moaning.

After what felt like hours making pen marks and fantasizing I heard Prentiss clear her throat above me. "Reid," she said sternly, snapping me back to reality. "Reid, this is our new agent, Y/N." She gestured to the woman I had been daydreaming about. The woman held out her hand to me for a shake.

I hesitantly took her hand and shook. "It's nice to meet you Dr. Reid," she seemed to purr. "I've seen some of your lectures. I'm a really big fan." If only she knew.

I licked my lips and furrowed my brow slightly. "Thank you," I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "It's nice to hear someone appreciates my boring lectures."

"Oh they're far from boring," she mused. "They're part of what inspired me to become an FBI agent." She smiled, and I could feel myself getting hard. "And I'm definitely excited to be working with you." I felt a chill run down my spine. "And the rest of the team, of course," she added, gesturing to Emily.

I swallowed and let out a breathy laugh, looking to the floor as Emily led her to Rossi's office. How the fuck am I going to work with her when I can't even talk to her without getting hard?

Several days passed until we had a case. In that time, Y/N hadn't posted anything on any of her accounts (at least the accounts I knew about). I was almost grateful-- I thought it would make it easier to transition to seeing her as a colleague rather than an object of infatuation.

Easier said than done, I suppose. I could almost remember every frame of every video she’d ever posted, and every time I saw her in the bullpen with her lip between her teeth or the tip of her tongue barely visible, it was all I could think about-- those lips on my neck or that tongue on my cock. I dreaded seeing her in the bullpen because she wouldn’t get out of my head.

It only got worse when we got our first case. When she walked into the conference room, she was wearing a charcoal blazer with a low-cut blouse and the tightest pair of slacks I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even bother to make my usual comments as Garcia gave us the case details, because I found myself trying to catch a glimpse of her exposed cleavage every chance I could.

I couldn’t help myself. How was I supposed to focus on a case when there was a woman-- not only sexy but smart-- that I had seen naked on multiple occasions sitting across the table from me? There was a part of me that selfishly couldn’t wait to see her in the field with a bulletproof vest and a gun. Most of her pictures, videos, and streams had her acting as a submissive, but I had a feeling she was more a dominant type and just produced what appealed to the most subscribers. I’m a sucker for strong women, I guess.

The case was relatively open and shut. It didn’t take long to catch the guy, but the arrest was something else. Mainly because it was exactly like I imagined but better. I was her support during the takedown. Watching Y/N yell at an unsub and chase him down was almost erotic. I felt a little gross, but as she clicked a pair of handcuffs on him I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks and imagine what it would be like if she handcuffed me and had her way with me.

When we stepped on the jet, most of the team crashed immediately, but Y/N sat at the table with me. I worked on the case report and she had her nose in a novel I’d already read. After an hour or so, she closed her book and sighed. “Can I check out your report?” she asked out of the blue.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not finished yet,” I sputtered.

“I know,” she replied, setting the book down in the seat next to her. “I’m just curious.” She chuckled. “And I may need a couple of tips when I’m writing up my first report for the BAU.”

I smiled and handed her the report. She scanned through it at first, but then seemed to linger on a couple of paragraphs. I couldn’t see what she was so focused on, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it. I was watching her facial expressions as she quietly mouthed the words to herself with her brow furrowed. She finally handed it back. “Thanks,” she said. “Looks great. I just think you should add more to it about how much of a badass I was when I took that son of a bitch down.” Immediately after, she winked and picked her book back up. The rest of the flight was a long one.

When we touched down, Y/N offered to give me a ride home. It would mean leaving my car, but I couldn’t say no. I knew I had no chance of having sex with her, but it would at least be nice to get to know the woman I’d been jacking off to for months now.

We didn’t talk for the first few minutes of the car ride. She had her phone playing music through the AUX, and I recognized the music from one of her videos. “Have you heard this song?” she asked suddenly, glancing over at me before returning her attention to the road.

“Uh, yeah, I have,” I responded, trying to act as though I wasn’t replaying a video of her using a vibrator. “I really like it.”

I saw her grin, and it was silent for a couple seconds. “Zugzwang,” she announced, and I immediately felt panic set in. I shifted in my seat, and got ready to defend myself. “Spence,” she began (I noted the nickname), “I read your report on the plane because I had a sneaking suspicion I knew you from somewhere.”

“Well, you said you’ve seen some of my lectures,” I suggested.

She laughed quietly. “I meant in a more adult setting.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Do you know what I studied in college?” she asked. “Linguistics.” She looked over at me for half a second. “I recognized your language from the tips you sent me. Zugzwang is your username.”

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” I began, but she cut me off.

“Spencer, there’s no need to apologize. You helped pay my tuition that helped me get here. Just know that I’m a professional, and I know you are too.” We pulled up to my apartment as she finished. I felt my cheeks flush, and I went to grab my bag from the back seat. I opened the door, getting ready to step out, but she stopped me by gently grabbing my wrist. “I see how you look at me: in the office and in the field. I know this is probably out of line, but I’d love to give you some tips, too, if you’d let me.”

I was absolutely speechless as I stepped out of her car. She slipped a piece of paper in my hand and blew a kiss to me (the way she ended her streams). When I stepped into my apartment, I opened the paper to find her personal phone number with ‘xoxo’ written at the bottom. Suddenly I couldn’t wait to see her in the bullpen.

[shortprince-cos]

The Woes Of An Emo

Summary: It's about time they figure this out. All it took was a mental breakdown.

Warnings: Mental breakdown, swearing, crying, miscommunication, confusion, kissing. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

{Masterlist} {Previous}

Chapter 8: Oh That Took Way Too Long.

~~~~~

Roman sat in the corner of the dressing room, hair sticking out wildly, makeup smeared from tears, outfit crumpled, phone by his ear, and sobs shaking his entire body, but he still smiled at Virgil.

Virgil took in a shaky breath. "I-" the words got caught in his throat.

Roman's sad smile disappeared as he ended the call. "Why-" His voice cracked. "Why did you have to do that?"

Virgil felt sick. "W-What?"

Roman got a little angrier as he glared at the ground. "Why did you-you- f**k." He swore quietly. "Why did you take me on the date if you knew? You- you knew, right?"

"K-Knew?" Virgil was operating on 1% brain function at the moment; he was barely breathing.

"Knew that I liked you, knew that-that I was Prince." The tears were loose again. "Knew that you had your own boyfriend."

Now Virgil was completely lost. "What? I- I mean yeah, I knew you liked me -you told me that part- but I didn't know you were Princey! If I knew that I would've said yes!" Virgil said before he could stop himself.

Roman stopped shaking to look confused instead, tears ceasing for a moment. "...What about your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?! What made you think I had a boyfriend?!"

Roman stood to talk to Virgil better. "You said you liked someone else! A-And your phone call at the mall! You told someone you loved them!" He said defensively.

Virgil took three seconds to let that process. "That was my dad! Not my boyfriend! Are you insane?!"

"No. You are. You-you think this is funny, don't you?"

"What about this would be funny?"

"I don't know, maybe me making a fool out of myself thinking I had a chance."

"I'm not playing you, I swear."

"That's just rich, Virgil, totally believable."

"What can I say to make you believe me?"

"Nothing!"

"Why?!" Virgil was slowly losing his reasoning skills.

"Because why on Earth would anyone ever like me?! It was foolish of me to even think that you would say yes!" Roman was crying again as he yelled. "Why would you ever like me now? After seeing me like this?"

Virgil was stunned for a moment. What was he supposed to do? Roman wouldn't believe a word he said so how was he supposed to convince him?

...Well, actions speak louder then words, right?

"...F**k anxiety." Virgil walked towards Roman, grabbed him by his t-shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

...He was kissing him.

...oh my god he was kissing him.

It was at this moment when Virgil's anxiety returned, and he was about to panic and apologize when Roman grabbed Virgil's waist and kissed him back.

It wasn't how Virgil imagined it would be. It was hot and rushing, yet also nervous and gentle. There wasn't any fireworks or music in the background, just Virgil and Roman. Which was all he needed. Just the two of them. Together.

Virgil reached up to card his fingers through Roman's hair and cup his face with the other hand. He brushed his hand over Roman's cheek when he realized that Roman was still crying.

He pulled away from the amazing kiss to look at Roman. "Are you ok?"

Roman sighed. "Just...confused."

"About?" Virgil asked, still stroking Roman's cheek, making them both blush.

"Well...did you like Roman or Prince?"

"Oh- well- uh- I guess both? I mean, I've liked Princey for probably a year now so..."

"So-" Roman laughed. How could he laugh at a time like this?! "You had a crush on me, and I had a crush on you, but we never realized that we were the same people?"

Virgil let it sink in for a moment and laughed a little too. "Yeahahah we did." They both laughed together.

Until Roman wasn't laughing anymore.

He started simultaneously sobbing and laughing, his body beginning to shake again.

Virgil hugged Roman tight, slowly rocking Roman back in forth while he cried into Virgil's shoulder, raking a hand through Roman's hair, silently hoping that it was doing at least something to help.

"I'm-" Roman gasped for some air. "I'm sorry, I-I thought that-"

"Shhhhhhh." Virgil interrupted. "It's ok. I'm sorry that I was literally blind."

Roman chuckled through the tears. "We both were for awhile."

The stood there for a couple of minutes, trying to calm each other down.

Virgil looked to Roman. "How did you know anyway? That I was anxiety."

Roman looked Virgil in the eyes. "Well, heh, I heard Patton call you 'Virge' and I realized it sounded like your username...Then I realized it was a fricking pun."

Virgil chuckled again. "Yeah, I thought it was funny."

"It was." Roman smiled at him, and all Virgil could think was 'Roman. Smile. Cute.' "But I didn't want to assume, so I...I called you Hot Topic."

Virgil blushed. "Oh. Yeah, heh, I kinda just replied as a reflex to be honest."

Roman and him chuckled together again.

Roman hid his head in Virgil's shoulder again, melting into his touch.

"You ok?" Virgil asked quietly, resuming carding through Roman's hair.

"Not really, but you're helping."

"Anything else I can do?"

"Just-" Roman took a big breath. "Everyone thinks that I'm the strong one, but I can barely even handle something being...wrong with me."

"Roman, nothing is wrong with you, you're perfect the way you are."

"No, I'm not. I have all these imperfections and-and I can't fix them."

"Roman." Virgil started, looking back to Roman again. "Your imperfections are what make you you. Your imperfections, no matter what they are, make you unique, and I love that."

Roman's emerald eyes shone with tears and hope. "I love you."

Virgil blushed hard. "I-I love you too. A lot."

Roman chuckled. "Are you still one of those people who doesn't want to be my boyfriend?"

Virgil grew even more red, remembering their conversation from what felt like forever ago. "N-No." He admitted sheepishly.

Roman chuckled at him again. "Then kiss me again, Friend On The Other Side."

Virgil giggled and obliged, being in the moment for once instead of worrying about ahead. Why would he need to worry when he had everything he wanted in this moment?

All of their problems melted away as they just enjoyed having each other. Finally relaxed and content and loved.

Virgil pulled away from Roman. "What are we gonna say to Pat and Logan?"

"Why don't we just wait for them to find out?" Roman said with a teasing smirk.

Virgil laughed. "God, you're so annoying."

"You know you love me."

"Unfortunately."

Roman and Virgil continued to flirt and tease and maybe kiss some more, but whatever happened next was their moment. It belonged to them, and no one else needed to know. They were all they needed.

The End.

~~~~~

Credit to @weweregoddesses and @thefingergunsgirl for helping edit this chapter!

And here is our final chapter!!!!!!! I really hope this was a satisfying ending, I'm not very good at ending fics lol! But I want to thank everyone who wanted to read this fanfiction, this is my longest taglist so far, and the amount of people that loved this really makes me feel like I did something well. I really hope that y'all enjoyed this experience, and I promise I have more fics where this came from!

Also, I may or may not have an extra TWOAE chapter in the works...as a treat.

Once again, thank you so much! Y'all mean the world to me!!!!

Taglist in reblog

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,835 Words

Summary: Off to a chaotic start, I see. Bakugou gets dared to start a 1-A group chat. The beginnings, Shinsou gains a father figure, and the bakusquad is chaotic.

Warnings: Dead Body Mention, Death Mention, Cursing, Anxiety Attack Mention, Caps, Mental Breakdown Mention, Fire Mention, Choking Mention, Injury Mention, Murder Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Shigaraki's alias in the group chat is Ren and Dabi's alias is Haruhi. ¥11,055 is about $100 and ¥110,550 is about $1,000 on the day I wrote this.

Usernames: Area 51   Ashido: aggressive chicken dance, Kaminari: pikachoo, Kirishima: ordained, Jirou: neko neko kneecaps, Sero: wine and cheerios, Bakugou: mother i crave violence, Shinsou: its a mental breakdown

Usernames: Emo Sanctuary  Jirou: tell tale heart, Tokoyami: eldritch peep, Todoroki: i love you 3000, Bakugou: knife tag, Midoriya: bitchasaurus, Shinsou: unhappy meal, Kuroiro: meth and deadamine, Shigaraki: depresso extra shot, Dabi: *sad kazoo*

Into The Group Chat We Go: Chapter 1

1:45 AM

Emo Sanctuary

i love you 3000: I require attention.

unhappy meal: is that so?

i love you 3000: Yes, it is, otherwise I wouldn't have said it.

unhappy meal: @bitchasaurus, your man is sad.

bitchasaurus: He's not my man, Shinsou. Pretty sure he's no one's man, actually. And it's not like I'd have time for a relationship anyway.

i love you 3000: True. I'm not in a relationship.

unhappy meal: regardless, get your friend. the man wants attention.

bitchasaurus and i love you 3000 are now offline

*sad kazoo*: I dare someone to start a group chat with 1a and say something weird.

knife tag: Would I get paid for this?

*sad kazoo*: I'll give you anywhere from 11,05 yen to 110,550 yen.

knife tag: Deal.

2:00 AM

Bakugou has started a group chat

Bakugou has added Hanta, Mina, Eijiro, Denki, and 15 others to the chat

Bakugou has renamed the group chat to Area 51

Bakugou: His body is ready to be taxidermied. It's what Shinsou would've wanted.

Sero: What the fucketh?

Aoyama: Quoi?

Midoriya is now online

Midoriya: You didn't add Shinsou, you ass.

Bakugou: Oops, fuck.

Bakugou has added Shinsou to Area 51

Shinsou: hi I guess.

Aoyama: So your corpse is not being stuffed by Bakugou at the moment?

Shinsou: I mean, he can always taxidermy me while I'm alive. it's not like I'd stop him.

Midoriya: He's not. Kacchan was dared with cash to start this group chat and say something weird. Goodnight, filthy heathens.

Midoriya is now offline

Ojiro: Wow, Midoriya isn't messing around.

Aoyama: I feel ✨insulted✨ being called a filthy heathen.

Ojiro: I mean, it is an insult, Aoyama.

Aoyama: Yes, Ojiro, I understood that.

Sero: Why on earth are you two awake?

Ojiro: Because I can't sleep?

Aoyama: I got hungry.

Sero: Well, go to bed.

2:15 AM

Emo Sanctuary

knife tag: It's done.

knife tag: chatscreenshot.jpg

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to knife tag

*sad kazoo*: Your money's pending to whatever card is attached to your number.

knife tag: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

eldritch peep: wow, you really sent him 11,055 yen?

knife tag: This man's out here fueling my savings since UA instituted the no job rule since the dorms went into effect.

unhappy meal: they instituted a no job rule!? that's why I got that paper!? I thought that was a joke!

*sad kazoo*: Better put in a two weeks, kid.

unhappy meal: I literally can't. if I don't work, I don't have a way of feeding myself!

*sad kazoo*: Can't you ask your parents to send you food money, Toshi?

unhappy meal: okay, Haruhi, I know you weren't here when we started this chat with just me, Katsuki, Shouto, and Izuku so you don't know but I literally don't have parents, man. I lived in an orphanage until the beginning of the school year and, after I got in, I began renting an apartment near the school so I could attend. which means I'll lose my apartment where my cat and dog stay and it has all my stuff in it too.

tell tale heart: He's having an anxiety attack, someone go get him. I don't know where his room is.

meth and deadamine: I'll check on him.

knife tag: On my way.

eldritch peep: I'm coming, hold on.

*sad kazoo*: I've finally become a father at 28. I knew this shit would happen eventually.

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to unhappy meal

*sad kazoo*: That's your monthly allowance. Do whatever you want, kid.

unhappy meal: I'm gonna cry.

unhappy meal: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

meth and deadmine: You got 110,550 yen!? Haruhi out here paying kids to exist.

*sad kazoo*: That sounds weird, don't say that. I'm here because I'm Ren's best friend and Ren is Izuku's brother. I've effectively adopted both Katsuki and Hitoshi, I'm not sending random kids money for no reason, they're my sons.

eldritch peep: Ignore him, Kuroiro likes making things sound weird. How does it feel to be a father, Haruhi?

*sad kazoo*: Fatherhood? Guess that means I need to shape up and be a dad, huh?

eldritch peep: Step the fuck up, Haruhi.

*sad kazoo*:  I am, I am. Toshi, kid, don't cry or whatever, everything's gonna be fine.

unhappy meal: thanks, dad.

*sad kazoo*: My heart hurts. Why does it hurt? What the fuck is this feeling?

knife tag: It's called pride. It's because you're happy.

*sad kazoo*: This child is mine now, I'm going to find a way to legally adopt you.

unhappy meal: that would actually be really cool if you did.

*sad kazoo*: Looks like I'm re-evaluating my life tonight so I can make it hospitable for a son. I'm gonna go see if I can figure out how to fix some shit. Night, kids.

knife tag: hitoshicryingabouthavingadadnow.vid

Transcript Begin

"Hito, it's okay." -eldritch peep

"I have a dad now, Fumi." -unhappy meal

"We know, Shinsou." -meth and deadamine

"I have a dad." -unhappy meal

"Time to sleep, Toshi." -knife tag

"Okay. Time to sleep." -unhappy meal

Transcript End

*sad kazoo*: I love my son. Take care of him.

8:25 AM

Area 51

Ashido: ALERT- MY ALARMS DIDN'T GO OFF, PLEASE STALL AIZAWA FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES

this message has been marked as an emergency

Shinsou: On it.

8:40 AM

Area 51

Ashido: What'd you do to distract him, Shinsou?

Shinsou: Oh, gave myself an anxiety attack.

Ashido: SHINSOU!

Shinsou: It was an emergency! You'd be in detention right now if I hadn't. plus I had one last night too so it wasn't hard to do.

Ashido: Shinsou, don't ever do that for me again but thank you. You're getting big bakusquad hugs at lunch.

Shinsou: It's not like it was difficult. I got lots to break down about.

Ashido: Me too, bitch.

4:00 PM

Area 51

Shinsou has changed their name to its a mental breakdown

Ashido: Oh my god, Shinsou.

its a mental breakdown: I figured while I'm at it.

Ashido: Speaking of at it.

Ashido has changed Kaminari's name to pikachoo

Ashido has changed Jirou's name to neko neko kneecaps

Ashido has changed Sero's name to wine and cheerios

Ashido has changed Bakugou's name to mother i crave violence

Ashido has changed their name to aggressive chicken dance

Kirishima: Could you not think of one for me?

aggressive chicken dance: More like can't decide.

Kirishima has changed their name to ordained

pikachoo: You're ordained, Kiri?

ordained: Yeah. I got ordained for my moms' wedding in a few months.

pikachoo: So cool, dude.

ordained: Oh, Shinsou, dude, you said you had an anxiety attack last night, you good, man?

its a mental breakdown: one sec.

4:05 PM

Emo Sanctuary

unhappy meal: can I talk about it, Zuku?

bitchasaurus: Yeah, why not? Because it involves Ren? It's not a big deal, Hitoshi!

unhappy meal: just making sure, some people don't like their personal lives talked about by other people.

bitchasaurus: I don't mind, Hitoshi.

4:09 PM

Area 51

its a mental breakdown: alright. so we had a chat from right after the sports festival with just me, Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki which became an emo chatroom when we added Tokoyami, Jirou, and Kuroiro.

its a mental breakdown: And then Midoriya got in contact with his older brother, Ren and added him and Ren's best friend Haruhi to the chat because he wanted to show off Ren but Ren didn't feel comfortable talking without Haruhi lurking in the chat.

its a mental breakdown: you guys probably don't know but I was an orphan from a really really young age because my parents died when I was young and my other family members didn't want me. and at the beginning of this year, when I got into UA, I moved out of the orphanage, got an apartment close to campus and all, I'd had a job for two years prior.

its a mental breakdown: and last night, Haruhi gave Bakugou 11,055 yen as a dare to start this chat. then Bakugou and Haruhi were talking about the no-job rule because of the dorms and I'd thought it was a joke when I got the paper so I didn't have anything saved up and I don't exactly have parents I can ask for money if I need to buy food and I'm definitely not asking my friends and bothering them.

its a mental breakdown: I mean, I have enough I could coast for a month or two without pay but I feel like Aizawa would kill me for not eating right.

its a mental breakdown: anyway, I had my anxiety attack, Haruhi sent me money, Kuroiro made a sentence creepy like always, and Haruhi called me and Bakugou his sons. him, Jirou and Tokoyami joked about him being a dad for a bit and then he actually told me when I went back online that he wanted to legally adopt me.

mother i crave violence: Thus why I didn't wake up Pinky this morning. I was busy in the Gen Ed dorms with my new brother.

its a mental breakdown: I will have another breakdown, don't tempt me.

ordained: Shinsou, man, that's so awesome! You have a dad! We should have a party for Shinsou getting a dad!

its a mental breakdown: if it makes you guys happy then go for it but if you go crazy with the party again. we already had the incident on my birthday, we're not having another.

Asui: What incident, kero?

its a mental breakdown: Kirishima's hair got set on fire at some point, Sero got tangled onto the railing of my balcony and was hanging from my fifth floor apartment's balcony railing, Mina choked on a piece of burnt tofu, Kaminari slipped in the bathroom and fell into the full bathtub where he then electrocuted himself, Bakugou got his face shoved into the cake and sat in the corner pouting while my cat Ume and dog Anzu tried to eat the cake off his face for the rest of the night, Jirou got lost inside my apartment building, and I hit my head on the counter and had a concussion for a week.

Hagakure: Why is your friend group so chaotic?

mother i crave violence: I like to think I've cultivated a well-functioning group of chaotic demons. At least if one of us is doing something dumb, usually the rest will either follow or do something dumb of their own.

neko neko kneecaps: I'd like to plead innocent as well as shift majority blame to Midoriya's friend group because I just know those idiots could and would collectively kill and hide a body and nobody would ever know it was them.

Midoriya: Bold of you to assume we haven't already.

neko neko kneecaps: Yeah, hi, mom, pick me up, I'm afraid of Midoriya again.

Midoriya: You can run, Jirou, but you can't hide.

neko neko kneecaps: You can't kill me, Bakugou would be sad!

Midoriya: You may live...for now.

neko neko kneecaps: Oh, thank the gods.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka

[hermannsthumb]

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!! 

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

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.