#Derek Moulds

[mariocki]

Play for Today: Come the Revolution (BBC, 1977)

"You see, heavy irony is good, so long as it's so heavy we know it's irony."

"Right, we'll change it for Sunday."

"Medical inspection bit, solid fun. And the RSM bit, especially the wig joke: that's universal."

"Oh! We thought that was corny."

"No!"

"We couldn't think of anything else."

"Corny's very useful to us. It gets straight through to the people. They like corn, recognise it."

[writersblockedx]

A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

[kevin-winfield]

Neil Josten & Seth Gordon - Mirror Image?

EC, Nora Sakavic// Blue Iris, Mary Oliver// The Moon in the Well, Sylwia Górak// Blessing, Mia Bergeron// The Illusion Of Calm, Derek Hare//Hydrangeas, Susan Ashworth// moony moonless sky’s ‘i am an observer, but not by choice’, fatima aamer bilal//The Foxhole Court//Sunlight Breaking Through, Christopher Osborne// The Sirens, John Langstaff// Sydney Mortimer Laurence// ‘i am your mould, but the shape of you is true absence, leaving me purposeless.’ fatima aamer bilal

[multifandommilfs]

Plan No Longer

Pairing: Addison Montgomery x reader

Wc: 1305

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Thanking @walshies for the side pics, they are my main inspiration :D

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You were planning. You told yourself you were ready, but your heart was still planning, causing your fingers to toy perpetually with the little velvet ring box in your coat. 

 

Addison was just beside you as the waves lapped at the beach, the horizon moulding into one with the sky, dark and vast, they stretched out beyond your eyes could fathom, unpredictable. 

 

You felt the silky texture beneath your fingertips, your heart beating raggedly in your chest. Addison let out a content noise resembling a purr as she sank into the beach chair, her left hand, fingers ringless and bare, folded easily with yours like a thousand times before. You wondered if she would still look at you the same way tonight, after you asked her the most important question of your life.

 

Your mind whirred back to when she first held your hand, though you couldn't quite remember anything except for the feeling of warmth running through your veins. Your chase for the memory led you back to when you first met her.

 

Unpredictable was when you met Addison. 

 

It was a busy day at Seattle Grace Hospital, people were rolling in on stretchers, and the bus-car accident was to blame. You knocked your way through multitudes of nurses and doctors, breath in your throat. Your pager was incessant. It's pace felt faster even with every stretch your legs made to the OR for your unscheduled neurosurgery.

 

Your feet trampled down the flight of stairs, not bothering to take the stretcher-packed elevators. "Page Addison Montgomery!" Was the first thing you heard at the scrub station.

 

"Sorry?!" You hollered, and Derek whipped his head towards you so harshly that you were afraid his brain-deep hands might hit something important. "Page Addison Montgomery! The patient is pregnant, and she's haemorrhaging! Page her! " 

 

"Page her yourself, Shepherd! I've never worked with pediatrics!" You rushed over, perspiration already forming on your forehead as you took over his position and requested O blood bags when the ECG monitor began to hasten evidently. 

 

"She's going into V-Fib L/n! Administer-" 

 

"Shepherd, call that paediatrician now!" Your voice rose, forcing him to relent his role. "CPR, oxygen, charge up the defibrillator. "You delegated the job to nurses as you started to control the haemorrhage. 

 

It felt like forever before the said paediatrician finally barged into the OR, panting and tired. She immediately captured your line of sight as she put up all the necessary lines and monitored the baby as if she were only working on muscle memory, as if you weren't doing the same right now, watching her and suturing, letting the needle glide through the skin from right to left.

 

With the Dura mater sutured closed, you moved onto the scalp. The race in your heart was for a completely different reason, and it may or may not have to do with the utterly stunning woman before you.

 

"How's the mother's progress?" The new voice made your heart swoon and your eyes flicker upward to catch her blazing red hair. No matter, the forceps in your hands remained steadfast, just like how you were trained to have your head clear and precise during panic. Your eyes averted back to your hands. Her eyes were a ladened weight on you.

 

"I've stopped the bleeding and her BP is steady."You notified her of what you knew, though you weren't sure if another v-fib might trigger due to her pregnancy.

 

"But?" Her question made you scrutinize her before she shrugged. "I know that mildly concerned tone, I've used it myself." She gave you a smile, proud of herself for analysing you.

 

You let out an impressed scoff and told her what you assumed would happen as she listened more intently than any doctor you've ever met, her teeth baring slightly to take in her lower lip. You glanced away as you finished closing the patient up, hurrying to scrub out as fast as possible because the woman in front of you was causing a wreck in your previously tranquil train of thoughts.

 

She had a skip in her steps when she met you at the scrub station. Turning on the faucet, she spoke, "I'm aware you don't know who I am." You focused on washing the soap off your arms. "That's charming, am I supposed to?" 

 

Her brows raised a touch at your sarcasm before the realisation hit her."No! No, no! That's totally not what I meant. I-I'm not egotistical or narcissistic or whatever you think I am now—I mean I kind of am, all surgeons are, but like- " She stopped mid-sentence, mentally kicking herself for being an awkward, stuttering mess. "I only wanted to make small talk or... whatever." 

 

You dried off your arms, leaning against the sink as you surveyed her. She looked away, a tint of blush rising up her cheeks. You smiled, yielding to your wants. "Would that whatever be something like...a date?" 

 

Her gaze whipped over to you, red high on her cheekbones. She wrung her hands and untied her surgical cap, freeing her hair over her shoulders in an elegant shake of her head. "If you want it to be." 

 

You inched closer, lips pursing in faux contemplation. "I don't think I want it." Her smile faltered.

 

"I think I'll need it to be a date." You gushed before she could turn away, or worse, apologise. 

 

Her eyes sparkled genuinely. "Addison Montgomery." 

 

The next four months were history.

 

Until right now. Right now, you hold the future in your hands. And you didn't know whether to be excited or nervous about it.

 

You coughed, trying to unlodge the hesitation in your throat, which garnered Addison's attention. "Are you cold?" She asked, but she was already slipping off her sweater to drape it around your frame. 

 

Just like that, there was no more hesitation, no more blue-screen in your heart. You took a full moment to register it—your heart was actually ready after weeks of reluctance at how much detail she noticed about you.

 

"Y/n, are you-" 

 

"Willyoumarryme?" The words just tumbled past your lips without prior warning. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Marry me. Marry me." You scrambled, clumsily to your feet, still grasping her hand. "I know there's no fancy lights, no candlelit dinner but- that's my everyday with you; you are my fancy lights, you are my candlelit dinner, you are- you are everything I could possibly have-" 

 

"I-" she stammered, tears pooling in her irises. For a moment, your lower lip trembled when it faced the possibility of rejection. Perhaps she wasn't ready, just like Yang and you were Burke, too fast. Your heart sank and sank and sank, falling so deep into the pits of your stomach that you let your tears coat your vision. 

It took a while moment and you thought you lost at life.

 

Then her signature smile ran across her lips and stayed there, tears slipped from her crinkled eyes. "You're asking me to marry you." A statement you nodded fervently to, and your heart was already soaring seeing her happiness. "You're asking me to marry you!" High-pitched, she laughed, like bells ringing, and launched herself to you, toppling the both of you right into the sand. 

 

Your laughter trailed hers until your chest hurt, so you just gripped her tightly, everything you have, needed and wanted, all in one handful. "I'm asking you to marry me." You let out an amazed breath, not quite believing yourself for being so lucky.

"We're married," she breathed, looking at you in wonder. "I'm married to you." It was a feeling that was all too surreal at the same time that something clicked perfectly in her life.

 

The ring, a merely a symbol of marriage, was forgotten. The truth of it was that you were already wearing your marriage on your hearts.

[teenwolf-confessions]

(extension to add on to confession about characters being shipped with everyone)

Cuz it happens a lot with some in Teen Wolf. Like for eg. we know Lydia would never date Theo or Derek or something or we know Liam would never date Scott or Stiles or we know Stiles would never date Jackson etc.

That’s because they’re relatively well written characters, like you have a grasp on who they are and what they’re into or not into. Whereas if a character can get shipped with anyone, it’s kind of a sign that theyre shit characters cuz they can just mould with anyone, like they’re some sort of tool.

I see people talk about how certain characters are very ‘shippable’ and it’s like mate that’s not a good thing

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 34 – Defekt by Nino Cipri

This is the second book of Cipri’s I’ve read, and I enjoyed it significantly more than Finna. Which still isn’t falling in love with it, if I’m being honest, but I’m not at all annoyed I read this one. The overall impression is kind of like watching the kind of rough pilot to an indescribably cheesy by fun adventure serial? Up to you how harsh a discretion that seems.

The story shares a setting with Finna – as in, it’s set literally in the same story, less than a week after. It follows Derek, a special exempt employee of the suspiciously Ikea-like retail megacorp who started a few weeks before, lives in a shipping crate behind the store’s loading dock, and has no memory of ever leaving store property. After he calls in and takes his very first sick day (a coworker saw him basically collapse while assembling furniture and browbeat him into it), his extremely disappointed manager has him come in late to help the outside team with a ‘special inventory’. The outside turns out to be, well, alternate universe versions of him – variations on the same mould, all mass produced in some of the controlled alternate realities the company’s insourced its production and logistics hubs too. The ‘special inventory’ likewise turns out to be a bug hunt, hunting down and killing all the products that have mutated or come alive due to glitches in their production before they have a chance to escape or damage company property.

The plot goes more or less how you’d expect – the alternate Derek’s are a queer and quirky band of likeable misfits (one might even say a found family!), except for their leader who is a monster convinced that if he’s enough of an abusive hardass to the others corporate will see ow valuable he is. The Defekta turn out to be basically benevolent, and Derek turns out to be defective himself, with literal magic empathy and enhanced senses and an involuntary sort of broadcast telekinesis when he’s dealing with strong emotions (which sounds like literal actual hell to me, for the record).In the end the shitty direct supervisor is trapped in an alternate reality, and everyone else unionizes and holds the store hostage until the company caves to their desired reforms Happy ending for everyone!

I’m not sure if it’s intentional or just an artifact of how Cirpri came up with the idea, but the whole ‘taking place literal days after the last book’ thing very much does make it seem like either this one Midwestern store in particular or possibly the company as a whole is like 90% of the way there to spiralling into a complete metaphysical collapse and possible destroying the world. The one scene with Jules at the start of the book also honestly made me like her more than the entire previous book where she was literally the second most important character and on like every other page.

I do think the kind of absurdist corporate horror setting worked better in this book than the prequel, if only because it was a bit more restrained and picked the one aesthetic/setting to actually develop a bit. Having a little bit more edge helped too. Reagan as the polished-until-she’s-glass always upbeat and friendly corporate upper management definitely worked as a more sinister and threatening figure than absolutely anyone in Finna, at least. I do still think the corporate jargon was like 20% too over the top and obvious to really work as satire or horror and just, well, not really funny enough to work as comedy. But that’s probably just a matter of taste

Speaking of funny – I’m not sure whether the megacorp in this is transparently specifically Ikea instead of something more generic (or, like, Wallmart) – Cipri spent some shitty years working at one, maybe. But given literally everything else about the book’s politics, it is kind of surprising how many times the books go back to the ‘look, this thing’s name is a funny-looking foreign word!’ well for humour. Or, well, ‘humour’.

Derek’s whole character arc from enthusiastically brainwashed retail drone to radicalized monster-whisperer was perhaps a bit abrupt, but it worked for me overall. The rest of the inventory team were all pretty much just archtypes with character designs attached, all basically being exactly what you would expect – the only real ‘reveal’ is that Dirk the supervisor isn’t the longsuffering professional leader trying to wrangle the rest of them and get the job done, he’s just an abusive piece of shit the rest of them actively fantasize about murdering – but none of them are, like, offensive.

The themes are, look, they’re really on the nose. There’s no way around it. Derek is so repressed and out of touch with/incapable of expressing his real emotions that his throat splits open and grows a second mouth that starts psychically broadcasting them. There are multiple conversations where people just explain their characters. There’s an interstitial bit of corporate propaganda between chapters about the risks of employees being radicalized by alternate universes into union organizers shortly before the main characters force the company to give them better treatment by sitting down and threatening to hold the store hostage the night before a big product release. And so on.

Still, I honestly enjoyed the read? Very possible my expectations were just lowered enough enough by the first one that I could just take this as it was, honestly, but still. Largely insubstantial popcorn, but not popcorn I regretted spending a few hours on.

[sleepyiswhumping]

🩸🌙🧄

The characters answering are going to change throughout, I'll note this as it happens

C - Cassius - Vampire, Whumper

T - Talbot - Vampire, Whumpee

D - Derek - Human, Vampire Hunter/Pet Whumpee + Bloodbag

Content: Creepy Whumper, Pet Whump, Vampire Whumper, Vampire Whumpee

~~~~~~~~~~

🩸 - what do you think of humans?

C: Oh, they're just delightful little ants. Stupid, weak, but adorable. Tasty, too. Some fawn over us, as they should, willingly giving themselves to the superior specimens. I don't find those humans nearly as fun as the fighters. You know, those so-called "hunters". As if we're their prey. Ha! I love them. Tearing them down, crushing their minds into putty so I can mould them as I please. Yes. Humans are wonderful little creatures.

🌙 - what would you do first if you could escape?

T: I have escaped, several times from several horrid situations. Every time, the first thing I did after regaining my freedom was seek out a source of blood. Hunters, and the Lords of Silver especially, were very fond of starving their vampiric prisoners. After I regained some of my strength, I found safe, hidden places to rest and heal. If I were captured again, however, my first goal would be to attempt to return to Garrett and Alex. I wouldn't want to worry them more by prolonging my disappearance.

🧄 - what weakness do you exploit the most against vampires?

D: Personally, I take advantage of silver to the utmost degree. Silver piercings all over my body, rings, anklets, bracelets, a necklace. It's very easy to detect vampires using the rings. Only the most resistant, self-disciplined vampires can ignore the agony of silver contacting their flesh. Usually, it's a dead giveaway. Getting to my neck and wrists is difficult given the bracelets and necklace of pure silver. My blades and bullets are also silver, to kill the creatures efficiently.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you, again, to @whumpninja for this awesome ask game! These questions are phenomenal, Jack.

And thank you, @stalecabbage for the ask! <3

[ao3feed-peterstiles]

What if all I need is You?

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51433918 by berryypup Peter didn't expect to hear from anyone after the move. Stiles defied those expectations. — In a rush of lights and a long, drawn-out moment that borders on slow-motion, he catches him in the perfect moment between unspoken eagerness and plea, lips interlocking tight, Stiles′ mouth moulding against his own as if he never belonged anywhere else. Bourbon, lemon juice, and the lingering scent of his nephew, curl around him in a daunting reminder of hazied senses, but Peter couldn't care less. Not at this point in time. Not anymore. Words: 2336, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (mentioned) Additional Tags: Adult Stiles Stilinski, Pack Alpha Peter Hale, Infidelity, Small Towns, Bars and Pubs, Married Stiles Stilinski, Jealousy, Post-Canon Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51433918

[mirandamckenni1]

Liked on YouTube: The Most Misunderstood Concept in Physics || https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxL2HoqLbyA || One of the most important, yet least understood, concepts in all of physics. Head to https://ift.tt/YpZQVdA to start your free 30-day trial, and the first 200 people get 20% off an annual premium subscription. If you're looking for a molecular modeling kit, try Snatoms - a kit I invented where the atoms snap together magnetically: https://snatoms.com ▀▀▀ A huge thank you to those who helped us understand different aspects of this complicated topic - Dr. Ashmeet Singh, Supriya Krishnamurthy, Dr. Jos Thijssen, Dr. Bijoy Bera, Dr. Timon Idema, and Dr. Misha Titov. ▀▀▀ References: Carnot, S. (1824). Reflections on the motive power of heat: and on machines fitted to develop that power. - https://ift.tt/PL18msI Harnessing The True Power Of Atoms | Order And Disorder Documentaries, Spark via YouTube - https://ift.tt/LWQn4tD A better description of entropy, Steve Mould via YouTube - https://ift.tt/wbLRz3G Dugdale, J. S. (1996). Entropy and its physical meaning. CRC Press. - https://ift.tt/Lo0rJyi Schroeder, D. V. (1999). An introduction to thermal physics. - https://ift.tt/j3NPqgX Fowler, M. Heat Engines: the Carnot Cycle, University of Virginia. - https://ift.tt/sjaGDf1 Chandler, D.L. (2010). Explained: The Carnot Limit, MIT News - https://ift.tt/92Fctxv Entropy, Wikipedia - https://ift.tt/nAl3rRY Clausius, R. (1867). The mechanical theory of heat. Van Voorst. - https://ift.tt/mxwn6Is What is entropy? TED-Ed via YouTube - https://ift.tt/7roF5lg Thijssen, J. (2018) Lecture Notes Statistical Physics, TU Delft. Schneider, E. D., & Kay, J. J. (1994). Life as a manifestation of the second law of thermodynamics. Mathematical and computer modelling, 19(6-8), 25-48. - https://ift.tt/B2H3aSk Lineweaver, C. H., & Egan, C. A. (2008). Life, gravity and the second law of thermodynamics. Physics of Life Reviews, 5(4), 225-242. - https://ift.tt/2FfMCLX Michaelian, K. (2012). HESS Opinions" Biological catalysis of the hydrological cycle: life's thermodynamic function". Hydrology and Earth System Sciences, 16(8), 2629-2645. - https://ift.tt/WPv5c3z England, J. L. (2013). Statistical physics of self-replication. The Journal of chemical physics, 139(12), 09B623_1. - https://ift.tt/nRtKjsI England, J. L. (2015). Dissipative adaptation in driven self-assembly. Nature nanotechnology, 10(11), 919-923. - https://ift.tt/GkOohNM Wolchover, N. (2014). A New Physics Theory of Life, Quantamagazine - https://ift.tt/aUZxyEV Lineweaver, C. H. (2013). The entropy of the universe and the maximum entropy production principle. In Beyond the Second Law: Entropy Production and Non-equilibrium Systems (pp. 415-427). Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer Berlin Heidelberg. - https://ift.tt/cQAa6ur Bekenstein, J.D. (1972). Black holes and the second law. Lett. Nuovo Cimento 4, 737–740. - https://ift.tt/w9Bs4OW Carroll, S.M. (2022). The Biggest Ideas in the Universe: Space, Time, and Motion. Penguin Publishing Group. - https://ift.tt/QAodeJE Black hole thermodynamics, Wikipedia - https://ift.tt/YDadyIz Cosmology and the arrow of time: Sean Carroll at TEDxCaltech, TEDx Talks via YouTube - https://ift.tt/kPdrb1h Carroll, S. M. (2008). The cosmic origins of time’s arrow. Scientific American, 298(6), 48-57. - https://ift.tt/j7aZHRO The Passage of Time and the Meaning of Life | Sean Carroll (Talk + Q&A), Long Now Foundation via YouTube - https://ift.tt/bm7eTFx ▀▀▀ Special thanks to our Patreon supporters: Emil Abu Milad, Tj Steyn, meg noah, Bernard McGee, KeyWestr, Amadeo Bee, TTST, Balkrishna Heroor, John H. Austin, Jr., john kiehl, Anton Ragin, Diffbot, Gnare, Dave Kircher, Burt Humburg, Blake Byers, Evgeny Skvortsov, Meekay, Bill Linder, Paul Peijzel, Josh Hibschman, Mac Malkawi, Juan Benet, Ubiquity Ventures, Richard Sundvall, Lee Redden, Stephen Wilcox, Marinus Kuivenhoven, Michael Krugman, Sam Lutfi. ▀▀▀ Written by Casper Mebius & Derek Muller Edited by Trenton Oliver & Jamie MacLeod Animated by Mike Radjabov, Ivy Tello, Fabio Albertelli and Jakub Misiek Filmed by Derek Muller, Albert Leung & Raquel Nuno Molecular collisions video by CSIRO's Data61 via YouTube: Simulation of air Additional video/photos supplied by Getty Images, Pond5 and by courtesy of NASA, NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center, NASA Goddard Flight Lab/ CI Lab, NASA/SDO and the AIA, EVE, HMI, and WMAP science teams. As well as the Advanced Visualization Laboratory at the National Center for Supercomputing Applications, B. Robertson, L. Hernquist Music from Epidemic Sound & Jonny Hyman Produced by Derek Muller, Petr Lebedev, Emily Zhang, & Casper Mebius

[toyahinterviews]

THE DYSPRAXIC HELP 4U PODCAST WITH BILLY STANLEY 10.10.2021

BILL: Welcome to the podcast, Toyah. How are you? TOYAH: I'm really good. Thank you very much. It's nice to have some normality back in life BILL: I must start by asking when did you learn that you were dyspraxic? TOYAH: Very early. I had a very remarkable teacher when I was in infant school and it was about my second year and she realised I was very, very bright and very creative. My very first year at school when I was four and a half, we were allowed to work with colour and crayons. So when we were taught mathematics, we had different coloured bricks, which represented numbers     I (was) top of the class at that. Then with using crayons - top of the class with that. And then when we moved to the following year when I was five people very quickly realised I could not pick up the normal standard training reading and the normal standard training of numbers. They were just gobbledygook to me

So I was put on phonetic writing - the “Janet and John” books I was given in phonetics and then I could immediately read. But once I was six, none of that was available to me. It was completely taken away and treated as if I was lazy, treated as if I wasn't making an effort. I think part of the problem was is the school didn't like me having special treatment. They didn't want me being singled out to be someone special. I went from being top of the class to the next 10 years being bottom of the class until I left BILLY: Did you have the support of your immediate family and friends? TOYAH: They didn't even support me when I was an international megastar! BILLY: Did you struggle to conform to social norms and the trials and tribulations of being neurodivergent and did having a personality suppressed throughout your mainstream education somehow mould you into the person you are today?

TOYAH: I think I felt very alone. But teenagers generally feel alone. School for me was tedious and it was boring. I should have been at a drama school where I would have excelled or a music school where I would have excelled. I just did not fit into the conservatism of my education. So I would say in answer to your question that I became quite insular and incredibly independent because of it because there was no one I could rely on There was no one I could go to and say, “why can't I do this? Why don't people listen? Why don't people see me as me?” So everything I did I was told I was wrong and I was told I was being the wrong person. So no one saw me in my true natural state and my true nature. So I think it actually made me who and what I became as a star BILLY: Dyspraxics often say that they play the fool as a means of masking our differences. Do you consider yourself to have been always the master your true persona?

TOYAH: I tell you one thing that I did do was I covered up brilliantly in social situations, where I knew what was coming because of culturally where I came from. I had a bad speech impediment and at that time I had a limp because I was born with a twisted spine and pelvic dysplasia, which is all been corrected. I knew that people were going to make a joke out of me. So I knew how to cover this up. I knew how to bluff my way. When I went to my first job interview, I just lied and I'm a great actress. So I just lied and I got the job Interestingly, the director Derek Jarman, who I did two movies with, who used to come and see me sing - he said to me “Toyah, you’re still acting”, and he understood that I had to create these layers. I think the most frustrating thing that I found - it wasn't really until I met my husband at the age of 25-26 where he was so crystal clear about my cognitive issues. Up until that point, I just went with being highly individualistic and deliberately not fitting in. But I thought that was part of my personality rather than my inner internal neural pathway wiring BILLY: Given that dyspraxia is a lifelong disability, has it impacted you more throughout adulthood? 

TOYAH: My my dyspraxia has got worse as I've got older. When I was younger, say from when I was born until I was about nine I had no idea I had disability. No idea. I led a perfectly normal life. I was being trained to be a junior ice skater alongside John Curry, the Olympian. I had a very normal life and then once my corrective surgeries started, I realised that this was a disability that was going to be with me on a certain level all of my life People made me aware of the limp, which I was never aware of and people made me aware of my speech impediment, which I was never aware of. I just thought I was being treated like the village idiot all the time, which is what culturally happened 55 years ago.    So my dyspraxia has definitely got worse as I've got older but in lockdown I found the most incredible teacher who has a military background and he studied my movement. And by studying my movement, he was able to reverse my dyspraxia so I can now play keyboards and I can now play guitar. I've written 30 odd albums and I've never been able to play one instrument There are ways of connecting those neural pathways and he did it through physical exercise. In 2000 I did the “Dore Programme” which is highly controversial. The government have tried to sweep it under the carpet. I did this for three months and went away and wrote two books. That's all about connecting and firing the neural pathways in the front cerebellum through movement. Through spinning, through disorientation and balance 

BILLY: Without the intervention of a family friend do you believe you would have gone on to achieve the career you've had? And as such did the lack of awareness and support for your respective disabilities in adolescence hold you back in some regards later in life? 

TOYAH: It's a very good question. I think if people saw and accepted and realised what was going on with the relationship between my brain development and my body growing rather than giving up on me I would have had a far more advanced artistic career. No doubt about it. But I was written off very early as purely baby making material. I never had children and I think instinctively I knew I was carrying a gene that had this disability So it's such a good question, because when I was about 14, and this is just a story of complete luck, a man that ran BBC Pebble Mill had a boat next to my parent's boat down on the River Avon. He said to my parents "you know your daughter is incredibly talented. You've got to get her out of the school system and put her in drama school" and he nominated me into the Birmingham Old Rep Theatre School. I never looked back. I just excelled! I was put in the right environment. So up until the age of 14 I was never in the right environment   BILLY: You had an early interest in dancing. Did you encounter any difficulties such as a lack of spacial awareness?

TOYAH: I took up dance when probably about 14. I earned my own money, I paid for my own dance classes. And again, anything to do with movement will trigger the neurons. What I didn't know back then was dehydration and the neurons not quite firing goes hand in hand. I was never given water at school. I drank one glass of water a day. Now I drink five litres of water a day. The brain cannot function in a state of dehydration, neither can your heart So I never knew this at school. We never had water in the classroom. We never had water available to us until lunchtime, and then again when we got home. So all of that is a perfect storm. When I was dancing and even still today, I think it's why I'm never still when I move my neurons - I can feel the fireing. I can feel my brain activate. You want to feel good, just move. We’re water, fat and electricity. So connect with all of that BILLY: Dyspraxics often struggle to learn new information at a rapid pace and have weak short term memory. We do however seem to have fantastic long term memories. Has this been the case for you?

TOYAH: It's a great question because I can give you two examples. I did a play in London called “Trafford Tanzi” about a female wrestler. I‘d pick the fight sequences up on first show. The fighting instructor, a judo Olympian showed me the fight sequences for this two and a half hour play. He never had to show me them again. They were there. When you give me a script, and I have a reading technique where I'm very, very slow but it’s there But give me a dance routine in a West End musical (Toyah in "Cabaret" in 1987, below) it takes me months because I need to connect the counting to the music score and I feel music as as a kind of heartbeat. Musicians feel music has 1234 1234. I don't feel music that way. And dancer’s choreography - they build dances through counting. It's hopeless for me. Hopeless. So I excel at some things and other things I have to find my own way in and that can take time

BILLY: Did you encounter any difficulties such as the lack of spacial awareness, poor balance and where you're also impeded by needing to wear a raised shoe? TOYAH: The thing is most of the time I wore a raised shoe on my right leg. My right leg has now been made the same length. 10 years ago I had surgery to make my right leg the same length. So when I wasn't wearing the raised shoe, my balance was affected and also my gait. Limp is called a gait and I had an emphasised gait. But again, I'm incredibly muscular so I can cover these things up But I think my movement is very individualistic. And it's not what I'd call feminine movement. It's strong movement. I move like a gymnast. I'm very, very strong and very supple, and that’s partly because my tendons are just too long for my joints. So I overextend but my movement is quite unique BILLY: You've had numerous operations in the past to help with your physical disabilities, unbeknownst to your fans and peers. Would you say it was a conscious decision and what impact does all this have on your dyspraxia? 

TOYAH: No, I wouldn't because I managed to disguise it. So up until about the age of 30 my life was pretty normal. I'd had joints removed in my toes to stop them growing and I'd had corrective surgery on my right foot when I was 11. But after that I had a relatively normal life other than I could never wear lovely shoes and still can't because I have a club foot. When I was 30 my right hip socket wasn't formed. It was a shallow socket and it developed a very bad abscess when I was 40 that hollowed out the thigh. There was a huge hole there For 21 years I had to live with that and that was done through pain control. So when I say pain control, that's physiotherapy, it's not drugs. I was allowed to carry Co-Codamol (painkiller) if I needed it, but I managed not to use it. They didn't want to do the surgery on me until the prosthetics were fully developed   So when I was 51, a very wonderful incredible surgeon called Richard Villar designed a prosthetic for me. It's very, very tiny. He took the hip joint out and put in the metal plate into my hip, pelvis, and then this tiny prosthetic goes in to the hole that the cysts formed. I couldn't walk for three months. I was off my my legs for three months while bone grew around that. And I've had a normal life since

So from the age of 30 until I was 50 I was under pain control management. That was all done through extreme muscle. I tell everyone this, if you've got joint problem problems you've got to be built like Arnold Schwarzenegger, because this muscle helps that tendon function through a dysfunctional joint. Then you can support that joint and you could probably live with it for your whole lifetime. By the time Richard Villar did my right hip he said the whole area had completely disintegrated. He had no idea how I coped and I said “I've just had to do this all my life. I know how to mask” So I found - once I had my hip replacement at 51, I'm now 63 - my dyspraxia became worse because my brain had to adjust to a different leg length so I became clumsier. And I'm now dealing with that. It has actually taken about eight years to deal with it BILLY: Is there anything in particular that you've struggled with when it comes to masking? 

TOYAH: You see it in the hands. It's a classic sign that when I'm acting and when I'm expressing my hands kind of freeze. So now I've trained my hands so you will often see me - I will not spread my fingers. I've taught myself not to do that. So my hands are always closed fingers now BILLY: I strongly believe that through dedication and perseverance one can overcome adversity to achieve success. Was there ever a time when you felt like giving up? TOYAH: I'm not someone who gives up because in my upbringing, even though my family felt they loved me, it was so unnutritious on my soul, my body and my heart. I was brought up to be a failure, everyone reflected back at me failure. So because of that I'm the toughest fighter you will ever meet. I just don't give up, I will fight to the death whatever the subject matter is. And that's partly my upbringing, because I was always told I was going to fail So when I reached 30, I had to disguise the pain. That was the biggest thing, disguising the pain, so no one knew and I think there must have been times when people wondered why I was tense rather than relaxed. It's as simple as that. I was always masking pain. There are certain things and I can only explain this through a performance. I was playing “Puck” in “Midsummer Night's Dream” about 1994 (above). So I would have been about 36 and I masked the pain by working on skateboards, roller skates and a penny-farthing so I didn't have to run 

So I could get my sweeping movements on stage by using the skateboard as a body board. So I would run in the wings, jump onto the skateboard onto my body and curve around on the stage and then stand and deliver my lines. That was a way of masking pain because I knew the pain built I could do shows but by the end of the show the pain would be building to intolerable. When I did “Calamity Jane” in the West End, which was incredibly physical - the irony of that was because it was so physical I didn't experience any pain in the whole year because I was so physically tuned up and that helped. Except on one night and an actor dropped me and it did my back in. But that’s the only time I've ever had an injury So it's been a very interesting journey and I would say to people you just don't give up. You just have to keep learning any kind of mild physical disability, which is how I say I am. Just keep working with it. You don't give up because everyone around you is is telling you to give up. You just don't BILLY: There is a common misconception in society that dyspraxia affects intellectual ability. We generally struggle to absorb information that has no bearing on our intelligence overall 

TOYAH: I'm a complete sponge. I'm ahead of everyone in the room, which I think is what confuses people so much. I'm very, very small. I have a slight lisp. I have a slight gait. My malatropisms are frequent in every sentence I say, but I'm ahead of everyone. So I think it's this super intelligence. It has absolutely nothing to do with the condition in your body. You're still intelligent. I read every newspaper every morning within an hour and maintain that information. But there are certain areas that I can't maintain information on I would never make a politician because it just makes no sense to me what politicians do. If you're not helping someone earn a living, have food on the table and be healthy you're not doing your job and as far as I can see everything politicians do is illogical and just help CEOs get big fees in big companies     So when I see something illogical and there's so much in the world that isn't logical I can't work that out. It will never make sense to me. But on other levels I have super intelligence and I don't mind patting myself on the back with that. I'm ahead of everyone in the room 

BILLY: How are you when it comes to reading between the lines both in your personal and professional life? TOYAH: I have to study myself all the time in mirrors. Going up for a part I have to change the way I move. I have to deal with the hands. I'm incredible at reading people. You get people that do face recognition for the police. I can read someone literally in five seconds because I’ve studied myself so much. So I'm a very good reader of personality traits BILLY: After many years as an actor and a musician touring, can you withstand the constant changes of the lineups and surroundings? Are longtime colleagues supportive of your neurodiversity and the way that you work? TOYAH: It's a good question because in the following week I'm working with three different groups. I've always kind of ended up with different bands. The Toyah band, what's fabulous about the band is we've been together for 18 years. They know how I need to learn something and they know when I can't learn something. They know the route in and we have kind of eye signals and hand signals on stage when I've lost the count. I anchor by the downbeat. Now, most musicians don't need a downbeat, they can work around that downbeat (makes a tsk tsk tsk noise) I need the boom, boom, boom, that's how I recognise music

So the Toyah band make that very easy for me. As a solo artist - it's important to me to be a solo artist because it's important to me to establish who and what I feel I am rather than what other people feel who and what I am. I'm not a person that lives by others opinions. And I think that makes some people … I'm difficult to be with for some people because I won't let people tread on me. It's all my upbringing, it's all survival. It's all how dare you tell me that my precious time isn't how I perceive it BILLY: Is it fair to say you're still fighting an uphill battle with acceptance and credibility as a neurodivergent woman in the entertainment industry? TOYAH: I’m fighting the war and I'm a woman and you've got that as well - being a woman in the music industry. There's quite a war going on all the time BILLY: I discovered via your blog on toyahwillcox.com that you are also dyslexic. As a fellow dyslexic myself, I am in awe of the fact that you've penned two books and have co-written nearly 30 albums throughout your impressive career to date. Have you ever felt like you've been at a disadvantage in comparison to your peers? 

TOYAH: There are some authors I will never be able to read because they have a way of thinking that I believe is brought to them through their education and it's quite an elite education. There are some authors like Stephen King - I can pick a book up and read it in two hours. But there's other authors I have to go through with a dictionary. I have to go through each paragraph three times There is an elitism in writing and because I read the newspapers - the simpler writing techniques like The Sun and The Mail - I can read those in five minutes. If I'm going to go to The Independent and The Guardian and The Observer I'm like oh, I don't understand that. So what do they mean? Why have they said that? Three sentences later, they're saying that … I just have to go over and over and over it BILLY: Do you find putting pen to paper easy and does it play a big part in your day to day life?

TOYAH: Both books are a stream of consciousness. I don't know about you, but I think about my life like a diary. So say that's a diary (rustles some paper) Every single note of every single day is in that order in my brain right through virtually to my first memories. I could tell you what I was doing a year ago and what I was wearing, and that really freaks people out So when I'm in a situation and I was in the situation two days ago rehearsing the tour band for “Posh Pop”, which is the new album. They wanted to change an arrangement. So that in my head is like taking the ABC and just throwing it at the wall. It's literally like that. I can't hold it down. I can't sequence and I'm saying sorry, I'm having a brainstorm here  I'm going to have to stop everything, write it down in its order, learn it, see it, photograph it in my brain to get the line still. So sometimes when I look at print, the print becomes a black block. Impenetrable. You're just looking at a blank block or it's like confetti firing off and I can't control the images 

So reading books … I know a good writer Alice Sebold, “Lovely Bones”. That is an intellectual book. I read it in two hours, because she wrote it as a stream of consciousness. So with both of my books “Living Out Loud” and “Diary Of A Facelift” - they’re streams of consciousness. But because my consciousness is so ordered, when I write something it has that order in it BILLY: Your incredible acting career has seen you star in a cult classic film “Quadrophenia” and opposite Laurence Olivier in “The Ebony Tower”. You've also tread the boards in big West End shows and have appeared in TV shows, both as an actor and presenter. What impression did the people you've worked with leave on you? TOYAH: I’d say in “Quadrophenia” we were soul brothers and sisters, we're all the same. There was one standout, absolutely brilliant intellectual and that was Sting. He could do anything with such eloquence and brilliance, but the rest of us we were of similar mental ability and function Laurence Olivier was exceptional and I think part of this exceptionality was his generation. Seen two wars, have had to survive, gone without food, not knowing waking up every day and I think not knowing made exceptional human beings. I'm not saying it's good but Katharine Hepburn, Lord Olivier, Sir John Mills, Diana Dors, exceptional human beings. They shone

BILLY: What did it feel like working with Laurence Olivier? TOYAH: I came out of “Trafford Tanzi”, which was a massive critical success so I was pretty confident when I worked with Laurence Olivier (below, with Toyah in "The Ebony Tower") What I was aware of that he was in the latter part of his life and he wasn't well, but I absorbed him like a sponge because he had done so much and he had fought so much for what he believed in. The National Theatre was not an easy thing for him to do and then to be put into a Hollywood system when really he was passionately in love with the stage was not an easy journey for him The Hollywood system messed up his wife, Vivian Lee, and I witnessed this with Katharine Hepburn that the Hollywood system of the golden era of Hollywood was a cruel system. So I was looking at another survivor and recognised that and just was absolutely in awe of all of them. Huge respect  

BILLY: You've got the same fight and spirit that those stars of yesteryear had. Does it hold you in good stead? TOYAH: I've got my limitations. My physicality gives me limitations as an actress. I was looking at people who were seen as chameleon who could be anything. So I didn't actually hold myself in the same regard as them. But I am still a fighter BILLY: In 1984, you had the honour of being invited to make a speech at the Women of the Year in the presence of Diana, Princess of Wales (above with Toyah) Your speech expressed views on how being disabled incites creativity. What was the driving force behind your speech? TOYAH: It was a huge honour, Woman Of The Year celebrations. It's so motivationally important and you think well, why in a time today but it's incredibly important. To be invited to do that was just amazing. I wanted to just say that because I've been perceived educationally as a no hoper - and even my husband Robert Fripp, one of the world's greatest guitarists - then two weeks ago, (he) said to me and my guitar teacher "Toyah is unteachable". Even he thinks I'm unteachable 

I felt it was an opportunity to stand up and talk about the people I attract in my life, who seem definitely to have some form of disability. And the question is, is it disability or is it a different perception and experience? All are viable So in this speech I talked about two deaf male friends in an audience at Shaftesbury Avenue Theatre. I think 1982 or 83 where I was giving a concert and they were sign languaging the lyrics to each other. I realised they couldn't actually hear the music, but they were experiencing it. So I told this story In 1987 that's was revolutionary, we were just beginning within music theory to understand that people who are locked into their bodies but can't express themselves were still experiencing life and experiencing emotions. So this was all revolutionary and has come a long, long way since then I gave this speech and I just wanted to say that we need to see disability as these people have rights of access to everything but their disability doesn't stop them being phenomenal. So how do we use the word disability? I think we've come a long, long way in those last decades to making everything accessible and possible for everyone and that if we're educated at school, to know that we are all utterly physically unique, then we develop languages and connections no matter who and what we're connecting with It crosses boundaries, we need to cross boundaries and I think that's what that speech was about. If you read it today, I was probably using politically incorrect language but all of that is being ironed out and I'm certainly learning every day about the new language and the new acceptance and what can be said and what shouldn't be said (Watch the speech HERE)

BILLY: As a 31 year old with significant hearing difficulties I applaud you for taking a stand and making the speech that resonated experiences you'd had at the time. Every generation must play its part in spinning the wheel of change for the greater good with the best of intentions

TOYAH: Every generation must have the right to change the world for good. Every generation must do that. Our present young generation who’ve had 15 months of COVID now deserve the mantle, they deserve the right to change the world for good and it's quite an extraordinary time to be alive. I think  it’ll only change if people are taught about this So when I work with my band and if a firestorm starts in my head, I tell them. I say "could you just stop talking while I sort my head out?” Because sometimes you're having a firestorm and you just need to put everything back in place and conversation can be  exhausting. I just educate them about what I need Three years ago, I was in a play (as Queen Elizabeth I in "Jubilee", 2018, above) with a profoundly deaf actress. Sophie Stone, breathtaking actress and she said to us if we talk away from her she's not involved in the conversation. We had to learn to socially interact in that way to make sure we were always facing Sophie. But another thing she said that after eight hours of rehearsal, of reading sign language and doing sign language and reading lips, she was exhausted and she needed to be alone So it's all about interaction and learning and acceptance on a social and a work level. If we're not given that time, or we're not given that journey, the integration and the acceptance and the equality of it hasn't got a chance. So we need to learn this from the dyspraxics and the dyslexics and the hidden disabilities as well 

BILLY: What coping strategies do you use for dyspraxia and dyslexia? Awareness of dyspraxia pales in comparison to other hidden disabilities. What do you think is the cause for this? TOYAH: It's always been a big problem for everyone in my life that I am so capable of sitting in silence for weeks on end. I've actually gone months, well, let's say a month without even uttering a word. Silence and solitude for me is as informative creatively as it is for people in a nightclub. I think part of that is I have exceptional hearing. It's a massive problem. I am three doors away from the street and I can hear people talking on the pavement outside So everyone that comes into this house who knows me is aware that my hearing is exceptional. Because of that I do get very, very tired. There's a lot of information coming in all the time. Socially I say to people, let's get together, let's have a cocktail hour. If it goes to two hours, great. But after that I'm not good company. I get very, very tired by overstimulation of being social. And it's not criticism. It is just how I’m made BILLY: During the pandemic, you and your husband Robert kept the fans entertained while uploading many short, humorous videos online, going viral and racking up billions of hits. You've evidently helped people throughout the past year to keep a smile on their faces, but how have you coped mentally as a neurodiversive person? 

TOYAH: By doing exactly what you just said. I can't really do nothing. The first three weeks of lockdown I was in silence. I was meditating. I was actually praying a lot. Praying for my friends. We had a lot of people pass from cancer in that first three weeks. We lost two musicians. That first three weeks were very, very hard and then after that I realised that we were all in the same boat I wanted my husband to move and I started to teach them how to dance, which he hated. And then we started to do these crazy little films which he absolutely loathed in the beginning. But the messages coming back with “thank you, you saved my life. I'm alone in a single room apartment and I don't know what to do.” So all these messages were coming from around the world Slowly we realised that we'd hit on something that neither of us had ever touched upon before - that is our music was actually really affecting people's lives in a good way. So for me, the lockdown has been the busiest part of my life creating Toyah YouTube. But it's also kept me sane because I'm a performer and a performer needs an audience and it's as simple as that BILLY:  Did it feel like you were personally letting fans down when having to cancel gigs despite it being out of your control? Did the move on to YouTube reassure your fans that all is well and  normality will resume eventually?

TOYAH: Not only that. People who bought tickets didn't know when they were going to see you and people can't give up that money easily in a lockdown if they're not being furloughed, but they're out of work. You want to protect your audience, you want your audience to know that you see them, hear them and honour them. I had three tours cancelled and I wanted people to know that they hadn't lost that ticket money. So the whole of the connection through internet became vital and very, very precious BILLY: I am very much looking forward to seeing you live on tour in March 2022 TOYAH: Oh, that's fantastic! Good! We’ll know what we're doing by March. Completely new lineup, completely new sound BILLY: The “Posh Pop” tour gets underway in autumn of 2021. performing songs from the new album, hits and classics with electro acoustic band. Thank you for appearing on the The Dyspraxic Help 4U Podcast TOYAH: Thank you and thank you for understanding the process Listen to the podcast HERE

[boundforhale]

Derek  followed  behind  Stiles  awkwardly,  keeping  his  eyes  peeled  for  anyone  suspicious  as  they  moved  through  the  crowd.  He  kept  his  arms  arranged  in  a  way  to  ensure  that  his  jacket  didn't  mould  too  closely  in  order  to  conceal  that  he  was  packing.  

As  expected,  the  teen  immediately  began  to  let  loose  as  soon  as  they  arrived,  bouncing  and  swaying  with  the  beat.  Derek  ensured  he  kept  close  and  would  slip  in  as  interference  whenever  he  noticed  people  looking  like  they  were  trying  to  get  a  little  closer  to  Stiles.  It  would  be  risky  for  someone  to  try  and  conduct  an  operation  in  a  well  populated  place,  but  the  press  of  a  crowd  could  also  offer  good  concealment  so  he  wasn't  taking  any  chances.

He  scanned  his  eyes  over  Stiles  and  noticed  how  carefree  he  looked,  back  in  his  usual  environment  that  he  had  been  kept  from  for  the  last  few  weeks,  and  wearing  a  similar  outfit  to  that  first  night  they  had  met.  He  decided  he  would  try  to  let  Stiles  hang  out  for  as  long  as  possible  and  hoped  that  it  would  satiate  him  for  at  least  another  few  weeks.

In all his time with Derek, his hair had been a wavy and unkempt mess, so while he was getting changed, he also took some time to spike his hair up out of his forehead like he used to before he'd been more or less confined to indoors activities only.

He struggled into the tight jeans he'd been wearing the night they met, and paired it with a black viscose button-up that he tucked in, only to tug out slightly so it fit his form but not too snugly.

----

It was an all ages venue with a bar tucked to one side, so getting inside wasn't an issue for the teen, though the door-man insisted on marking the back of Stiles' hand with an X to show he was too young.

Stiles didn't care, because once inside he was bouncing with excitement, just glad to be out and more in his element than he'd felt in a while now.

[christinesficrecs]

Hi!! Do you have any fic recs where derek is completely head over heels for stiles from the very beginning?? Like completely in love and smitten ♡ it can be AUs or teen wolf universe ♡

Well, I might know a few. ❤️

Derek's Epic Love Story by arrowofcarnations | 11.5K | Explicit

Derek Hale is good at getting what he wants. Unfortunately, what he wants now is Stiles Stilinski, who doesn't exactly seem to be in the mood for his shit.

Scrubbing Bubbles by MargaretKire | 46K | Explicit

Stiles thought it would be easy doing janitorial work for an office. At first, it really was. The job only took a few hours in the evenings and it helped pay for rent and college. Sure, Hale Industries took up an entire floor in one of the downtown financial buildings, but the place was new and easy to care for. He didn’t even have to spend much time cleaning the huge corner office, because the trash was nearly always empty and the office itself was spotless, like no one used it.

It was basically the perfect college job. At least, until the boss started staying late.

Sidequest by bleep0bleep | 11.4K

Agent Derek Hale has been working up the courage to ask his partner Stiles out on a date (finally!) when he heads out on a solo mission—without Derek. Eager to provide support, Derek arrives in Beacon Hills, only there is no mission, and Stiles' dad thinks Derek is Stiles' boyfriend. Well. It could be worse.

If being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as hell. by DropsOfAddiction | 14.3K | Explicit

Derek tries and fails to shut his gaping mouth as Stiles arrives at his desk, heartbeat rabbiting a little faster than usual.

Stiles grabs a file out of his desk, muttering something about forgetting to mail it yesterday and needing to get it down to filing by Monday. Derek’s barely paying attention, unable to concentrate with the scent of him right under his nose.

He leans over Derek to grab an empty envelope from their shared stationary tray and Derek knows he’s absolutely fucked when he sees how his trousers are moulded to his perfect ass.

“So.... how do I look?” Stiles asks casually as he stands back up, as if his very presence hasn’t just given Derek a very sudden and uncomfortable boner.

He looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.

You’d Be So Good To Come Home To by SylvieW | 5K

In Stiles’ final year of college, Derek decides to rebuild the Hale house. He keeps asking for Stiles’ opinion on the house plans. Stiles doesn't realize that Derek is building the house with a mate in mind.

Put Out the Fire (but not the one in my heart) by omelet | 2.8K

Derek thinks this is getting a little out of hand. Because honestly, he never would have guessed that he would one day come to own a firemen-themed calendar.

I Intend to be Independently Blue by Loz | 21.7K | Mature

Stiles is the worst thing that could have happened to Derek. He hasn't been wolfing out at inopportune moments since his teens, but only because he has a system in place. And this is where Stiles comes into play. Because he's been messing with this system, and doesn't even know. Also, there's a wendigo.

sing me a song, piano man by bleep0bleep | 2.2K

Derek’s worked at McCall’s for three years, just about as long Stiles has been the pianist, and not once has Stiles ever sung a song about him.

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis | 3K

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell | 35.4K | Mature

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

The Love You Save (May Be Your Own) by Nokomis 17.5K

Everyone falls magically in love with Stiles. Well, except for Derek, who is suspiciously immune.

Wet T-Shirts For Charity by LadyDrace | 2.4K

Derek takes his car to a charity car wash. He didn't realize the wash came with a side of sexual frustration and pining.

How Derek Got His Groove Back by WhoNatural | 4.3K | Explicit

Cora kicks him under the table. “Do you have the hots for the baby lawyer?” she hisses urgently, and Derek blinks at her, feeling his face heat.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s young enough to be my--”

“Younger brother,” she cuts in, and shakes her head. “Age difference excuses do not fly with me. Are you gonna ask him out? Derek, you need to do something about that.”

“About what?” he says, frowning, watching as Stiles sits down at a table with a group of older, lawyer-types.

“The fact that you’re both about one drink away from sex in some janitor’s closet.”

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - June 2022. I’m late for a very important date! I feel like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. Sorry team. I know I am a few days late but enjoy! :) 

Seriously, it's like you're photoshopped. by orphan_account (1/1 | 8K | Teen)

"Oh my god," Stiles squeaks out again. "You're unbelievable."

Hot Bar Guy bobs his head agreeably. "I've been told that before, though usually people are more out of breath and less clothed when they say it."

Or, the Crazy, Stupid, Love AU nobody asked for.

If being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as hell. by DropsOfAddiction (1/1 | 14K | Explicit)

Derek tries and fails to shut his gaping mouth as Stiles arrives at his desk, heartbeat rabbiting a little faster than usual.

Stiles grabs a file out of his desk, muttering something about forgetting to mail it yesterday and needing to get it down to filing by Monday. Derek’s barely paying attention, unable to concentrate with the scent of him right under his nose.

He leans over Derek to grab an empty envelope from their shared stationary tray and Derek knows he’s absolutely fucked when he sees how his trousers are moulded to his perfect ass.

“So.... how do I look?” Stiles asks casually as he stands back up, as if his very presence hasn’t just given Derek a very sudden and uncomfortable boner.

He looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.

What Derek wants to say, what he really means to say, is that he looks fine. Quite nice, even.

What comes out of his mouth is so far from that, it’s almost ridiculous.

“You can’t go out looking like that!” Derek manages, sounding choked.

Stiles pales.

You’d Be So Good To Come Home To by SylvieW (1/1 | 5K | Teen)

In Stiles’ final year of college, Derek decides to rebuild the Hale house. He keeps asking for Stiles’ opinion on the house plans. Stiles doesn't realize that Derek is building the house with a mate in mind.

Mug Life by whateverrrrwhatever (1/1 | 7K | General)

Stiles hates the morning shift with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. The hot guy in the leather jacket with the boring coffee order might make him change his mind.

Grass Is Greener Where the Bodies Are Buried by mt_lyfe (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

“Derek, is that a hand sticking out from the petunias?”

Derek froze, “No?”

Ink Stained Hands by xxjinchuurikixx (1/1 | 14K | Mature)

The moment the spell breaks, Stiles feels every rune in his skin turn cool and then dim, like fiery embers that have had water quickly rushed upon them. His head is spinning, and he blinks, once, then all his strings are cut, and he collapses. * In which Stiles has magic, tattoos, and an irritating crush on Derek. And Derek is just Derek.

Lemon & Ginger by kaistrex (weishen) (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

“Is—Is he my—” The word dies in his throat.

“How did you not know?” Laura screeches and Derek feels his hackles rise, defensive.

“Wha—Bu—But he smells good to everyone!”

“Not that good,” Cora scoffs.

“Yeah, not good enough to hump him over it.”

“I didn’t hump—”

“You kinda did,” Stiles agrees, scratching at the back of his head. “Though I can’t say I minded.”

-

A new tea shop has opened in Beacon Hills, and Laura drags Derek along so he can try the incredible, memory-evoking drinks for himself. He’s soon going back for more, but is it because of the tea, or the owner?

The Witching Hour by loserchildhotpants (1/1 | 8K | Teen)

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born

You Fit Me Better by Jerakeen (2/2 | 5K | Not Rated)

It's only been eight months since he started having the dreams, but he's already cracking. He's heard of people living thirty, forty years with them, unable to find the one, complete the bond.... He doesn't know if he could do it. The euphoric, in-love feeling that used to carry into his day now hurts. It feels like someone's ripping it out of his chest every morning and he's bleeding, all day, until he's asleep again and he is there.

subways & superheroes by totleightowers (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

Stiles inadvertently trash-talks a superhero, The Wolf-Man, to a superhero, The Wolf-Man, and somehow ends up having mind-blowing sex with a superhero, The Wolf-Man.

princecharmingwinks special mention (so I never read WIPs but I made an exception for this fic and my gosh what a fun ride it has been for the last 2 years. Recently completed and so now I can rec it. Enjoy my followers who like longer fics!!)

Same Old Song and Dance by Halevetica (91/91 | 125K | Explicit)

Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.

We are halfway through the year team, wooo! I also read a few fics over 10K, look at me go (but don’t think this is the norm haha). See you next month !

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello! I was wondering if there are any fics about Stiles submitting to Derek? Like baring his neck or any other wolfy body language even tho he's human? I'm new to Tumblr so I'm not sure if I'm doing this right... 🥲💛💛

Maybe?

Rut is My Favorite Position by Spencebox

(2,140 I 1/1 I Explicit)

While Derek is in rut, Stiles attempts to make a store run for some snacks. Derek is not happy when he returns.

The Love You Save (May Be Your Own) by Nokomis

(17,575 I 1/1 I Teen)

Everyone falls magically in love with Stiles. Well, except for Derek, who is suspiciously immune.

If being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as hell. by DropsOfAddiction

(14,365 I 1/1 I Explicit)

Derek tries and fails to shut his gaping mouth as Stiles arrives at his desk, heartbeat rabbiting a little faster than usual.

Stiles grabs a file out of his desk, muttering something about forgetting to mail it yesterday and needing to get it down to filing by Monday. Derek’s barely paying attention, unable to concentrate with the scent of him right under his nose.

He leans over Derek to grab an empty envelope from their shared stationary tray and Derek knows he’s absolutely fucked when he sees how his trousers are moulded to his perfect ass.

“So.... how do I look?” Stiles asks casually as he stands back up, as if his very presence hasn’t just given Derek a very sudden and uncomfortable boner.

He looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.

What Derek wants to say, what he really means to say, is that he looks fine. Quite nice, even.

What comes out of his mouth is so far from that, it’s almost ridiculous.

“You can’t go out looking like that!” Derek manages, sounding choked.

Stiles pales.

As Ordered by KattsEyeDemon, seekeronthepath

(608,801 I 117/? I Explicit)

During the year in which they turn eighteen, all American citizens are tested to find where they fall on the Dom-sub scale and are assigned to a Dom - either to mentor them as they learn how to be a Dom themselves, or to look after them and make sure their needs as a submissive are met. When Stiles tests as a sub, he’s assigned to Derek Hale, and the two of them gradually learn to rely on and love each other.

[reidslefteyebrow]

Forget-me-not: Part One

Reid and reader were close friends... Until they weren't. One thing's for sure, he wouldn't forget her in a hurry.

Reader x Spencer Reid | Spencer Reid x Maeve Donovan | BAU Agent! Reader

Rating: Mature Warnings: Explicit language, violence, blood, serial killers

Working with the BAU meant that you saw the most horrific side of humanity every day for most of your adult life. Spree killings, family annihilations, substitutes for people’s mothers who had the most atrocious acts performed on them regardless of whether their hearts were beating - in a way, seeing these vile acts every day had desensitised you to much of the gore that the world had to offer. Having a front-row seat to humanity’s most cruel and evil acts certainly had an effect on you. You found that, after years of working alongside the team, none of them were surprised when a dead body cropped up and none of them batted an eyelid at the state each victim was in. Sometimes, it even reached the point where you wondered whether you had any empathy at all, seeing the chalky bodies laid out prone on cold steel slabs; but when that body had once been that of a 3-year-old girl, hair still tied in haphazard bunches with dirty pink ribbons, you’d stopped wondering while vomiting into a bedpan.

So why was it, you wondered, that you felt thoroughly unprepared for where you found herself now? The smell of mould and stagnant water permeated your senses and sent bile rising up your throat with every ragged breath you laboured to pull in. Blood dripped like a faulty tap from the festering, open wounds around your wrists and ankles as the rope binding them chafed with your struggles. Darkness was the only thing you could see, time forgotten in the aftermath of your ordeal and beside you… Another woman’s ragged breathing, more strained and wheezy than yours, and the loudest noise in the room.

Maeve.

You wished that she’d been shocked to see Spencer’s phone-buddy, turned lover, turned ex-lover strapped to a chair when you’d been dragged down the stairs by her wrists, but the reality of the situation was that nothing about this situation shocked you. The team had been chasing an unsub in Massachusetts for weeks now: they’d profiled him to a ridiculously accurate degree. A white male, late 20s, angry at his siblings for always being seen as smarter than him and looking for intelligent surrogates to murder in his place. He likely held a menial job that didn’t require qualifications, probably a janitor in or near Harvard, the prime hunting ground for academically gifted young adults. It had taken mere moments, after what felt like a lifetime of chasing, for Garcia to identify him as Richard Maine, 27-year-old cleaner at the local student cafe/bar who’d dropped out of high school and bounced from job to job while his older sister and younger brother had both gone to Yale and moved onto high-powered, high-paid jobs. He’d managed to abduct, torture and murder 15 kids before they’d caught up with him, and the entire team couldn’t wait to get the bastard behind bars. Then they made a mistake. Then they let Richard meet Reid.

It had been Derek’s idea to send him in, much to the anger and anguish of both yourself and Garcia, but he was adamant that he could get through to him: after all, Spencer and Richard were the same age - you were too young and everyone else too old or too authoritative. It was going well at first… Until Reid opened his mouth and all that poured out was a bunch of IQ 187 bullshit that ramped the unsub’s temper up to 11. There were no other visible, strategic entry points to the room and, with Spencer’s back to the door, no way of gaining the element of surprise over Maine. Had it not been for your split second decision to ignore Hotch’s orders and yank Spencer out of the room by the collar of his shirt, you knew for certain that the pristine skin of his throat would have been marred with deep slashes, and that it would be his body making you sick to your stomach as it was covered with a starchy, white sheet. Regardless of the suspension you faced, the lectures from Hotch and the disappointed looks even from Rossi, you didn’t regret your choice at all. Reid… Reid was special to you in ways that even he didn’t understand. The word waterfalls that fell from his lips every time his interest was piqued, the way his nimble fingers often danced over the pages of a book on the jet, nothing escaped your notice and, since you were often paired together due to your age and academic experiences, you found yourself developing a nagging little crush on the BAU’s resident genius. Penny knew, Emily did too. Hell, you were pretty sure Hotch knew somehow (probably Penny’s doing) and it was best not to dwell on Rossi’s never ending knowledge surrounding your pitiful love life.

You had, naturally at one point, hoped that the fluttering feeling that appeared whenever Spencer was around would be reciprocated. You’d taken it upon yourself to support him after his order with Tobias Hankel, which had resulted in a seriously clingy Reid for quite some time. Despite the fact that you longed to revel in it, you knew that his attachment came from dependency rather than attraction and, as soon as he’d moved back into his apartment, your hopes were squashed back into that teeny box in the back of your mind labelled ‘feelings for Spencer Reid’. You’d manage to push on through over the following years, the crush quietly simmering away as you experienced unimaginable horrors alongside Spencer and the team. You went through the loss of Hayley as if you were a family, and then the loss of Emily and the revival of Emily and the deep, excruciating betrayal shared by yourself and Spencer when you realised that JJ had lied to you both. Everything was quiet for a while after that. You reconciled with your friends, you lost Emily to London and finally, finally you thought that you might have earned a well-deserved break. Maybe, just maybe, you’d put in enough graft to be granted the one thing you’d longed for over the years: to be more than friends with one Dr Spencer Reid.

Then came the phone calls. Despite being the one who claimed to have an IQ of 187, Spencer was terrible at disguising when he was hiding something. The squirrely attitude, the odd trips to phone booths, and the shock consultation when they were struggling through the John Nelson amputation case just didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t until you were dozing, half asleep with your head resting lightly on Reid’s shoulder that you heard Derek congratulating him on finding himself a new girlfriend and it fully hit you: Reid was seeing someone, someone that wasn’t you. It took everything within your power not to give in to the crushing weight that slammed into your chest and open your eyes, let the tears run free. Your heart was torn with the realisation that his brilliant mind had sought out one of a similar calibre, rather than a young, inexperienced woman of average intelligence like you. Broken. You were broken. But you couldn’t let him know, let him blame himself for your feelings when they weren’t his concern. So you mumbled softly to yourself and feigned stirring, turning over in your seat and away from the unintentional source of your heartbreak.

It would have been easier for you to cope with if Maeve Donovan was someone easy to hate, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The woman was lovely, downright saint-like. She baked cookies for the team and bought bright pens for Penny and always met the BAU at the airport with fresh coffees and a sympathetic ear. Rossi treated her like a daughter, Hotch and the others like a sister and Reid? Well, he treated her like the centre of his universe and who were you to stop him? He, the tortured boy genius who had been through the wars, finally had a genuine smile on his face. What sort of person would you have to be to try and destroy that for your own, personal gain? So you stepped back, watched his smile radiate sunshine from afar and basked in the residual warmth it brought to your chest. Eventually, the feelings you’d allow to grow were pushed firmly back into that box, the lid firmly shut. If you could see that smile on Spencer Reid’s face every day, then it would make all the pain worthwhile. So imagine your surprise when, one day, that smile seemingly vanished overnight to be replaced with a faint grimace and red-rimmed eyes.

You daren’t approach the Doctor in such a delicate state, but Derek didn’t hesitate to pull you aside and gently inform you that Spencer and Maeve had been arguing for some time now, finally choosing to end things only hours before he’d entered the office.

‘A mutual decision,’ he’d said, a frown etched on his face. ‘But that doesn’t mean Pretty Boy ain’t hurting, yn.’

You’d nodded in understanding, and taken steps to comfort Spencer in the subtlest ways possible. Every morning he’d come in to his usual coffee order sitting on his desk, a pastry neatly wrapped alongside. Small notes of gratitude and puns about books that you’d seen Spencer reading often appeared on his computer screen when he was out of the room, prompting quiet chuckles that sent those dreaded butterflies in your stomach aflutter. The lid on your ‘feelings for Spencer’ box, once nailed shut, burst open with renewed vigour as soon as that smile settled on his face once more. Sure, it was a little jaded, faded at the edges and never as bright as it was with Maeve, but you had put it there and that - to you - was all that mattered. You knew, deep down, that Spencer was still in love with his ex-girlfriend. Part of him, you thought, always would be. What you didn’t know was that Richard Maine, presumed missing, knew that too.

He’d seen the fiery look in your eyes as you’d dragged Spencer from his grasp. He’d seen the burning longing and deep-rooted fear of losing the man you cared for so much and it fuelled him. So he took a step into the shadows and began to watch. He watched Spencer disregard you for the pretty geneticist and stomp over your heart in the process. He watched as you pieced yourself back together and then, after the break up, pieced Spencer back together too. He watched as, unbeknownst to you, Spencer began to catch himself casting fond looks in your direction every so often only to catch himself and shake his head to cast the thoughts away. It was then that Richard Maine knew how to enact the ultimate revenge. He no longer cared about his siblings, the pain that they’d caused him. His eyes were firmly set on tearing poor Dr Spencer Reid’s life apart, and he was going to use you and Maeve Donovan to do it.

His footsteps were heavy, the wooden stairs creaking under his clumsy gait as he entered the dingy basement where he kept you bound. Not even the smallest sliver of light crept through the door he came through - he was always sure to keep you both unaware of the time. A harsh, single bulb flickered on above you and you squinted with a hiss as the artificial light burned your retinas. Maeve groaned, her head hanging over to shield herself from the same pain.

‘Wakey wakey, ladies,’ how was the man so chirpy? ‘I’ve got a surprise for you!”

In his hands was a tripod and his phone. ‘I’m sorry Dick - can I call you Dick? Seems more fitting than Richard - but if you think that this is the time to film some Onlyfans content, I think you’ve missed the mark.’ Sarcasm was in your nature - something that Hotch often warned you about when it came to talking unsubs down. You fought back a wry smile: if only he could see you now.

‘Nice try, sweetheart, but I know that you’re all bark and no bite.’

‘Wh-What’s the phone for?” Maeve’s voice was hoarse. She’d spent the longest time screaming for help, ignoring your desperate attempts to calm her down.

‘It’s been 4 weeks since I caught you,’ A stomach-curdling smirk spread across Maine’s face. ‘And seeing as your precious team haven’t been able to find you, I thought I’d give them a little incentive.’

‘A little…’ Your voice trailed off as Maine set up the tripod and pushed a button on his phone, the focus solely on yourself and Maeve. It hit you then, somehow you knew exactly what he wanted.

‘Hello, Dr Reid… You’ve got a choice to make.’

***

Oh my gosh I haven't written in so long! I hope you all enjoyed it!

Link to next part: https://reidslefteyebrow.tumblr.com/post/666679691805114368/forget-me-not-part-2

Comment or message me to be added to taglist! And thanks to the wonderful @vinvantae for encouraging me to start writing again 🥰