#Derek makes a great lawyer

[jqmalikhsgib]

astrology

one

in most stories being the youngest kid means being the sheltered child. everyone would see the baby of the family being favored more than the eldest or middle child. for you, it wasn’t ever like that.

you grew up in an classic middle class family. your mother was a prosecutor and your father was a detective. your older brother followed in his fathers footsteps. he went to college, worked his ass off, and became an officer.

and your sister became a lawyer just like your mom. she was damn good at it too.

you on the other hand, you had different dreams. you never wanted to be cooped up in a bubble. your dreams were to travel the world, draw the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen, meet new people, discover yourself.

when you graduated high school you saved up enough money over the years to do so. you took different jobs just to pay bills and continue to move along.

your parents never thought it was a great idea. they’d always scold you to go to college. they’d get your siblings along in it but it just never worked. you loved your free spirited life style.

you visited your family every once in a while. but after ten years of being free, ten years of constantly hearing the same things over and over, ten years of nonstop get bugged over when you’re gonna grow up and turn your life around, you were tired.

you stopped going to every christmas, every thanksgiving, every birthday, any holiday. you’d come up with some excuse. telling your family you had a shift at whatever job you had.

truth was, you needed to be away. your family back home may not have understood. besides your best friend, you didn’t really keep in contact with anyone.

spencer was the only one who stood beside you. he knew that you had other dreams and aspirations. he never judged you for drifting off and exploring the world. he was the one to encourage you.

“yn, remember what you told me when i had a hard time deciding to skip a few grades? you said that if i didn’t, id always wonder. you told me im too smart to be in seventh grade and i needed to get off my ass and go show those high school idiots how smart i truly am. you’re an amazing artist, yn! i know you can make a name for yourself.”

that was the only thing you needed to hear before you packed your bags, bought a plane ticket, and began your journey. you never regret your decision.

it’s why you’re so glad to be in virginia. getting to see spencer again made you happy. you haven’t seen your best friends since he made it into the behavioral analysis program. you knew spencer was beyond smart. knowing that he was working with the smartest people, fighting crime, and kicking ass, made you proud.

you smile at the guard up front. “hi, im here to see doctor spencer reid.”

the guard asked for a form of identification before smiling and giving you a visitors badge. spencer made sure to let them know you’d be coming by.

when you finally got to his floor your eyes widened with how big it truly was. you never thought you’d ever be here. standing in front of a team full of people who study human behavior.

“yn!?” spencer runs to his friend.

“woah, slow down there pretty boy.”

you opens your arms wide as spencer lifts you up and spins you around. you giggled before he sets you down.

“hi, genius!”

“god, i miss you.”

“miss you too bud. this place is incredible, spence. how do you guys get any work around here done. i wouldn’t know how to sit still.”

spencer just shrugs as he walks the two of you over to his desk. you spot two individuals.

one of them was a woman. she was beautiful. her dark locks were slowly fading to grey, but she definitely rocked it.

the other was a tall, muscular build man. he had a cocky smirk on his face. he was definitely handsome. you can tell he’s a bit of a player but ultimately a sweetheart.

“well pretty boy, you gonna introduce us?”

spencer smiles. “guys, this is my best friend since diapers, yn! yn thats emily and derek.”

you gently waved.

“hi. it’s nice to finally meet you. spencer talks bout you guys all the time. im glad he has someone else to bug besides me.” you playfully hit his arm.

“you must be someone special. reid doesn’t hug anyone. says—”

“it’s safer to kiss? he’s been saying that since we were children. i think he came up with that when he had a crush on our next door neighbor, dawn.”

“hey! it’s an actual fact!” spencer defends.

you playfully roll your eyes. “when are you off, butthead? i wanna look at places while im here.”

“im off this weekend.”

“you’re moving down here?!”

“yeah. spencer constantly tells me how great this place is. it’s gotta be better than nevada if it’s got spencer’s vote of approval.”

“it is a great state. you’ll love it. if you need help finding something im sure i could be of service.”derek flirts.

“thanks. i should probably let you all get back to work. ill—”

“we have a case!” you get interrupted. you slowly lift your head and your heart skips a beat.

he stares at you with a scowl on his face. you assumed it was a permanent one. he was tall, had a beautiful head of hair, his face was clean shaven, his suit was definitely dry cleaned. he looked like a man you’d see in a fairytale. like how you’d imagine prince eric from the little mermaid to look. he was breathtaking.

“i’ll probably be gone for a few days. will you be okays exploring the city without me?” spencer breaks you out of your trance.

“um—yeah. just be safe. and call me!”

spencer smiles as he squeezes your arm before walking away. you give your heart a second to go back to normal speed.

you think you’re gonna love it here.

so, yes it’s an age gap between them. listen, im not gonna be like some people and say i have a huge problem with age gaps, because i do not!

yes, at times it can be gross. when someone is freshly eighteen and dating someone in their mid to late twenties or older, it’s gross

if someone knew the person when they were a child and begin dating them. even if they’re in their twenties, it’s gross

but as someone who’s 25 and has only dated men older since i was like 22, i don’t see much of a problem as long as they were two consenting adults.

that being said, read it if you want and if you don’t, scroll past it.

reader is 28

aaron is 44

[everydayarsonist]

Hey yknow Glitch Productions? I’m gonna rank their villains.

Waluigi- 6/10. A funny interpretation of the “Everyone is Here!” Meme.

Bob- 8/10. The Rapper Bob Arc might be low stakes, but I really like how it twists a side character into a main antagonist. Bob slowly revealing just how twisted he’d become is amazing, and I’m glad they don’t forgive him right away.

Francis- 7/10. He’s the worst dude ever. Y’all remember when the Anime Arc was the darkest? Yeah me neither. In any case, Francis is also terrifying because if you’ve been on the internet for long enough, you’ve probably met someone like him.

SMG3- 8/10. Making a recurring villain the main villain of an arc was a solid choice, and it’s certainly menacing watching him replace the entire cast. I don’t have much else to say.

SMG0 (Or Eldritch Zero if you’re @itsgemystic)-6/10. He doesn’t really get much development other than his verses in the rap battle. He of course has to possess Axol because of course he does. We need some of that artificial drama and angst.

Niles- 8/10. The building tension in the arc of “Who is this guy? Why is he helping Melony? Why is his name Niles?” The slow realization of “Oh shit is this Zero?” has a looming presence. He doesn’t do much in the finale though.

Lawyer Kong- 4/10. He is essentially the representation of the existential dread that Nintendo has on the channel. But he’s not really utilized well. Small tangent, but the rap battle just feels so overconfident and exaggerated on the part of the SMG4 crew. I do adore his vocals just being drawn from the OG DK rap’s vocals. He sounds great, especially during the rap battle.

Wren- 9/10. He has some buildup as this greatly skilled champion during prior episodes and some allusions to him being looked down upon in recent years. Him being a villain isn’t too surprising, as the simulation itself builds him up as a dangerous outlaw. He immediately makes an impact on Meggy and the audience from just a few scenes. Overall, he’s a great execution of the “Pure Evil” trope. He doesn’t need to be redeemed. You understand his actions and know that he was influenced by someone else, but he’s still a terrible person.

Derek Lucks- 8/10. He’s a prideful businessman who won’t let morality get in the way of making money and advancing the industry.

James Sheridan- 8/10. He’s a scientist who spent years in the shadows, never getting recognized for his accomplishments. So now he’s going to show the world what he can do. He could’ve used more buildup, but he’s still a menacing villain whose presence is felt through the whole season.

Evelyn Claythorne- 9/10. She’s a spoiled rich white girl. That’s about it. She has some nuance, but it’s really not much. It’s incredible watching her getting slapped in the final episode imo.

Benedict- 7/10. He’s an evil genius crime boss who wants to be immortal. He’s not too complex or too threatening, but he’s definitely dangerous and immoral. Why does Meggy always have to fight the irredeemable ones?

The Absolute Solver- 8/10. Comedic and Scary. definitely had some chilling moments and great fights, but I wish we’d gotten a bit more lore about it.

[anewkindofme]

What are your thoughts about Little Alex and Cg! merDer

I think they are too precious for this world.

Ask me for headcanons on characters from my fandom list!

First of all, this scene in a caregiver context: Alex just trying to take a shower, Meredith making sure he’s actually washing himself and then Derek comes into check on them because Alex is pouty and trying to insist he’s a big boy…but then ultimately needs Derek’s help.

As Alex already lives in their house, it’d be an easier dynamic to start. They all work at the same hospital so if Alex drops while they’re there, both his parents are there for him. Also, considering Derek is chief, he can do a lot of his work from home. Meaning, if Alex drops or is sick, he can stay with him. Meredith feels bad about this sometimes but Alex understands and thinks she’s the coolest doctor ever (even cooler than his dad).

Alex drops between 1-3 years old and can become very baby. He has a pacifier, wears diapers and drinks out of a bottle most of the time when feeling small, though sometimes asks for a sippy cup. Alex has a crib for times like this but 90% of his little space, he’s co-sleeping. A doctor tried to tell Meredith and Derek it wasn’t healthy…earning them a death glare from Meredith and a lecture from Derek.

Alex has to try to do most things on his own. It can be a little frustrating for Meredith and Derek as they know he needs help, but they also know he won’t accept it if they jump in right away. Alex is very stubborn and when feeling older, is constantly like a mini-lawyer trying to plead his case as to why he should be allowed to jump on the couch or have a brownie for breakfast.

Meredith worries more than Derek, but Derek is more protective. While Meredith worries, she tends to give Alex a little more freedom. Derek hovers and will swoop in at the first tiny sign of danger. This leads to a few disagreements between Meredith and Derek.

They try not to argue in front of Alex, but sometimes they slip or he overhears. It upsets him a great deal as it brings him back to living with Jimmy and Helen. Meredith and Derek assure him they will never fight like that

When Alex is feeling very young, he becomes nonverbal. Mark teaches him basic ASL for things like more, please, thank you, sleepy, etc.

Even when he’s feeling bigger, he calls Meredith and Derek “mom” and “dad”. They refer to him as their son. Their dynamic expands past little space. Derek also has to stop himself from calling Alex his nicknames at work. After all, referring to him as “nugget” in front of patients probably wouldn’t go over well!

[putonmyfavoriteshow]

Life With Luca thoughts/reactions

WOW, I really enjoyed that way more than I expected to!

OK, so timeline wise the math isn't really mathing for me lmao. Like how do they both have 14 yr olds and Simon being in college already?? The show only ended in 2009/2010 which was 13/14 years ago?? What year is it in this universe??? They both had children the year they went off to college lmao??

But I'm happy to ignore logic since I actually enjoyed the newbies a lot.

I liked that Luca/Skylar weren't just a repeat Casey/Derek dynamic and weren't rivals who full on hated each other but just grew up differently and had some jealousy/hostility toward the other because of that, but actually were a lot sweeter together during more serious moments. I think their personalities perfectly reflected how they were raised - Luca is a bit of a rebel, but he's very much Casey's son, he's trained in First Aid! and has a granola bar in his pocket at all times, albeit stale AF, and takes care of his siblings even if he can be lazy about it sometimes. Skylar is more mature minded but she has the freedom of Derek's parenting so she's not nearly as high strung as Casey is, but she is more organized and put together to make up for Derek's lackadaisical way of living.

I LOVED SIMON!!! He was easily my favorite new character. I can't believe I went from forgetting he even existing to absolutely adoring him. He was so lovable and silly and he must have such a wild childhood being the Venturi-McDonald baby, I would love more backstory on him!

Molly/Kai were adorable and the perfect little chaotic kiddos to round out the ensemble :3

George/Nora - although I wasn't as invested in them, their relationship is so adorable and they're just as dorky and sweet as they were in the series.

The random jewelry heist B-plot was so random, but kinda funny. I'm down for some chaotic hijinx, and I love how it ended with that theif falling through the ceiling XD

The return of Lassiter and Sam were great. It would've been great to see any of the show regulars honestly but I'm glad we got some. I think the return of D-Rock really got me. When they started singing the song I had tears in my eyes. And Ralph as a surgeon was such a great way to explain his absense lmao.

I missed Edwin/Lizzie/Marti. I think that was my only real let down with the movie. They didn't need to be in the whole thing but even a video call would have been nice :/

Career-wise I'm glad they went with Derek as a rock star and Casey as a lawyer. Even though Derek was the hockey guy, seeing him roam around as a rock star with his daughter really just fits his vibe. And I'm so glad the movie course corrected VWD Casey because I was never a fan of her dropping out of college to dance in NY like ?? sure Casey loves to dance but she loves to use her big brain even more!!! Plus fighting for justice?? THAT'S SO CASEY DASEY!!! So it was taboo then, I feel like it's even more taboo now, but had you lived it you would get it! These two always had way too much tension and never quite fell into a sibling-like relationship. They were insanely obsessed with each other making everyone around them uncomfortable, so they were destined to be messed up soulmates <3 It may be an ick for some and that's valid, but for me they'll always be "the exception the the rule" ;) Also Ashley and Mike were always pushing the limit on them, they knew what they were doing! Ok, so now that that's out of the way, I knew that we weren't going to get canon Dasey out of this, but I'm so glad the writers delivered on giving us some great Dasey content regardless. The fact that both Skylar's mom and Casey's hockey husband were both entirely absent and no love interest was given was wise. We basically got to see Derek and Casey play house and be the married vibes that they are which is honestly what us hardcore LWD/Dasey fans want anyway. Mike & Ash didn't miss a beat! That was really Casey and Derek back on my screen and it made me really emotional <3 Maybe the movie didn't have a whole lot of just them, since their children were the focal point but the way it ended, it just made me want more and feel like we were being set up for ...possible canon Dasey? But even if not canon, I think that if the show does get picked up, we can get so much fun Dasey content from it to build from anyway (canon is overrated sometimes lbr) Plus I genuinely enjoy seeing Derek and Casey in parental roles so that would be awesome. And SIMON MORE SIMON PLEASE!!!! <3

[sunnyie-eve]

13 | I Wish

Series: Indispensable | Teen Wolf

Paring:  (Stiles Stilinski x OFC Martin)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Might be a few mistakes

| MASTERLIST |

~~~

"Great, you're dressed. We got first watch." Stiles bursts through my door.

"Huh?"

"Jackson. Let's go." He grabs my hand pulling me up so I put my shoes on then follow him.

"You got Jackson?" I ask since no one had updated me.

"Yes, and I don't want to explain the whole thing." He smiles so I nod my head.

"He's in that?" I ask as we show up.

"Yep. Can you get the bag in the back?" He asks me so I do and follow him. "Okay, I bought you some foo-,"

Jackson cuts him off, "Let me out now!" He scares him as we get in.

"You know, I put those pants on you, all right, buddy? One leg at a time. Being all up-close and person with your junk wasn't exactly a highlight of my day. So don't think this is fun for me either. You know we're actually doing you a favor?" Stiles tells him.

"This is doing a favor?" Jackson asks.

"Yes. You're- you're killing people. To death. Yeah. And until we can figure out how to stop you, you're gonna stay in here. I'm sorry. Now... Do you want the ham and cheese, or the turkey club?" Stiles pulls them out to show him.

"You actually think my parents won't be looking for me?" Jackson asks him so he shows him the text he sent.

The look on Jackson's face makes me turn the phone to read it then I smack Stiles upside the head, "Does he look like someone who says love you? He never said it to my sister. I doubt he tells his parents that. I don't even think it's in his vocabulary." I shake my head at him.

"She's right." Jackson says making me glare at him.

"Well, if you're not gonna eat one I want it because I got dragged out before I could put something in my belly." I lean back and stretch my legs out across.

"Here." Stiles hands me one to eat so I do.

"What exactly do I turn into? What do I look like?" Jackson asks us.

"Not a werewolf like you were hoping. You have scales." I give him a smile.

"Scales? Like a fish?" He asks.

"No, more like a reptile. Um, and, uh, your claws have this liquid that paralyzed people, well except two sisters, and you have a tail." Stiles lists to him.

"I have a tail?" Jackson says.

"Yep." I nod my head.

"Does it do anything?" He stares at us.

"No, not that I know of." Stiles says.

"Can I use it to strangle you?" He reaches out at him.

"Probably could to be honest. You'll just have to know how to work your tail." I shrug my shoulders then sit up, "Seeing that you don't believe shit we say... The night of the semi-final game, what did you do right after?" I ask him.

"I went home." He glares at me.

"Are you sure about that?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes, you idiot. What the hell else would I do?" He asks annoyed.

"You attacked me, Stiles, and Derek at the school, and you trapped us in the pool. You also killed a mechanic, right in front of Stiles, by the way. And one of Argent's hunters." I explain to him.

"Oh, and last night, you tried to kill Danny." Stiles adds.

"Why would I want to kill my best friend?" He asks him.

"Well, that's what Scott's out trying to figure out right now." Stiles says.

"Well, maybe, he should be trying to figure out is how he's going to pay for a lawyer when I prosecute your asses all the way to jail!" Jackson shouts.

"All right, well, tell me this. On the night of the first full moon, what happened?" Stiles asks him and he says nothing happened.

I roll my eyes getting out of the van not wanting to be near Jackson. I could stand being around him. "Julia." Stiles comes over to me as I walked some ways from the van.

"Huh?" I force a smile.

"You okay?" He asks me.

"No, because I can't stand him. He's a piece of shit. He thinks he's all that bc his parents have money and he's always got what he wanted. I know, my parents have money too but I don't get shit like him or Lydia. Jackson's just an ignorant asshole. He had his moments with Lydia when they dated but most of the time he was shit. Then an even big dick after dumping her to become a werewolf. GUESS WHAT YOU DIDN'T GET WHAT YOU WANTED FOR ONCE!" I shout towards the van. "He'd rather be ignorant and wrong then admit someone else is right about something." I sit down on the ground.

"I'm happy you didn't get things. I know that sounds bad but you wouldn't be you if you did." Stiles sits next to me. "If anything, I need to thank the werewolf that bit you when you were 10 because if it never did... You wouldn't be out here with me." He nudges me.

"True." I smile.

After some time I watch Stiles text Jackson's dad but we hear rustling. Allison shows up starting us causing Stiles to lean back into me while I grab his shoulders.

"They know. They know Jackson's missing." She tells us.

"No, they can't. I've been texting his parents since last night. They don't have a clue." He tells her.

"My grandfather told me his parents went to the police. They know." She explains.

"Told you it was the love you part." I say as he freaks out holding the phone.

He checks the radio and we hear they're coming out here so we get in the van to go somewhere else.

Scott joins us soon and explains what he found out about Danny doing Jackson a favor with some footage. We all talk about who is protecting Jackson but something else is going on we don't know because he wasn't exactly trying to kill us. As Scott goes on a long rant to why we should help him I ignore him because I still didn't exactly care for the dude. Stiles and I leave while Scott and Allison watch over Jackson for awhile.

"I'm with you. Let's just kill him." I laugh as we walk around not exactly leaving to go home.

"That's a first." He chuckles.

We find a spot and sit on a rock looking at the town. "What are you thinking about?" Stiles asks me after some time.

"What if's about the past." I sigh tilting my head.

"What about what if's? We already said stuff about that." He looks at me confused.

"Well it's more like why. Why did shit happen to me at ten..." I turn my head to look at him, "Why me being slightly odd make my family treat me with less love? Why did people not give me a chance because Lydia said stuff about me? What did I do to deserve all of that growing up?" Tears fall from my eyes so Stiles pulls me closer to his side putting an arm around me rubbing up and down my arm.

"I can't tell you why... And I can't tell you why I used to be one of those people who listened to Lydia when we were in elementary. But things happen for a reason and maybe soon the answer will show itself. It sucks having family treat you less because you got a gift. And I'm sorry for never seeing what great person you are. If I could go back in time I would have talked to you way earlier." He rests his chin on top of my head.

"Sometimes I wish I just died from the bite."

"Don't say that, Julia. Don't ever say that again or think that again, okay." Stiles kisses the side of my head hugging me tightly. "If you died we wouldn't be here right now. And I kinda like having you around."

I turn my head to look at him, "I kinda like being around." I smile making him smile too.

We end up sitting in silence for awhile before heading back to the others and see Jackson was no longer in the van.

"Some watch they are." I say as Stiles goes over to the car waking them up to show them.

"I have to tell my father." Allison speaks up, "Scott, he's going to kill someone."

"Okay, tell him. Tell him everything."

"Scott, I gotta tell mine, too." Stiles speaks up.

"It's all my fault."

"It's not. But we have to tell them. We're just a bunch of teenagers. We can't handle this." Allison tells him.

"You're right."

"How are you going to make your dad believe all this?" I ask Stiles.

"I don't know." He looks at me.

"He'll believe me." Scott turns to look at us with his eyes glowing.

Allison heads home while Scott and I go to the station to see Stiles dad but when we get there we see Jackson there.

"Scott, Stiles, Julia. Perfect timing. Have you met Jackson's father, Mr. David Whittemore? Esquire." Noah tells us.

"That means lawyer." Jackson speaks up.

"No shit." I snap back.

While we end up having to wait at the station for Scott's mom and mine to come get us, Allison calls saying Lydia translated the book and Jackson had someone controlling him.

When our moms get here I could tell mine was pissed as she glares at me.

"You will not go within 50 feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him. You will not approach him. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically." Noah reads off to us.

"Fine by me." I speak up, "Can't stand that asshole." I look over at his dad.

"Julia." My mother looks at me.

"What about school?" Stiles asks.

"You can attend classes while attempting to maintain a 50 foot distance." Noah says making Stiles go on to asking stupid questions so my mom said we will be leaving now.

"I can't believe you, Julia." She says as soon as we get into the car.

"To be far it wasn't my idea. I got dragged into it." I say looking out the window.

"By who? That Stiles kid? I don't want you talking to him or hanging out with him. Do you hear me? He's trouble."

"Really? One of my only two friends?" I look at her.

"Yes. No, Stiles."

[storyofwhoiam]

plots please! / Justino and Zach

@id1eyouth | send “plots please” and I’ll respond with plots / relationships / connections I can think of for our muses | always accepting!

Justino - Zachary: Justino's from a well-off enough family that I could see them having gone to school/grown up together

Patsy - Zachary: Oh goodness, they're both a pair of angst-filled closeted queerness 😭 I don't know how they end up meeting and opening up to each other but it feels like there's a fair amount of common ground pain

Derek - Zachary: In which Zach is alive and the BAU is investigating the death of his father

John - Edward: My standard fare for John is to provide him as a gardener, unsurprisingly - considering what I imagine is a great big estate, John'd have his work cut out for him

Bridget - Edward: Army mandated therapy for one?

Cressida - Esther: Ooh this feels like a fun combo, maybe Esther can open up Cressida's closeted mind

Violet - Zachary: Let's make the Bridgertons their neighbours and Zach can get some quasi-maternal love

Elizabeth - Esther: Elizabeth is doing work for some sort of child education charity where they cross paths?

Allie - Blaire: Allie very desperately needs a lawyer please

JJ - Blaire: Blair is defending someone that JJ and the team are trying to get convicted

Allie - William: William's mother knows Marie? They both share the same dealer?

[screenmaven]

Lying Eyes - Film Review

Thriller/Romance 1996

I’m Back!! Review time. I know it’s been a minute, and yes I’m back on my 90s made for tv, lifetime esq masterpieces, or just some good b movie noirs. This one however was insanely good.

Here’s the 411.

We have a senior girl Amy (played by Cassidy Rae) in high school who’s obviously very pretty and gets into an accident with a charming dark haired man. I’m gonna call him Mr Suave or as the film calls him Derek Bradshaw (played by Vincent Irizarry), cause boy did he lay it on real thick. He starts up a romance with Amy although she is 18 and him 33. Oh those older men romances that just end so well lol. (Might be speaking from experience when I was in high school 😱��). The Cranberries song “Dreams” was used from their first meeting, and throughout, which was an absolutely perfect fit for this scenario. I love me some Cranberries and definitely 1996, so it blended the film so well. Music to me really makes a film work.

Amy gets swept off her feet by Derek giving her expensive gifts, fine jewelry, making her feel more mature and cultured, all the while doing a number on her mentally. He’s a lawyer with a beach house and a telescope, and can go about anywhere. (I may just be tempted myself with a telescope offer..). Anyways, her friends are jealous, as well as concerned, but she’s just head over heels in love with him, but then it gets twisted. Nothing in these movies ever goes that smoothly, or those relationships, despite our illusive fantasies. I mean sometimes they can work, but I don’t know many that have. We’ve all had fantasies of older men, as teenage girls, just as boys have had the same for some older women too. It’s the mystery and taboo that’s exciting.

So, after they are into their whirlwind romance, Amy goes to fix a bracelet that Derek gave her at the jeweler, after it broke. When she gave his name to the jeweler, she hears he bought two, and after going to that other address she discovers he has a wife, and children. I mean, did we not see that coming?! Then she confronts him about it and he says he wants a divorce and that Amy is the only one he wants. Classic line, time and again.

All the while why they are dating, from the start of their meeting Amy is also being harassed and stalked by someone maliciously. After finding out about his wife, she suspected it was her, but I’m not going to give it away if it was her or it wasn’t. This movie has got some good twists and turns and I really want you to watch it to find out the mystery stalker. Again, as I said earlier parts of this movie made me think of a situation I was once in and goodness, was that a time. Young women are very impressionable and as an older woman now, some of these older men preying on women’s young innocence is very predatory. Although, it might feel hot to be young and have an older guy, it is never an easy road, and you often find yourself in more of a mess. Still, it’s a great film and scenario that keeps your interest, and I love me a good wild romance.

Go ahead and give it a go if you’re looking for something cool to watch in that genre. I was actually pretty impressed with the quality, cinematography, and writing, and may you also enjoy some Cranberries, which I linked below.

Happy Filming

[abigailspinach]

It's like a total longshot

But it would be nice if the Dems flip the House

So we have Speaker Hakeem Jeffries on Jan 3rd

so no monkey business on Jan 6th.

Just in case?

https://thehill.com/homenews/campaign/4954436-democrats-house-control-republicans-defeat/

California has a few great seats in reach

Derek Tran versu

California-27: Mike Garcia

Second-term Rep. Mike Garcia (R-Calif.) represents a district north of Los Angeles that swung for Biden by 12.4 points in 2020, making him a prime target for Democrats.

His Democratic challenger, George Whitesides, was the first CEO of Virgin Galactic and was chief of staff of NASA during the Obama administration — a business-friendly resume that could blunt some of the GOP attacks on Biden and Democrats as the drivers of inflation.

LOS ANGELES — Derek Tran, a Democrat running for one of the most competitive House seats in the country, has touted his career as a trial lawyer to portray himself as a champion of underdogs. But some of his former clients could become a political liability, including one man who was fired after displaying a noose in his office.

The first-time candidate’s work representing plaintiffs in wrongful termination, discrimination, harassment and personal injury cases has come under the microscope as he mounts a vigorous challenge to Republican Rep. Michelle Steel of California in one of the races that could determine control of the House.

Trump let it slip that he has a little secret for just after election

They are going for the Russian book of stealing elections and installing a dictator. Just like in Belarus, Georgia and Venezuela.

Good luck, USA, you'll need it

[sterekchub]

Chubby Derek Prompt: Stiles works at an ice cream shop, and Derek comes in every day to flirt with him but can't quite work up the nerve. Meanwhile, Stiles can't exactly flirt in front of his manager but he keeps sneaking Derek extra ice cream or toppings in his sundaes. Cue Derek getting chubby from their courting.

So I turned this into a chubby!lawyer Derek story. Not a cohesive story…more like snippets into their relationship. I tried this new style…don’t think I like it so probably won’t be doing it again. But chubby derek is always my fav :) This one is more plot and my others are so far ending up as nothing but chubby banter. :)

I have more amazing prompts I’m working on, but feel free to submit more!

“Hi! Welcome to Freezer Treats.”

The guy ignores Stiles and starts looking at the menu like he had never ordered ice cream before. Judging by his physique he probably hadn’t. His dress shirt was tight, not obscenely so, but enough that Stiles was sure there was a six pack of abs under there and not the slightest hint of any pudge around his waist. The man and his suit looked like they came out of Armani catalogue. He had to be a porn star or a model; otherwise he was simply wasting a perfect opportunity to flaunt his good looks.

“If you don’t know what you want, I could make suggestions?”

“A small chocolate.”

“Umm, sure big guy. You like peanut butter?”

He gets a nonverbal nod in response. Oookay then. Cute, but not a talker. Stiles can work with that.

The credit card he gets handed is a company card from Wolfram Law and, if possible, Stiles swoons just a little bit more. Wolfram Law was one of the top law firms in New York, known for taking on some groundbreaking cases most attorneys would never touch.

So drop-dead gorgeous and intelligent enough to be in the most prestigious law office around. That makes Stiles more willing to forgive this mystery guy for the sour look on his face. Seriously, who frowns at ice cream?

Especially the triple scoop, chocolate peanut butter sundae, with extra peanut butter cups added.

Small nothing. The guy can clearly use the extra sugar.

***

“Hey, Sourwolf!”

The guy glares at him. “Stop calling me that.”

“I don’t know what else to call you. Your credit card just says Wolfram Law and I’m not calling you that.”

“Do you always read people’s credit cards?”

Stiles shrugs. “We’re supposed to check the names and the signatures. You don’t know how many people with stolen cards come in here. Who steals a card and gets ice cream? Seriously like, why not buy a plane ticket or jewelry or something.”

“How do you know I haven’t stolen this card?”

“You look like a lawyer,” Stiles grins. “The broody face, expensive suit…plus who would steal a card, use it at the same place for a week, and use it a block down from where they stole it? If you’re going to get arrested, go out in luxury on some private island, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

***

“Is that a joke? Stiles?”

“Seriously? You just noticed the name tag?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I write a fake name? I’m not trying to get fired.  Stiles Stilinski is my full name.”

“That’s not a real name.”

“Trust me, my real first name is awful. Stiles is way better.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll have you know the manager let me create the Stiles Surprise and it is a legendary dessert on campus.”

By legendary, he means a sugar overload of marshmallows, gummy bears, hot fudge, and a mix of four ice cream flavors that change depending on his mood. He hands it over and the lawyer raises an eyebrow – which Stiles has decided is the key to deciphering all his moods – but he takes it without complaint.

“Bye, Sourwolf!”

***

After two weeks, Stiles finally gets his name.

“You can just call me Derek, you know,” the man- Derek, apparently – says gruffly.

“What?”

“Derek Hale. That’s – I figured you knew.”

“How would I know that? You haven’t once introduced yourself.”

“Everyone around here knows the firm. I figured…” Derek shrugs, looking embarrassed. “Never mind.”

Stiles might – might- possibly brush his fingers against Derek’s while he hands over the waffle cone surprise – a waffle cone coated with two layers of chocolate and caramel.

“See you tomorrow, Derek.”

Stiles gets a smile that shows a bit too much teeth to be considered truly friendly, but it’s a start.

***

“It’s sinful,” Stiles moans to Scott, flopping down on the bottom bunk. “No one has a right to lick ice cream cones like that.”

“How have you not been fired?”

“I don’t talk about how he ��floats when he walks’ or has a ‘smile like sunshine’ or is ���the one true love of my life’ constantly.”

Scott smiles broadly. “Well she is. And at least I wasn’t giving her free food every day.”

“Hey he pays. For some of it. He needs to indulge his sweet tooth more often; I’m just helping him relax more.”

Scotts rolls his eyes and coughs. “Sure. That’s why.”

***

Stiles really hates the store’s policy. There was a strict no dating or flirting with the customers rule that came into place when Scott was fired. Allison smiled at him once and the entire soft serve mix he was holding had spilled over the floor – which was still sticky no matter how many times Stiles mops it. It wasn’t fair. Scott got fired, started dating Allison, and got a great job at her father’s company; Stiles is stuck with sticky floors and student loans that mean he really needs this job, no matter how hot Derek Hale is.  

He can’t figure Derek out. He stops into the store on a regular basis, always at the same time, exchanges some snarky banter of increasingly long duration with Stiles, then leaves. It has to be Derek’s way of flirting. Why else stop in so often?  Stiles loves ice cream more than anyone, but even he can’t eat it every single day.

Not that he’s complaining. It was slowly becoming noticeable that some extra weight was creeping unto Derek the last few months. Nothing too obvious, unless you were invested in memorizing his features like Stiles was, but Derek’s cheeks were starting to fill out slightly and there was a definite tightness where his pants had started digging into the small accumulation of fat around his waist.

Stiles feels only slightly guilty for hoping Derek decides to keep stopping in, his barely rounded belly growing to be a proper gut, while the rest of his body expands to match.

He definitely does not start giving Derek extra whipped cream on everything he orders.

***

The next time he comes in, Derek again orders a small ice cream and looks exasperated when Stiles hands him a large.

“I ordered a small. I always order a small.”

“The upgrade is on me. For my favorite customer.”

“You’re the reason my pants don’t fit.”

“You look fine to me. More than fine, actually. Like unacceptably hot.”

“These are a bigger pair,” Derek mutters.

Stiles does not check out his rounded ass on the way out and confirm his suspicious not all the weight is going to his stomach. Nor does he get a write up from his manager, who overheard him ‘inappropriately complimenting customers.’ Whatever.

***

When Derek next comes into the shop, a strikingly attractive blonde woman wearing a top far too revealing to be appropriate, is standing behind the counter, looking extremely bored.

“Is Stiles here?”

“Obviously not.” She studies him intently, then smirks at him. “You must be Derek. Stiles mentions you a lot.”

“I don’t want to know,” Derek sighs. “I’m sure it’s nothing good.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You’re as oblivious as he is.”

Derek orders a small milkshake. He gets a large one, piled with whipped cream and sprinkles.

“Stiles’ order.”

***

Derek actually orders a large sundae. Not to be outdone, Stiles gives him two extra brownies, topping it off with five scoops of cake batter ice cream and an ungodly amount of whipped cream.

“You should definitely order that every day.”

“I’ve gained twenty ponds since I started coming here, Stiles.” Derek teases, pinching at his love handles starting to spill over the waistband of his pants.

“So what’s twenty or thirty more?”

“Jesus, Stiles. You’re going to make me fucking fat.”

“Yep. Too late to stop now, buddy. You’ve been coming in every day for months, admit you’re totally addicted. And not that you weren’t amazingly good looking before but, chubby is a good look for you.”

***

Stiles stares for a solid twenty seconds at Derek when he walks in and hopes the arousal he feels isn’t terrible obvious. Derek’s shirt is stretched so tightly against his plump belly that Stiles can see skin between the buttons. He’s dying to just touch him, undo the buttons and squeeze and kiss and grab, now that there is so much more to Derek then when he had first come into the shop.

“Wow – hi, Derek. How was your Christmas?”

He pats his stomach and Stiles is extremely grateful he his standing behind the counter. “I definitely overdid it a few times.”

Derek orders a milkshake in addition to a sundae. Stiles isn’t sure his legs are going to support him for much longer.

“I don’t know, looks like you could fit more in there, big guy.”

“Guess I could handle two sundaes.”

Derek leaves with two less buttons on his dress shirt and a swollen stomach that Stiles wants to bury his face in.

***

“Stiles, this is my older sister Laura.”

Stiles waves cheerfully. “Anyone tell you that you have the same terrifying brooding face that Derek does?”

Laura laughs. “I like this one, Derek.”

She goes to order something and Derek shakes his head. “Don’t bother. Stiles has yet to listen to what someone actually orders.”

“Guilty as charged.” He gives them both his salted caramel toffee sundae.

Laura only eats half hers, then pushes the other half to Derek.

“Now I know why you’re getting chubby, Der,” she teases, putting a hand on Derek’s stomach. “I’d be huge if I ate like this every day.”“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Stiles grins. “Derek is keeping us in business. 

“You know, Stiles, we have an opening in our research division, if you wanted. Free donuts every morning in the breakroom…the chocolate ones have always been Derek’s favorites.”

Stiles waits until his manager is looking before surging forward and kissing Derek. (Stiles may also take one of the huge ice cream vats with him later that day. But hey, he’s quitting anyway. And chocolate is Derek’s favorite flavor).

***

[just-dreaming-marvel]

You Are Perfect

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes x PlusSize!Reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Summary/Request: Can you write an imagine with Bucky and a plus size reader (if your comfortable with it) and basically the reader was going on a date but they got stood up and the date said next time to tell people their weight before going out, making the reader insecure, Bucky sees them crying when the come back to the tower, so he then tells her to clean herself up cause he’s gonna take her out and he reminds and shows her how beautiful she is. The rest is just fluff and you can add to it.

Notes: I hope I did this justice. 

You never liked dating apps. You honestly didn’t know someone who really did. But Natasha insisted you get on one so that you could try and find someone. She even knew that you had a crush on Bucky, and still insisted that you get on a dating app. That only made you come to the conclusion that Natasha knew that Bucky didn’t feel the same. He was your best friend after all, and that was probably all you were going to be to him.

Natasha set up your profile, checking with you on the pictures to make sure you felt comfortable. It was hard for you to feel comfortable sharing pictures sometimes, especially when you knew you were bigger than a lot of other girls. After the pictures, Nat had done the swiping and eventually set up a date.

That date was tonight and both Natasha and Wanda were in your room getting you ready. They had picked the outfit, done your makeup and your hair, all without letting you peek. Wanda, with your permission, had made it so your eyes couldn’t see. Allowing them to work freely on you without any worries of you seeing.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky greeted, knocking on the door as he opened it. “Do you— uh, what’s going on here?”

“Y/N’s going on a date!” Wanda exclaimed.

“A… a date?”

“Yeah! We’re getting her ready.”

“Speaking of which,” Natasha added, looking you over, “we’re almost done.”

“Good because I’m getting nervous,” you commented, softly. “Do I… Do I look okay?” Bucky didn’t answer right away.

“You look beautiful. Right, Buck?” Natasha pressed.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered nervously. “You look great, Y/N. I’m just going to leave you guys to it.” 

He quickly shut the door. You deflated, shoulders shagging and head down. All you wanted was to impress Bucky, which obviously wasn’t happening.

“Na-huh, none of that,” Natasha said, guiding your head back up. “You look beautiful and you will have great time.”

“What’s his name again?” You asked.

“Derek!” Wanda excited answered.

“He enjoys a good beer, he works out,” Natasha began explaining. "He’s a lawyer, I think. Don’t worry, not one of Starks. And occasionally enjoys long walks in Central Park.”

“Wow,” you rolled your eyes. “Sounds like I should just marry him now.”

“Hey,” Nat playfully swatted at you. “Stop. Can you agree to at least try?”

“Fine.” 

You took a long look in the mirror. Your friends had really gotten an outfit that flattered you, so your confidence did begin to grow. You were going to be able to do this. You were going to be able to have fun and begin to move on from Bucky. At least, that’s what you had started to tell yourself.

~~~

You arrived at the restaurant first, nervously playing around with the napkin on your lap. You had immediately ordered a drink when you arrived so that you couldn’t feel too awkward waiting there. So wrapped up in your own nervous thoughts, you failed to realize that Derek was going on 20 minutes late. Maybe he was stuck in traffic?

“Do you want to begin ordering?” The kind waitress asked.

“No, I think I’ll—“ 

You were halted by your phone beeping. You glanced at it to see a notification from the dating app. Maybe it was Derek. You quickly opened the app and pressed into the notification.

Derek: You might want to warn a guy about your weight before a date next time. Or change the pictures on your profile to more accurately depict you.

The waitress tried to hold in a gasp as she read the message over your shoulder. There were immediate tears in your eyes. Letting out a trembling breath, you stood up.

“Ma’am, how about I get the chef to—“

“I’m fine,” you cut the waitress off. “I’m so sorry to waste your time.” With shaking hands, you pulled out an a hundred dollar bill that Tony had given you for emergencies. You set the bill on the table. 

“No, I can’t—“

“Please, for your troubles.” A few tears escaped your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

And you rushed out of the restaurant. The night was chilly and you had failed to bring a jacket. Looking around, you decided that you wanted to walk back to the Tower. You held onto your arms for warmth and you walked down the street and cried. When you got back to the Tower, your nose was red and running, not just from crying.

You were grateful that the Tower lobby was practically empty and that no-one entered the elevator with you. You wanted to go straight to your room, but your stomach had begun growling.

“FRIDAY?” You quietly called out to the AI.

“Yes, Y/N?” It responded.

“Is anyone in the kitchen?”

“At the moment, no. I do suggest you hurry. Sargent Barnes tends to get a drink around this time.”

With a sigh, you gave in to your stomach and allowed the elevator to stop on the common floor. You were on high alert as you headed for the kitchen, checking around every corner your came across. Eventually you made it to the kitchen, quickly grabbing a various amount of foods that you could carry. Struggling to see over the pile in your arms, you turned around and instantly ran into something—or someone. Causing everything you had grabbed to fly everyone.

“Yikes, doll,” Bucky chuckled. You quickly crotched down and began picking everything up. “Wait…” Bucky joined you. “Shouldn’t you still be out on a date?” 

You didn’t answer, you didn’t even make a move to look at him. You just kept your head down as you rapidly picked up everything.

“Hey,” Bucky said, setting his hand gently on yours. He leaned his head down, trying to get a look at your face. “Can you look at me, Y/N?”

“I’m…” you cleared your voice, having sounded like you had been crying. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Look at me.”

“Bucky…”

“Did he hurt you?” You didn’t respond, letting a tear fall down your cheek and off your chin. “Y/N, did he lay a hand on you?”

“I…” You let out a whimper. “He…”

“I’m going to kill him,” Bucky growled, standing up. “Stay here. I’ll be—“

“No, Bucky, don’t!” You quickly got up and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Please. He didn’t touch me, I promise.”

Bucky took in your blood shot eyes and tear stained face, and his heart felt like it could shatter into a million pieces. He stepped closer to you, slowly reaching up his hand to brush his fingers against your cheek. You looked away.

“What happened?” Bucky whispered. “Tell me, please. I just want to help.”

You licked your lips as you nodded. Taking in and letting out a shuttering breath, you closed your eyes and tried to pull your thoughts together.

“He… I… He was late. And I…” You looked down out your hands, fiddling with them. “I thought it was just traffic, but after almost 30 minutes I got a message… and, from what he said, he had to have come to the restaurant and then left… my weight...”

“And what did the message say?” Bucky pressed, his tone gentle and kind.

“It… it said that I should have warned him about my weight before the date.”

“Your weight?” Bucky was shocked and so confused. What did your weight have to do with anything?

“And that I should change my profile pictures to more accurately depict me…”

“What? What gave him the right to say any of that?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “But maybe—“

“No! No but maybe. You don’t believe any of that, right?” Bucky’s hands went to your shoulders and he moved his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, please tell me that you don’t believe a word that bastard said.”

“He’s not wrong… I’m not as small as many girls. I need to lose weight—”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no. Y/N, listen to me.” His hands moved to hold your face. “You are perfect just the way you are. Your weight is perfect for you. And you deserve better than that asshole. You hear me?”

“You’re saying those things because you have to… you’re my friend…”

Bucky shook his head slightly, wanting to tell you that it was more than that. That he wanted to be more than that. But he knew now was not the time.

“We’re going out,” he stated, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the elevator.

“No, Bucky,” you resisted, so tried too. “I really don’t feel like it. Plus there’s that mess—“

“Steve will clean it up in the morning. He’s always the first one up and OCD like that.”

“Bucky… I really don’t feel like going out.”

“Fine. Then we’ll stay in.” He led you into the elevator, only for himself to step back out of it. “Meet me in the movie room in 10 minutes. Change into something comfy.”

The doors began closing. “Bucky—“

“I’ll come up for you if you’re late.”

~~~

Though you didn’t want to, you did as you were told and met Bucky in the movie room 10 minutes later. You had changed into your comfiest, baggiest clothes, trying to hide your body from the world. When you arrived, Bucky had your favorite movie up on the screen, the popcorn machine going, and he was carrying blankets to the couch. That man worked fast.

“Right on time,” he smiled at you. 

“You really didn’t have to,” you replied, shyly. 

“Oh, I really did.” He plopped onto the couch, patting the spot next to him. “Come, sit.”

Fiddling with your sleeves you walked over and sat next to Bucky, making sure there was a decent amount of space between the two of you. Bucky sighed, noticing what you were doing but decided to give you your wanted space for a little bit. He started the movie and had FRIDAY dim the lights before handing you a blanket. 

Not long into the movie, the popcorn was done and Bucky went up to get it. He put it in a large bowl before sitting himself next to you. You inhaled sharply as he set the bowl between you and rested his arm behind you on the back of the couch.

It was the middle of the movie now and you reached into the bowl for some popcorn, at the same time Bucky did. Your eyes snapped to look at him. Without taking his eyes off of yours and before you could pull away, he carefully took your hand and brought it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“You are perfect,” he whispered, breath fanning over your hand. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

“Thank you, Bucky,” you breathed out. “For all of this. You really didn’t have to.”

“I couldn’t let my favorite gal’s night be completely ruined.”

“I’m your favorite gal?”

“Since day 1… you deserve better than a man who doesn’t see your worth.”

“And you think you’re that?”

“I’d like to try to be that for you. If you’d let me… so, Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me try and show you how perfect you are?”

You tried to suppress a smile. “I’d like that."

[maybege]

... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

*

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

*

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

*

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

*

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

[letarasstuff]

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

[hauntingmothgirl]

To Hell and Back PART 3

Hi so a lot of people liked that last part, thank you for the support, it really made me smile and made my day. If you have any suggestions/requests or want me to write a specific scene then feel free to ask, my dms are open, but for now here’s part 3! This series spans across the ending of season 4 if it wasn’t already clear enough.

✰

        The flight to Windsor, Ontario, Canada felt longer than it should have. Trying to avoid Spencer’s prying and profiling eyes was harder than it seemed. Even staring at her book wasn’t enough to keep him from noticing how long she had been on a single page. And the looks the team were now giving to a certain profiler who seemed to be studying every movement of his co-worker were hard to ignore. 

        By the time the plane had touched down, Y/n had cleaned up her space and was sitting on the edge of her seat, book in hand and satchel across her chest. As soon as it was clear to leave Y/n was out of her seat, mumbling a thank you to a flight attendant and hurrying down the steep steps. The normal cars they had assigned to them were directly outside, waiting for the team. Flinging an SUV door open and hurrying into the back, ducking behind the headrest, she tried her best to see over her hiding spot to check if the hour ride to R.C.M.P. Headquarters was going to be one filled with torture, or one filled with awkward silence. 

        She was just about to sit up, realizing how idiotic she looked and how stupid she would feel if someone spotted her when an uncoordinated Reid tried to hurry down the steps without looking, well… hurried. A grimace settled onto his face as he squinted through the sunlight trying to spot her. Rossi was next behind him, taking slow steps. Clapping a hand on his back and leaning in, Rossi muttered something in Reid’s ear, smiled and then started for the car. Reid’s demeanor shifted, his shoulders went stiff and then relaxed, his expression softened and then fell. He took off for the next car. 

        Y/n sat upright and stuffed her nose into her book as Rossi entered the car, pulling his seatbelt on before finally starting the car. “You can sit in the front if you like, you know?” He offered, looking up in the mirror to meet her eyes. Hesitating, she dropped her book and moved to the door. Settling into the front passenger seat, she forced herself to keep her eyes forward. The drive started out fine at first, Rossi didn’t try to make conversation and let the silence flow comfortably around them. After the first 20 minutes of driving and staring down endless highways, Y/n had grown restless and drew her book back to her, in need of something to occupy her mind. As she read her eyes grew heavy, sore, and her head fell forward slowly. Every so often she fought against closing her eyes fully and instead found herself sinking further and further into her seat. By the time she had woken up, the drive was over. 

  ✰

         “Come on Sunshine,” a voice laughed near her ear, startling her out of her sleep. Craning her now sore neck to peer up at the person who stood with her door open, trying to unbuckle her now, she rubbed her eyes. “Have a good nap?” He chuckled, taking her satchel from out of the backseat. She grimaced, taking his hands to help lift herself up, steadying her balance. “Where are we, Derek?” She asked, taking a look around. “Headquarters, they dropped your bags off at the hotel, told me to give you your room key for tonight. You were knocked out for a while, Rossi didn’t wanna wake you when we got to the hotel. Don’t worry, we didn’t go through any of your belongings,” he added with a smirk. Looking up at the headquarters, she smoothed her shirt and pulled her into a ponytail, trying to look decent, or at least as if she hadn’t been asleep for the past hour. “Thank you,” she mumbled, taking her satchel from his hands. “No problem.” 

           A thought popped into her head as she pulled the satchel onto her shoulder, “Aren't you supposed to be with Prentiss?” she asked, twisting to look for the other profiler. “Yes, mother,” he chuckled, “I’m heading there now, but the teams inside and I'm apparently on wakeup duty. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do,” he answered, walking backwards towards another SUV. “Drive safe,” she called after him, turning to the big building as he called back, “You know it.” 

        The building was big and red. Bigger on the inside than she anticipated, multiple floors, lots of bustle and busy people. The faint smell of peppermint and air freshener wafted to her nose. As she entered the building she caught sight of the rest of her team, giving a small smile as she started towards them. “Morning sleepyhead,” JJ cooed. Her stomach did flip flops as she came to a stop in front of them, locking eyes with Spencer. “Very funny,” she retorted as the team started to set a stride. 

        A small elevator sat at the far end of the room, a door titled, “Stairs Access,” stood just across from it. On any normal day Y/n would’ve chosen the stairs, she had always had a problem with the close quarters of an elevator, the uncertainty and danger of such an unstable device had always left her off put. But a long way to the ninth floor on the stairs would not only be physically tiring, but would most definitely be accompanied by a certain doctor to her left who had been dying to talk to her alone. Still, the team became increasingly interested when Y/n stepped in with them. “Someone’s getting brave, huh?” JJ chuckled, “Just too tired to deal with the stairs today.”

        The hallway the doors opened to was short and led out to a giant office full of people. Tan walls extended on each side, the tiles on the floor reflected the lights above them. A man met Rossi in the entrance of the room, exchanging pleasantries and introducing the team, it was impossible not to notice the way Spencer’s gaze kept flickering to hers. Two red offices stood at the far end of the room and the room to the right of them. Walking in between the desks and making his way to one of the rooms, Jeff led the team, “I've got a victim board and timelines set up on monitors in the conference room. Anything you need, you've got the run of the place.” 

         “We appreciate it,” Rossi replied lightly.” “Don’t thank me, Thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge.”

        Something about that last remark hit Y/n the wrong way, wrinkling her nose in agitation. JJ excused herself to go talk to Garcia as Y/n took in the room. A long conference table sat in the middle of the room, six chairs pushed into it. A tv hung on the left wall, faces of the victims littering the screen. Rossi took in the site, then moved around the table to make room for Reid and Y/n. Following Reid, she took a second to go over the tv soon realizing that she had already seen the pictures in the file JJ had supplied her with. Realizing that everyone’s backs were to them, Spencer made the quick decision to steal a look at her. Turning on her heel to walk away from the screen, her eyes reached his, the pleading look on his face was enough to make her stomach turn. Guilt flooded her, all he probably wants is his best friend back, this isn’t fair to him. Did I ruin our friendship?  Turning around to take her place next to Rossi. “You believe that he killed all these people?” Reid asked, his eyes turning back to the screen, “Fits the profile,” Officer Jeff responded absentmindedly. “How so?” Rossi asked, clearly quizzing his former student, everyone in this room knew of the Unsubs history, but Jeff answered nonetheless. “He got a recent physical trauma. Could be a stressor. Wide disparity of victims. No bodies. Possible border cross. Two entirely different terrains,” He paused, “To pull that off, you'd have to be smart, you'd have to be organized, mobile, physical.” His missing leg ran through Y/n‘s mind once again, before the accident this all could’ve been possible, but now? After such physical trauma? It didn't make sense. 

        “Military background gives you all that,” Rossi finished for him.

 “Exactly,” Officer Bedwell hummed.

        “It appears as though he clusters his victims into men, then women, and then back to men again.” Spencer’s voice raised in tone, confusion heavy in his voice. 

        “What does that tell you?” Officer Bedwell asked.

“At the moment, nothing.”

        They were informed that he hadn’t contacted family, nor a lawyer and was awaiting an interrogation. Hotch was the last person to talk, deducing that since this man had contacted the FBI, he would want to speak to whoever he believed was the most in charge. 

        The interrogation room was dimly lit, only one light directly overhead, the room behind the glass was filled with two officers, Rossi, Reid and Y/n. Crammed into the few chairs there were, Y/n watched, her brows furrowed, as Hotch sat down at the table. William was a tall man, broad shoulders and muscular arms, he sat in silence, a detached look sewn onto his features. A black goatee rested above his lips, his hair was cropped in a buzz cut, understandable due to his military background. His body shows his training too, he sat straight up, shoulders back, hands on his thighs, his legs slightly spread. The pinnacle of perfect posture. 

        It was silent as Hotch announced himself as the behavioral analysis unit chief from the FBI. William’s face didn't change as his eyes lifted to Hotch’s, “You’re here to analyze me.” This wasn’t a question, but a statement. “No, I’m here to take your confession and find out where you dumped your victims,” Hotch corrected. Y/n could see the technique Hotch was using beginning to form, diminishing any hope of negotiation. Setting himself in charge in the room and demanding the attention, making it clear that this was Hotch’s room, not Heightower’s, taking away any slimmer of wiggle room around the conversation. He continued, “Or are you wasting my time?” 

        Y/n’s boss was always great at keeping his voice firm but somewhat monotone when speaking to unsubs, not letting emotion intercede unless it was directly needed. “I gave you names, I gave you dates.” William bounced around the subject, his voice low and gravely, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours. Hotch reigned the conversation back onto topic easily, “You didn’t give me a dump site.” It was silent for a moment, as if an unspoken staring contest had started, the Unit Chief’s jaw was set, William was withholding information and he wasn’t intending on opening up anytime soon. “You were a sergeant,” Hotch started, again not a question, a statement intended to gain an emotional reaction, “You led troops, probably lost men.” Y/n’s eyes flickered to William’s just as he let out a hesitant, “a few.” 

        “What would their parents feel if they didn’t know whether their sons were dead or alive?” Hotch tried. The tension shifted uncomfortably. A cord was struck, “Don’t lecture me on notifying families, I’ve been on those doorsteps,” as William spoke his voice rose slightly from the whisper it had started out as. He’s protective of these men, his angry tone shows Hotch’s words affect him, why is he trying so hard to make us not see that? “No one cares about those people, why should I?” His head shakes as he says it, even his own body is rejecting the words he’s saying, subconsciously disagreeing with them. Hotch’s words have caught him off guard, this technique is making him emotional.

        Rossi’s voice interrupts Y/n’s thoughts, “Here we go.” 

        “What do you mean?” An officer to the right of Y/n’s chair asks, he leans against the interrogation window, unknowingly making her scoot her legs closer to herself. He mindlessly takes up so much of the little space beside her that she cringes uncomfortably away from him. “An interrogation doesn’t really start until you get the first lie,” Rossi finishes, so he picked up on it too. Hotch’s voice silences all of them as he resumes the conversation through the glass, “See that’s just the thing William, you were out there every night. You took their photographs, you checked off their names in a notebook,” William remains blank as he mutters, “So?” Hotch grimaces at the answer and then continues, “Your behavior was more like a protector, like someone in the army doing a bed check.” If Hotch’s words resonate with anything at all to him, he doesn’t show it and lets him continue. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to confess to a crime you didn’t commit,” Hotch accuses. 

        Suddenly all reservation in William is gone, his lips quiver as he spits the words out angrily, “The folks on the street, did they tell you people were missing?” It's like he’s trying to prove their absence rather than his own guilt. 

        “If my team is here there are cases we are not working on, you are wasting our time.” 

        “10 people dead, huh?” Swallowing harshly, scowling, challenging Hotch, “That’s not enough for you?” 

        “I’ve watched the tape of you at the border cross over and over again, you wait until every guard is out of the booth before you drive into it,” Hotch raises his voice, as he leans closer to the table, “if you wanted to kill people you had your chance.” 

        William’s voice is booming now, his face enraged, “Are you investigating these murders or not?!” His whole body shakes violently as silence fills the room. “So that’s what this is all about?” Hotch questions, “Making sure we investigate?” What a way to do so. “If you thought people were being killed you should’ve gone to the police in Detroit.” Another shudder rips through William, “I already did,” his voice is low as it break. “3 times. They told me the kind of people I was looking for disappeared.” His voice trembled, the light reflecting off tears in his eyes, “They said that’s the way life on the street works.” Silence enveloped them again. 

        Struggling to keep his composure, he enunciated every word, “Do. You. Believe. The. People. I. Showed. You. Are. Missing?” 

        “I believe it's possible.”

        Rage wracked through his frame once again, “Don’t give me a political answer!”

        Hotch hesitated, giving himself a moment before he responded, “Tell me about what happened the night before the border cross.” William opened his mouth and then shut it before starting, “I did a head count,” he began. “Every night for the past month, like we do in Baghdad. That night I saw a boy named Charles wasn’t where he usually camped down.” The mention of a boy sends a pang of pain through Y/n’s chest, wondering how old the boy must have been. Hopefully he had meant a young man, rather than a young boy. The idea of a child in the case was a sore subject. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she hoped she hadn't shown any visible signs of discomfort. 

        “So I made another pass.”

“He didn’t turn up?”

        “By the morning I knew he was gone,” another scowl had set on his face, though this time it wasn’t targeted at the man across from him. “William,” Hotch started, sympathy thick in his voice, “People don’t do what you did out of honor.” He paused, “They do it out of love.” William’s lack of a response was enough to confirm their suspicions. “Who were you looking for on the streets every night.” His brows furrowed as William prepared himself before continuing, “I got home from Iraq, first thing my mother told me was that my baby sister Lee was on the streets.” Y/n’s heart sunk, with the way he’d been acting there was no way this story was going to end well. Rossi must have noticed it too because out of the corner of Y/n’s eye she watched him shake his head slightly, turning away from the glass before coming back to it, exhaling roughly. 

        William continued, “She asked me to find her.”

        “But you couldn’t?” Hotch pried.

        “I managed once. Brought her home, we got her fed.” His eyes fell, staring longingly as his voice broke yet again, “She even wore my dog tags. For good luck.” Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, sighing. No matter how long you were on this job, no matter what horrors you’d seen, it never gets easier to hear from the relatives of people who’ve gone missing. The team was evidence of that, Rossi’s head was to the side, face contorted in uncomfort. The officers sat quietly, staring at their laps. Though Hotch had to remain indifferent in order to keep control of the room, his face was no longer hard and stern. While he held his lips together in a tight line, a deep sadness sat behind his eyes, something only his colleagues who’d worked with him for so long would pick up on. 

         “Two weeks later, she slipped back onto the streets.” Composure was no longer an option for William, his breathing came out in short, quick breaths as his chest visibly shook. The tears spilled over, “That was it,” he barely managed to let out, another shaky breath in.

         “William, you’ve got so much information about the other potential victims, why not Lee?” Hotch asked, though this was a raw subject, it was still vital to know. Blinking rapidly in order to control the tears and reign his emotions back in, Heightower replied, “I hid it in a spare tire, in my car.” That explained why none of the team had any knowledge about Lee, organized and brilliant, William had intentionally left her out of the files he created for us. He wouldn't have even been considered had the officers known how close he really was to one of the victims, Y/n pondered. “I needed to wait until I was sure,” while the tears had stopped and his breathing was now in control, his hands still shook slightly under the table as he finished, “that you were on board.”

         That was all the team needed to hear, Frankie excused herself from the room. Walking down the hall as she assembled her thoughts. The car would definitely be in evidence somewhere, how they hadn’t managed to find the new piece of the puzzle was surprising, confused she wandered the hall trying to find the stairs. 

        The sound of the stairwell door opening made Y/n falter. She’d reached a platform between the set of stairs, eyes glancing to the door at the end of the platform that would take her to the hallway. Stairwells were where most assaults happened, but due to the fact that she was in a police department, she pushed that thought to the back of her head and continued to the next set of stairs. It wasn’t until she heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps behind her, that she realized she should have taken her chances with the elevator. 

        “ Y/n?” A pang of dread ran through her body in slow waves. Turning slowly on her heel, her eyes met Dr. Reid’s. His face was contorted, his eyes fixed on the ground, then fluttered back up to hers. “I-” 

        “Did I miss something on Heightower?” His eyebrows furrowed, confusion making it’s way on to his features. 

        “No- I just-” 

“Does this have anything to do with this case or a previous one?”

        “No-”

“So this is not work related?”

        “No, it’s not, but-”

        “Then we should not be having this conversation.” Starting back down the stairs, he was next to her in a moment. “I know that, but the other night I didn’t mean to make it seem like-” “Spencer,” her nose scrunched up in uncomfort. “Please, don't do this.” Another flight of steps was through. At this point she was counting them down in her head. 

        “Y/n, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, it just seemed like the worst time and I didn’t want you to-” “Spencer, please.” One more flight to go. 

        “Okay but give me a moment to-” 

         “Spencer!” 

        Blinking back tears, she tried to reason with him. “That was the single most humiliating thing I’ve ever done. Just having to look you in the eyes right now is unbelievably painful. Knowing that our friendship will probably never go back to the way it was is killing me and you bringing attention to it every five seconds is making it worse,” she rambled. “I mean for God’s sake Morgan won't stop trying to profile me and Hotch looks at me like a kicked puppy. I can tell everyone here is second guessing my decision to come back and I’m already having a hard enough time proving that I’m okay without your worried glances making everything worse so please. Give me some space, some time before I have to have this conversation with you.” 

        Spencer’s eyes flickered down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

        “I just can’t do this right now Spencer.” Opening the door and entering the lobby she made her way to an officer, flashing her badge and asking where the evidence storage room was.

✰

okay that’s part 3, again, i hope it didn’t disappoint. and if it did then, again, that's chill too. tagged everyone who wanted a part 3. i know it was pretty long but i wanted to get a lot of the dialogue out of the way so i can focus on the reader and spencer in the next couple parts, rather than just the case, although that is pretty important. thank yall so much for the kind words!! and again if you have any suggestions or recommendations just ask, and if you want to be tagged in part 4, let me know! if you want me to stop tagging you then let me know that too lol. part 4 will be up tomorrow. have a beautiful day loves :)

@anarchy-n-glitter i love you sm, thank you for the support lol.

@reidselle​

@doctorspenceryeet​

@ashwarren32

@reidsbookclub​

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist

[glowingspence]

Tying memories

Summary: Hotch and Spencer are half-brothers. Hotch has a hard time with having Spencer on his team.

Prompt: AU

Warnings: Past Child Abuse

A/N: This was written for the Aaron Hotchner appreciation week. You can find other submissions under @hotchappreciationweek . Thank you for creating this, I love participating in this.

(Ao3 link will follow soon)

“Be careful!” Hotch exclaims when Derek knocks Spencer over while training with him.

“Hotch man, this ain’t gonna work. You have to leave.” Morgan points out and helps Spencer up from the floor, “I get you are his big brother but you asked me to train with him and I am not gonna hurt him but you have to trust me.”

“Is that okay?” He asks Spencer skeptical, “Is it okay if I go upstairs? Derek can call me any time.”

“Sure.” Spencer just shrugs.

“Okay” Nervously Hotch looks at Derek, he doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like this at all. “Please be careful.”

“I will.”

“Tell him if he makes you uncomfortable.” Hotch looks at Spencer with a scolding expression who just nods while rocking back and forth on his feet, “I will be out of your hair then.”

When Gideon had started talking about the genius he met, the kid that would perfectly fit into their team, the man that caught him so off guard, he hadn’t expected to stand in front of his step brother a few months later for a job interview.

They grew up in the same house, at least for some years until his father had enough of Spencer and sent him to live with his sick mother shortly before Hotch moved to college.

He had seen the kid whenever he could but with Spencer moving from college to college and with Hotch being caught up in his job, he eventually maybe once a month picked up the phone to make sure he has everything he needs, sending him money when he has his first job as a lawyer.

So when Spencer stood in front of him, it had been a blessing and nightmare all in one that he seems to not be able to escape because while he loves having him around the house and in his team, whenever he sees him in the field, he feels like he is going to be sick.

He knows he isn’t the small boy anymore that he rocked to sleep or the kid he tried to feed when all he did was scream from the top of his lungs but with every gruesome picture he hands him, with every time they board the jet to fly to a city where a serial killer is on the loose, he feels like wrapping him in bubble wrap and shielding him from everything bad in the world, just like he did when his father was drunk and he hid him under his bed.

“How is the training going?” Gideon questions when he meets Hotch in the kitchen.

“I was kicked out. I couldn’t watch it.”

“Aaron-” He starts and places his mug down, “You gotta give him some space.”

“I am giving him plenty of space.”

“You have to trust him.”

“You dragged a nineteen year old to the FBI, only because he is older now doesn’t mean I will forget that.”

“It was his decision.”

“I don’t care.” In the beginning everyone thought this would end after a few weeks of Spencer being in the academy and for a while it actually got better but the moment Spencer joined the team, Hotch went back to the beginning, making Gideons life a living hell for planting the thought into Spencer’s head, that this is a good idea and by now even he thinks Hotch will maybe not come around.

“When will Spencer be home?” Haley asks while cooking dinner, “Should I cook his dinner already?”

“He is out with Morgan.” Hotch tells her.

“That’s a good thing isn’t it? You were so worried about him not getting along with the rest of the team.” Haley reminds him. “And Agent Morgan is a great guy, he will have an eye on him.”

“They are at a bar, Spencer hates bars.” Hotch points out and checks his phone again.

“He needs to learn to voice when he doesn’t want something on his own, I can’t imagine Derek forcing him to go there.”

“But Spencer doesn’t say anything, alright?” He snaps, “He is probably sitting there and feeling horrible, I will pick him up.”

“Don’t” Haley hurries after him, grabbing his arm, “Let him have some peace.”

“He can have peace in this house.”

“Aaron-” Haley tries again but Hotch rips his arm away, grabbing his jacket and aims for the door, “He is not a little boy anymore!” She yells, “Spencer has grown up, he is a man with his own life. I get that you are scared for him and I can’t even imagine what you two have been through but you need help, this is not okay.”

“You are right, you have no idea, so please, stay out of this.” Right when he grabs the doorknob Haley speaks up again.

“If you keep controlling him like this, he will leave. He loves you, he loves you so much but he got through life for many years without you and he will continue if he has to.” She starts, “He is comfortable here because it’s you and me and he obviously needs some help with things but he didn’t have that for most of his youth, so what makes you think, that when he even gets the slightest feeling, that you could turn into his father, that he won’t pack up his things and leave?”

“I am not my father.”

“Exactly, but you are, right now, controlling every aspect of his life, you work with him, you live with him and now that he wants to do something on his own, you try to be there too.” She tells him, “I know you don’t do this to hurt him, but you have to give him some space or your intentions won’t matter.”

“I just want to protect him.” He whispers, a tear running down his face as he grips the jacket in his hands with strength.

“Oh honey, I know.” She walks over to him and pulls him into a hug, “You two are not in any danger anymore.”

Spencer comes home in the late evening, more than slightly drunk stumbling through the door to see Hotch standing there with crossed arms, looking at him with an amused expression while Spencer tries getting out of his shoes until he pleadingly looks up to his older brother, “Sit down.” With a chuckle Hotch crouches down in front of him and starts loosening the shoelaces on his converse, “How much did you have?”

“A few cocktails and there was a group of girls giving out shoots to us.”

“What are a few exactly?”

“Four cocktails and five shoots.”

“Kid-” Hotch wants to lecture him, that he can not drink that much if he never drank before but bites his tongue, “Did you have fun?”

“A lot. Derek and I talked a lot.”

“You like him?” Hotch questions.

“A lot.” Hesitant Spencer moves his finger over the fabric of Hotch’s sweater, “Maybe a lot to much?”

“You mean romantically?” 

“Don’t be mad!” Spencer immediately yells and pulls his hand back, rocking back and forth on the floor, “I am sorry, I am sorry.”

As he starts sobbing, Hotch closes him into his arms, muffling the noise when the younger man presses his face against him, “I am not mad, I would never be mad at you for something like this.”

“I am sorry I am into guys. I know you don't like that I spend so much time alone with Derek.” He brings out and Hotch hugs him even tighter, “Please don’t hate me.”

“You can love whoever you want, I don’t care.” Hotch stammers out, “You will always be my little brother okay? I could never hate you. I love you so so much.”

“I am sorry, I am sorry.” Spencer keeps bringing out between sobs while Hotch holds him, rocking them back and forth while the words from Haley really sink in, because while Hotch maybe can protect him from anything else, he can’t from the memories they already have and maybe it’s time to at least in some moments, let Spencer go again because in the end, he will always be the person he will come back to, as long as he doesn’t messes this up. Again. 

[irish-urn]

LWD: “All Systems No Go”

I cannot believe that Nora hasn’t scolded Derek yet. Why didn’t she say anything about him dying the whites pink, using the neighbours’ pool, or dismissing Casey? She should have said something; this is why Derek is the way he is.

(Also, Casey’s proposed system? Whites, colours, and delicates? We literally use that in my house of 6 people: there are three hampers by the bedrooms for lights, colours, and hots, and us girls have our own delicate loads that we’re responsible for. It works great and causes zero problems.)

Okay, so Emily is now Casey’s “best friend”. Is it because she has no other friends? (I’m not trying to be rude, just making a judgement call.)

And “muddle along”? That’s Nora admitting that things aren’t going super well; why aren’t the adults making more of an effort to get things organized? Will I find out before the end of the episode? Tune in to find out!

(And totally off topic, but I like that Casey wears a lot of pinks, purples, and pretty clothes. I like that she wears sweat pants around the house, but makes sure her makeup is decent (I know this is TV, but still). I just like that she cares about her appearance because, one, that’s very insecure teenage girl behaviour; and two, some girls really like looking pretty (I am one of them), and I like that (so far at least), no one has pointed it out as a flaw and it’s just okay. Like, she’s not overly made-up or making huge efforts, but she does try to look presentable, and, I dunno. I’m probably not wording it right, but it both fits her personality and is something I understand.)

Insight into the Venturi-life before the McDonalds entered their world. I can totally see why Edwin and George are happier and Derek is not. If I was a fifteen-year-old boy, I would also prefer messy tables and a take-out jug.

OH GOSH, DEREK CAME OUT WITH THE TOWEL AND SAID, “Can there be anymore chlorine in that pool?” and I actually gasped, “OH GOSH” out loud and had to pause it. WHY IS HE SO DUMB???

The more I learn about George, the more I wonder how the hell he became a lawyer. He’s kinda a dumbass. Or, at least, incredibly clumsy and easily distracted and has trouble focusing— OH GOSH, I UNDERSTAND WHY DEREK IS LIKE HE IS. If George is easily distracted and unable to focus and is trying to raise 3 children by himself, Derek can do whatever he wants because George just doesn’t have time to notice. WOW. EPIPHANY.

(He needs a Norganizer.)

EVERY SCENE WITH PAUL IS GOLD, I don’t know if him or Lizzie are my favourites. Watching his watch and going, “Huh, it must be late” and then Casey barging in with, “I am so sorry I’m late” I LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH.

Okay, so yes, Casey likes structure — but can we blame her??? Honestly, if this show was more of a drama and less of a comedy, I think it’d be so easy and so fulfilling to have Paul talk with her about the divorce and all the changes in her life, and how she overcompensates other aspects of her life to make up for all the things in her life she can’t control. (It’s also why I think as she gets older, and as she figures out a relationship with Derek, she would be able to go with the flow more, because she wouldn’t feel so off-balanced. Once she felt grounded and safe in her life and relationships, I think she could handle more flexibility and mess, but she’s never gonna be a “chill” person.)

I can also see that Derek kept George on task as a parent as much as Casey kept Nora on task, but his methodology is very different. ALSO!!! THEY FORGOT TO PICK UP LIZZIE AND EDWIN?!?! THOSE POOR CHILDREN. And Edwin knowing this was going to happen: what was the Venturi house like????

(And George looks very good in pink, I gotta say.)

How is Derek literally the only person not wearing pink? How did he manage that?

Casey’s blow-up at Nora is totally justified by the way — and don’t think I didn’t notice Nora saying, “You need to calm down.” Wow. Like, Casey is completely right; Nora isn’t taking the situation seriously. As soon as Edwin and Lizzie were left at school, Nora and George should have immediately starting thinking about how to fix things; and Marti playing with Casey’s stuff??? She could’ve gotten sick!!! THOSE ARE CHEMICALS. WHAT IF SHE SWALLOWED ANY OF IT; HOW COULD NORA JUST SAY, “She’s just a little kid.” NORA!!!

George’s parenting style is just... So... No???

HE JUST BARGED INTO HER ROOM AGAIN???? WHILE SHE’S ON THE PHONE??? (added to the tally) No wonder Marti thinks she can play with other people’s stuff; Derek thinks the whole world belongs to him.

“Is that Emily? Can you tell her to, like, stop staring at me when I swim?”

Okay, that entire exchange is hilarious writing, but also: Derek. One: It’s not your pool!!!! And two: You have every right to feel objectified and uncomfortable and I feel so much better about that line in NWF when he complains about getting his bicep squeezed. Derek doesn’t like unwanted attention either, even though he’s a peacock when he does want it.

BLESS DEREK. He actually realizes he’s pushed George too far and immediately goes into “fix-it” mode, and thinks, “Casey.” HE THOUGHT OF CASEY BEFORE GEORGE DID. 

This episode is such an insight into the Venturis, and George and Derek’s relationship. They literally are more like friends than father-son, except one friend mostly mocks the other.

LIZZIE. LIZZIE. LIZZIE BAKING, OH BLESS HER HEART. I cannot; they’re gonna taste so bad, but her heart is so big.

And Derek and Casey fighting the whole time, not saying anything because they don’t wanna bother George, but pushing and shoving each other, gosh. I love it.

IS AMY (Derek’s date) WEARING THE SAME BUTTERFLY PIN AS CASEY WAS EARLIER THIS EPISODE??? SOMEONE CHECK FOR ME BECAUSE OH MY GOSH, THAT MEANS SOMETHING. AND she’s a reader??? Oh my gosh, I cannot. And she actually doesn’t have an issue helping Derek take care of the kids: this one is a keeper.

Also, Derek called her hot earlier... And she’s, like, not crazy hot. Like, not popular hot, or not what I anticipated seeing at all. THIS IS A WHOLE NEW INSIGHT INTO DEREK, OH MY GOSH. Again, I feel so justified by having him simp for Casey’s nerdiness. Wow.

...That flowchart is a disaster. Casey might be able to follow it, but please, consider: George and Edwin. (Derek’s never gonna look at it, and Lizzie is used to Casey’s insanity). $10 Derek wipes it blank before the week is out— OH GOOD, SHE SAW THE LIGHT. Lists are good too.

...So, uh. I had a lot of thoughts about that one too. Wow.

Serious question: Do you guys mind me basically live-blogging like this or would you want more of a summary? I’m having a blast, but if it’s too much for y’all, please let me know.

[cyarskj1899]

The audacity of caucasity is galling, to put it mildly. It’s high-key infuriating that people who have committed some of the most atrocious crimes in modern history believe that they should get a soft spot to land. That’s not how this works. Pardon, that’s not how any of this is supposed to work. The late great Paul Mooney is famous for coining the phrase “the complexion for the protection” but best believe there will be problems if that applies to this case… Gregory McMichael, the man who murdered Ahmaud Arbery for being Black, is now begging the court for leniency in his federal hate crimes case according to the AP. McMichael’s defense attorney A.J. Balbo calls himself making an argument for his client but all we hear are reasons that his client’s racist a** should never touch free grass for the rest of his undeserved days amongst the living.

However, despite all those devilish deeds, Balbao asked that his client only be sentenced to 20 years arguing that McMichael shouldn’t receive more time than Derek Chauvin. Derek f*ing Chauvin! When your lawyer is arguing for you in the context of another racist, murdering, piece of sh!t, then your battleship is truly sunk.

Ahmaud didn’t get any mercy yet this guy wants leniency?!?

If it’s one thing that white folks do have especially people like him it’s definitely the audacity and the caucasity

Throw him under the jail!