#I think some people just like finding things to hate about Doctor Who and it makes me really sad

[youabsolutewalnut]

I think the bi-generation is genuinely such a good way of ushering in the NuNuWho era tbh. When RTD started the 2005 reboot, he gave The Doctor all this trauma and backstory with Gallifrey being destroyed. It was a very slow process to get him to open up about it to anyone, and even then, The Doctor hasn't stopped to process anything since. Bookending the era with the earliest post-time war Doctor (that would come back to the show. I miss you Eccleston) getting to slow down, spend the rest of his regeneration finally dealing with everything that's happened, and heal? Gorgeous. After 13 bottling up all her emotions, The Doctor needs this to be able to move on and grow, but therapy sessions and grocery shopping aren't exactly great sci-fi. This bit needs to happen off-screen because it can't be fixed with just a couple of conversations. And having 14 do it instead of 15 lets us jump straight into 15 with the personality we see in the special.

Now, Ncuti and RTD can start the next era with a new chapter of the story with a cleaner slate, letting The Doctor evolve in ways we haven't seen before. Fleshing out the timeless child / flux and exploring what repercussions the salt had are the new backstory, just like the time war started the last era. (Ik a lot of people hate tc but I think it's an unfinished story that I'm willing to see through to the end) I think it will be refreshing and exactly what we need to reinvigorate the character and the show as a whole.

[tardis--dreams]

To summarize today's day in university:

- got diagnosed with social phobia by a class mate (bitch?!)

- heard a Very cool lecture/presentation by a guest lecturer

- our lecturer said she kinda liked our idea for our presentation

- had lunch with friends in the uni canteen which was nice but evoked some existential despair

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Overly Cautious

Prompt: Katakuri comes back from a mission to learn you're pregnant despite never wanting to be a father.

Requested by anonymous

Katakuri X Fem Reader

Katakuri had been sent on a mission to retrieve something, leaving you alone, having you stand in as the Minister of Flour while he was away. Everything was going well; you had done this plenty of times in the past. But some of the workers had noticed you not eating as much, you’d wave them off without a concern. The concern really came when a cake was being made and just the smell of it made you want to vomit.

         You couldn’t hide it from anyone, you were in the middle of a meeting about the upcoming tea party and what pastries would be served. Everyone forced you to see a doctor, no one wanting to deal with the wrath of your husband if he got back to find you sick.

         And that’s how you ended up in the ward, a doctor running tests and looking you over. Much to your dismay numerous curious eyes also making sure you wouldn’t leave this forced appointment. “And when was the last time you were sexually active?” The question threw you off guard, nearly spitting out the tea that you had been allowed to drink.

You’re face burning red as you whip your head around to look at those who had forced you here. None of them dared to make eye-contact with you, some whistling while looking off in a random direction. They tried to protest when you kicked them out, but you refused to discuss such things in front of so many people. Once the door was finally closed the doctor, who was not too amused asked the question again. “It’s been a little a while, 7 or 8 weeks I think,” Thinking back to the last intimate night you had with Katakuri, he’d been so busy lately that it’d had been longer than normal.

The doctor wrote some notes down and continued with other questions before doing some blood tests. You sat back, expecting this to be a simple flu. That would give you a headache, you’d be forced to bedrest as to not spread it and not slow down progress. The doctor padded his way back into the room, flipping through the papers reading the results of everything he had tested for. “Well, it seems as though you’re pregnant.”

         You took the rest of the day off to think about things. Katakuri had adamantly told you he didn’t want children. He didn’t want to pass down his genes in fear of what could happen, you understood his concerns and agreed to not try. And while you were sexually active, contraceptions were used at every avenue, Birth Control, Condoms, Spermicide, even a Plan B if there was a thought of something going wrong.

         Katakuri would be getting back from his mission in a couple days, so it’s best to just wait until then. Can’t be announcing things like this. As much as you’d prefer to sweep this under the rug, Big Mom was someone who didn’t partake in abortions, wanting a large family and everything, it’d be counter-productive in her mind. So as much as you wanted too, you’d have to go to a different island, and that included having Katakuri with you to avoid Big Mom’s gaze.

         But your plans changed quickly, despite clearly telling the Doctor to keep the news secret, the next day you arrived to the office with banners and some tastefully small cakes. Cards going around with small gifts as though it was common place to celebrate so early on. You tried to get them to calm down, but everyone was overjoyed that their leader finally had an heir on the way.

~~~

         Katakuri stared off into the distance, leaning against the wall as the ship got closer to their homeland. It had been a pointless mission, delivering a letter to a foreign country, demanding there be talks of a marriage. He hated being away from Komugi island for too long, from his normal job as the Minister of Flour. There he’d at least be able to relax a little bit more than normal, and when he was with you, he could let his guard down completely. Trusting you to cover for him or tell him if someone was coming. Being on a ship where he refused to lay down in fear of prying eyes had taken a toll on him, no matter how short the trip was.

         As the ship docked some of his administrators found him, happy as ever with large smiles. He wasn’t listening too much to their words of congratulations, assuming it was just words on finishing the mission, he just wanted to make it home so he could finally sleep on his back.

         As he was bidding farewell to those around him, one of them said something rather confusing, “Ah, tell Y/N that the mid-wife will be around to talk to her next week. I forgot to let her know earlier.” A mid-wife? For his Wife? Katakuri swallowed the lump in his throat, reasoning that it had to have been due to some unforeseen baby boom in the town.

         But as he passed through the halls of his home, he noticed servants scurrying about more than normal. All with excited faces, some with parcels in their hands. It wasn’t until he got to your room pushing the door open to see you sitting at your tea table, a hand rubbing your forehead, “If it’s another gift then send it back. How many times do I need to tell you all to keep this quiet.” Your tired voice brushing past him while you waved your hand, not even looking in the direction of the door.

         You heard the door close and let out a heavy sigh, looking to the already inconvenient pile of baby toys, clothes, and furniture that people of the island had pushed onto you. Nobody in this god forsaken town could keep quiet, which would make things so much harder, if Big Mom got word of this, you were more than certain you wouldn’t be able to pass off a random miscarriage without her knowing the truth.

         “What is all this?” You jumped a bit, hearing your husbands voice. You never even got word of his arrival to the island, much less that he had already come home.

         “We need to talk.” You voice was serious as you looked over at him, he was staring down at you unmoving. “Why not sit down?” He stayed still, crossing his arms for an explanation and you sighed again, this wasn’t normal for him, but you were already too tired to deal with it.

         Your sigh caused Katakuri to take another step further, “I get that you must be doing some fundraiser or gala. But you shouldn’t have these donations in here.” You spit out your drink, looking up at you’re normally smart husband.

         “Excuse me?” The silence as he stares at you hit you hard, “You think I’m doing a fundraiser? And you think all these stupid things are donations? Is that really what you think?!” Your annoyance peeking through clearly. First the news got, then the storm of gifts, and now even your husband seems to be getting on your nerves. “Katakuri I’m pregnant.” You shake your head, stating it out right was best in these types of situations, “So, might I suggest you sit down so we can talk abou-“

         “Your idea of a joke is awful Y/N,” He walks over to the neat stacks of gifts, all of which you were sending back when you got the chance, “I mean really? You think staging some baby items is enough to convince me? This prank is in bad taste.” His regal voice showed no sign of joking and it made you more frustrated than you already were.

         “This isn’t a joke,” You were getting another headache but the subtle glare he shot you made it clear he wasn’t going to listen, “You know what? You just got home, why don’t you rest? I’ll send these gifts back in the meantime.”

~~~

         The next day Katakuri came to his office looking a little more refreshed and prepared for the day. He sits down in the confines of the space and starts looking through the reports, “It seems you fell a little behind while I was away. Why?” His smooth tone showing you he was ignoring everything you said the day prior.

         You had expected something like this to happen so you put the paper with the test result in front of him. “You’re lovely administers made me go to the doctors after some sickness.” His eyes scanned the paper, reading every detail until you could tell he landed on the prognosis. “I’m about 2 months along.”

         Katakuri sucks in his breath, you can tell by the twist of his eyebrow that this isn’t going to be fun, deciding to sit on the couch while you wait for his response.

Honestly, you barely had time to process this all yourself, being pushed and pulled everywhere by workers. The only time you had time to think for yourself was late at night when people thought you’d be sleeping. The first night you had spent just staring into the darkness that was the room trying to figure out the situation. Truly, you could relate to what Katakuri was probably going through.

         You two never planned on being parents. You vehemently discussed avoiding parenthood the natural way, maybe adopting if you’re mother-in-law became pushy. The thing you wanted most right now was a glass of whiskey, but for clear reasons you couldn’t get one. Your body felt so tense since finding out, your muscles aching from the lack of relaxing.

You were hoping that your husband would be the one to make sense of it for you, but seeing how he’s reacted so far, he was in the same boat as you. It stung, your heart dropping slightly as you put on this front of neutrality. But it was the best you could do, if you didn’t maintain this semblance of control over yourself, you felt like you’d break down.

Finally, your husband spoke, although his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it caused you to go further into the downward spiral that was your mind, “Well then whose is it?” His voice was dipped in venom but maintained a single tone, “If you wanted a kid so bad, we could have adopted.”

You bit your tongue, staring at the floor in front of you. He waited a couple second for a response but you couldn’t bring any words to come out before he continued, “You didn’t have to go behind my back like this.” His even tone made every muscle in your body tense more than they already were.

A knock at the door caught both of your attentions, yet your body was still tightly wound as you got up, opening the door to let whoever it was in. Someone with a bunch of papers and a wide smile looked back at you and you ushered them in while brushing your way out of the suffocating room.

Offering small smiles to those you passed as you hurried away from the situation. It was only after you had gotten to a small reading room and locked the door behind you that you slid down onto the floor. Your room was too far away and this was unused enough that no one would come looking here. A hand pressed against your stomach while the other tangled itself in your hair, gripping tightly to feel anything other than the heavy emotions that have flowed through you for days now.

You haven’t let anyone know of your own feelings on this matter, other than wanting to keep it on the down low, everyone assuming it was so you could Katakuri yourself, and yet somehow that one single voiced wish hadn’t come true. The entire island singing praise and you were the center of their attention.

You began panting, your throat swelling up making it hard to grasp at air, feeling your body start to shake. Even Katakuri wasn’t willing to listen. This has to be a lot for him, but I thought he loved me. Your body curling in on itself, the hand in your hair running down to grip at the back of your neck while your nails dug into your stomach. He even suggested I had cheated on him, found another man. The thought itself made you sick to your stomach, your heart beat drowning out any noise around you, and eyes squeezing shut as the world got darker around you. Am I just an object to everyone? You tried, and failed at opening your mouth, attempting to get any air to fill your compressed lungs. The beating of your heart the only reminder of that you were in fact alive.

~~~        

         Katakuri was walking down the hallways. Every time he passed someone who worked with you, he’d ask the same questions. All of them similar stories that made his heart twist with worry, and yet when he went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. It had been hours since you disappeared from his office without a second glance, the thought of how you left was now hurting him, now that he’s had time to calm down and truly think about everything.

         Since no one could find you, he was the person that people were bringing presents too, all of which he ushered to be sent wherever you had put them, some people asking if he had seen you so they could ask more questions. He hadn’t even been back a full day and yet he was overwhelmed with so much. Stalking back to your bedroom, assuming that could be his one quiet place, maybe even find you again to try and have a conversation about everything.

         His heart jumped into his throat thinking about it, you had been trying to talk to him this entire time and each attempt was met with malice. You were so patient, letting him voice his hate and distrust. Watching you sit on the couch silently, neither confirming nor denying allegations said to you, though your knuckles turned white in your lap. But what else could he think? With every safeguard the two of you had put into place, how else could you had ended up with a child growing inside of you? Walking into your shared room he looked around, the pile of gifts in the corner seemingly doubled in size from previously in the day.         

Yet still, there wasn’t a sign of you anywhere. Katakuri paced a bit, looking for any sign that you had been here after leaving him earlier. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place or used compared to this morning. The realization that no one has seen you for most of the day hitting him with a cold sweat as he calls for security

[tunafruitt]

--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞

SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3

[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]

Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO

-> [ DOTTORE ]

“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”

The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.

Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.

No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)

When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3

In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.

You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.

You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???

And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.

“I can hear you, Y/N.”

“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”

“Good morning.”

“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”

“Are you asking because I have a choice?”

Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—

“Doctor, the segments have finished—“

“Oh.”

-> [ XIAO ]

“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”

So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)

Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)

Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)

The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..

…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

“Xiao! I found you.”

As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.

“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”

“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”

You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”

“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”

“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”

“… Y-Y/N..”

“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”

FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling

[boowritess]

notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt

reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.

"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."

"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"

"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."

you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.

till you notice and shut that shet down.

"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."

"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."

"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."

you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.

"you wanna what you fucking freak?"

"excuse me-?"

"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."

"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."

and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?

"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."

"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"

"NO!" *141*

it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.

but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.

it turns out that you definitely have some perks.

you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.

in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.

"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."

*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*

"Nothing."

*recruit tries again.*

"Nothing."

it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.

what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.

that gets shut down real quick.

you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.

but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.

before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.

"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."

"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*

"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"

perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.

it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.

ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.

a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.

[spif-lol]

People can hate on Chibnall's era all they want and while it's not without it's problems I will always defend it if ONLY for it's interpretation of gender in the change from 12 to 13.

I remember being so excited for Jodie, but also so scared as to how they were going to handle her characterization as the Doctor. While Moffat did okay with Missy in the end, her original introduction was dripping with stereotypes and changes in personality which in universe boiled down to she's a girl now lol. Because of this I feared the introduction of a hyperfeminine Doctor, reinforcing sexist stereotypes that men and women are fundamentally different in some ineffable way. I feared jokes about boobs and hair, I feared a weak Doctor who had to be saved by male companions, I worried there would be a lack of personality entirely, with Chibnall trying to play it safe and make her just a blank slate. Or that she would be a rehash of an old Doctor but GIRLY with nothing really distinct to her personality beyond that.

I did not at all expect what we got. Even if the writing is in general lower standards than us fans had come to expect, Chibnall's handling of the Doctor's sudden gender change is phenomenal and I will explain why.

Top 13th Doctor gender moments:

It is so obvious that from the Doctor's point of view, she hasn't really changed. She still perceives herself the same way and finds it hard to adjust to a view of herself as a woman and often uses masculine words to describe herself out of habit. She doesn't dislike being a woman! She's just forgetful! Her regeneration is not special because of the gender change, that's just a quirk alongside the other changes every Doctor goes through when they regenerate

The way she still dresses in a distinctly Doctorish way, and leans towards flamboyant but practical masculine outfits like her suit in Spyfall in contrast to Yaz's more feminine presentation in the same situations. (Yaz isn't even that feminine either. But her dresses and blouses compared to the Doctor really stand out.)

I love how the Doctor's gender doesn't change anything about her, only how other's view her. And mostly people still treat her with respect and as an authority figure. I feel like chibnall struck a good balance between not acknowledging the gender change at all vs hitting us over the head with it. There are episodes where her being a woman is detrimental and she expresses annoyance, there are others where it causes confusion, and there's some where it opens her up to new experiences like the wedding party with Yaz's nan! But ultimately it doesn't make a difference in the Doctor's day to day

The introduction of the Fugitive Doctor as a previous regeneration but also as a female doctor with a distinct personality from thirteen! We got a multi doctor story with two badass female doctors years before it should have been possible! I hate the timeless child thing but the fugitive doctor is my beloved. Props to Chibnall for seeing the hate and people going oooh but the doctor has always been a man and responding by going nope she's been a woman before and a black woman too fuck you. actually iconic. #Season6B btw. if you even care

Idk i just think Jodie really captured the Doctor really well, while still having a unique twist on it and her portrayal really reads as a genderfluid alien in a feminine body. Like oh cool this is new but ultimately it dont matter she still the doctor

[wizzard890]

So there’s a trend that I absolutely hate in online discussions of (non-satirical) genre, particularly genre that’s influenced by the gothic. This trend makes my eyes roll back in my head until I can see through my own skull. It makes me want to bite a car in half. It makes me want to step into the jellyfish tank at the New York Aquarium and beg for the sweet sweet annihilation of a thousand stings. 

I call this trend: Oh Just Be Sensible, and it goes like this:

“Why do vampires always end up covered in blood when they feed, I don’t spill soup all down the front of my shirt when I eat dinner. Real toddler energy.”

“Why do people always cut their hands to swear oaths, everyone knows it would hurt way less on the [insert body part with fewer nerve endings]”

“Vampires shouldn’t be feeding from people’s wrists, it damages the tendons, if doctors don’t take your blood from your wrist, vampires shouldn’t either! No one will be able to flex their fingers the next day.”

(This comes up a lot with vampires, I mention, as I stride purposefully into the glistening mass of jellyfish.)

There are direct answers for some of these when it comes to the practical visual language of a particular medium (for example, you cut your hand on stage / on set because you can hold a blood pack in there, and even if you don’t have an effect, the gesture and its purpose can be discerned from the nosebleeds) but what really gets me is how thematically boneheaded this sort of observation is. 

Like, let’s go down the list here. 

Why do vampires end up covered in their victims’ blood? Well Scoob, do you think it could maybe have something to do with their bestial, inhuman nature? Or with the erotic and sensual abandon with which they can approach violence, now that they’re untethered from human morals? 

Why do people cut their hands to swear oaths? Aside from what I mentioned above, do you think maybe it’s because it adds a layer of gravity to see two people swearing an oath to one another with blood dripping from their clasped hands? Do you think it’s maybe to evoke a unity of body, something greater and more primal than a unity of word? Or maybe to remind us of the dire consequences of breaking a blood oath?

Why are authors having vampires feed from people’s wrists if it damages their tendons? Damn, maybe that’s because it’s where the pulse is. You know, the pulse? The heartblood, the thing that races when you’re scared or turned on or both? The thing that stutters when you’re close to death and could, should the author choose, ring in the vampire’s ears like a chime or a great pounding thunderclap. Maybe in a story about undead beings who drink blood, we can sacrifice a bit of sensible reality in order to enforce the emotion and thematic heft of a scene? 

Images like these communicate what is happening between two characters, not just the events that are transpiring! No one making stories forgot to consider ~sensible~ little observations, because it would be absolutely inane to consider an observation with the creative value of a wet paper towel. This stuff is part of our visual language for a reason! Themes also need to be communicated! 

God, like, okay, I’m exhausted and the aquarium staff keeps yelling at me when they find me here, but let me just wrap up by saying that relationships, character and meaning are expressed in so many ways beyond dialogue or internal monologue, and those expressions are so rarely sensible. 

(Also all this shit looks cool as hell, do you really want your protagonists swearing to die for one another by dabbing their slightly bleeding elbows together, grow up.)

[cipher-fresh]

💬 suffering-academy-student Follow

does anyone else wish u could regenerate but not change and not use up a regeneration. just like do a hard reboot

#i'm gonna call myself The Sufferer

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💫 constellationon-kasterborous Follow

what is it even like to not be a time lord do you like get impaled by rebar at 45 years old and just die. couldn't be me

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🚀 silvertraveller Follow

_____👶 timelordtoddler Follow

_____playing with a roentgen radioactive brick in the nursery rn

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🔉 gallifreyballifreyshmallifrey Follow

i love this website because its the only place you can say you have interfered with the natural flow of time and you won't get investigated by the CIA

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😉 winkles-wonderland Follow

who up lording they time

#no I don’t need to add any extra tags thanks I trust my audience will find it

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👦 theresponsibilityavoider Follow

I was skipping school hanging out in a clearing and some guy exited a portal from a CONFESSION DIAL 😭 and he was like “Go to the city. Find someone important. Tell them I’m back. Tell them, they know what they did. And I’m on my way. And if they ask you who I am, tell them ‘I came the long way round’” 😭😭😭 what the hell

---

💬 oneofthegreathouse Follow

if you have a fetish for people being born through bodily reproductive systems KEEP IT TO YOURSELF!!!! nobody needs to see that on their dash

__♻️ callmeweaver Follow

__Ok Puriteen you need to get on my level. sexualize looms OR ELSE!!!!!

---

💫 thecurator Follow

the high council of gallifrey: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “the timeless child” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

Me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.

5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw some pre-Hartnell doctors

My buddy the Master pacing: the Time Lords are lying to us

---

🏠 somegrandolgallifrey Follow

I heard some kid crying himself to sleep in a cabin. COULD not be me

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♾️ thatacademygraduate Follow

Went to a museum today! I saw a lot of really cool stuff but something I couldn’t stop thinking about was this horrifically busted up Type 40 TARDIS that literally looked like it was held together with duct tape, chewed gum and prayers 😵‍💫😵‍💫 girl kill that thing I’m so sorry….

#i think it was even still alive. please put it out of its misery for the love of rassilon

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🥽 howsitgoinghowitgoes Follow

Bruh my best friend and I tried to play a prank on my brother but it went wrong and he hit his head so badly he REGENERATED i need to go into hiding

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😐 the-hybrid Follow

Who am I

#please for the love of god help me

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🔹 thetasigma Follow

Koschei and I skipped school today and went stargazing. We agreed to visit every single one together when we leave this stupid planet. I love them so much. We're going to be together forever.

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💭 siblingofkarn Follow

Why do I keep having nightmares about Gallifrey being destroyed in like 5 different ways, that could literally never happen

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🤖 pompousandstuffy Follow

I literally hate children soooo much like today some ninety year old tried to speak to me. KILL YOURSELF THIRTEEN TIMES ‼️

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👽 cheapandnastytraveltime Follow

For a Time Lord I have such a bad sense of time. if chamelon arches were real i would make myself literally any other species

---

😍 starstartwinkletwinkle Follow

I have to stare into the untempered schism tomorrow. Any advice?

[seph-ic]

My favorite thing ever?

Nico has a service dog 

Because after Mr. D diagnoses him with PTSD he feels kind of hopeless and overwhelmed (especially after her hears that it can’t be easily fixed with magic or anything) 

So Mr D. Suggests that he get a service animal. 

Nico argues that animals hate him because he ‘smells like death’. Mr. D Points out that Mrs O’Leary doesn’t hate him. 

They both go talk to Hades who jumps at the excuse to win back his son by buying him more stuff. 

The dog ends up being a hellhound mix (don’t ask how.) 

The mix is mostly so she is a bit smaller for convenience (so she can fit in places.)

I'd assume she looks something like a Burmese mountain dog mix.

Her names Penelope (Penny) and Nico loves her. 

Nico and Her spend a couple of months doing service dog training with Artemis and the hunters (dogs are one of her patron animals.)

the time he spends with them also gives him a bit of closure and helps him process what happened to his sister.

soon enough she's graduated their honorary service dog school and is fully trained.

She goes with Nico everywhere. Since she is half hellhound she can assist with shadow travel and make it easier for Nico. (To Wills relief) 

She helps Nico with panic attacks and nightmares. 

She grabs things for him (KitKats, sword, water, pillows.) 

she can even open the fridge in the big house.

If Nico is having a really bad episode or a flashback he can’t come out of or if he’s in any physical danger, she knows to go get Will Chiron or MR D. In a heartbeat. 

Again a shadow traveling dog being useful.

Will makes extra sure that everyone at camp is aware of how service animals work. 

He teaches all the campers about what Penny's job is and why they’re not allowed to distract her.

On occasion when she isn't working she'll play fetch or get pets from some of the kids. 

All Nicos freind's and family love her.

Like everyone wants to be a part of this dogs life, Nico has literally never been more popular.

Hazel buys her a sweater for the holidays.

Rachel helps Nico also dye part of her tail at one point (to keep her identifiable) and they give it a cool design.

Annabeth asks if she can make her a cool dog house.

Piper insists that they take her to the groomer and buys her little bandannas.

Percy helps Nico teach her how to swim.

She will also grabs medical supplies for Will sometimes.

Grover also knows how to talk to her and regularly lets her know how Nico is doing (not that she doesn't already know.) 

Nico finds it easier to eat with Penelope.

It kind of forces him to eat on a schedule, since Penny has to be fed three times a day and the two of them can eat at the same time.

Nico also gives her little scraps off his plate sometimes which makes them both happy.

She gets absolutely spoiled. 

At one point Nico gets worried that she might get hurt fighting a monster. Hades assured him she won’t but Leo makes her some extra cool dog armor just in case

She also has a little bag attached to her vest for carrying supplies on quests and long journeys. (list of things these bags might contain: Ambrosia, Dog treats, Water/kitkats, extra weapons, drachmas.)

Nico connects so well with this fucking dog.

Like he always struggled with people and he never really even considered being an animal person.

But he absolutely adores Penny.

He talks to her about things that worry him and just finds her presence so unbelievably comforting.

Will solace (who I think personally would become a vet sooner than a doctor) Has this dog on the best fucking diet you could imagine

you have never seen a more medically healthy dog.

And she ADORES Will

Partially because of how calmer Nico is with him, and partially because he keeps a treat jar in the infirmary now.

The best part! she cannot die (from old age at least) Immortal service dog!

Having a huge fluffy head is great for pressure therapy.

Nico (neurodivergent) likes the texture of her fur and stims by petting her or playing with her ears.

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

i just rewatched ‘the woman who fell to earth’ a couple of days ago for the first time since it aired back in 2018 and the more i think about it, the more i like it.

thirteen is the only doctor for whom i feel a tangible, rose-tinted nostalgia. she wasn’t my first doctor, but she was the first doctor i watched live, the first doctor that i spent an actual extended period of time with over the episode rollout. her intro episode has middling parts (as can be expected with most episodes of Who) but there’s also so much good that i really want to highlight.

first of all, there are some really great character dynamics set up here. much more interesting than i remember, tbh. ryan is a guy who loves mechanics but is stuck in a warehouse job he hates, a guy who obviously wants to connect to people, a guy who by the end of the episode has lost both his mother and grandmother in the space of a couple of years and the step-grandfather he didn’t really want is all he has left (minus his absent father). that’s interesting.

yaz has a keen sense of justice and this raw, intense yearning to help people, to do something worthwhile, something more - the way she has chosen to express that is through law enforcement, but it’s not quite giving her the satisfaction she wants. that’s interesting.

graham’s experience with cancer means that he constantly feels like he’s living on borrowed time. meeting grace gave him purpose, gave him family, gave him the will to fight when he fought it was all but over, but now grace is gone. he and ryan aren’t related, but they’re family, and now they’ve got to figure out how to care for each other without the very lynchpin that brought them together. once again with feeling: interesting!

“i’m just a traveller. sometimes i see things that need fixing. i do what i can.” i like that they circle back to the ‘just some guy’ portrayal of the doctor here, both because it’s the one i’m partial to and because it feeds particularly well into the whole ‘the doctor is an unreliable narrator’ aspect, especially in the wake of the increased deification in the moffat era. it's a nice set up, even if it gets completely overhauled circa series 12/13. in fact, having thirteen keep this as a persistent attitude throughout the Timeless Child of it all could have been really effective re: her reticence with her companions and refusal to address or deal with her past.

the scene where thirteen builds her sonic screwdriver might be one of my favourite sequences in nuwho. i love that it’s a hybrid of alien tech and sheffield steel. i also love that they highlight the ‘mad inventor’ side of the doctor here (her teleportation circuit is based around a microwave?) and wish that they had carried it forward more. it would have been the perfect basis for her to bond with ryan over. jodie also pulls off the humour of the episode well, considering the significant shift from moffat dialogue.

i enjoy thirteen's outfit: the vibrancy of it as mirroring her childish excitability, but also as another part of the mask - if i dress all colourful then maybe i can ignore/outrun/masquerade my great capacity for darkness! etc etc. the shopping trip with yaz and ryan is a bit shoe-horned in at the end but it's cute that she finds it in a charity shop. (back in 2018 i bought a t-shirt with a couple of stripes across the chest solely because it remotely resembled the one she wore lol. nerd from a young age, me.) jodie also looks soo hot in capaldi's outfit though so a spin on the traditional suit would also have been appreciated.

some miscellaneous points: i like that she tells Karl off (“you had no right to do that”) right after saving him. i like that she gets it wrong at first and makes it clear that she’s working on the fly. she’s following her instinct, and that instinct is to help people. doctor who has been beautiful before but the cinematography takes such a huge step this era. “it’s been a long time since i bought women’s clothes” i am choosing to believe this is about river thank you and good night.

[mcflymemes]

BARBIE (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!

i've never seen this kind of malfunction.

am i being too technical?

if you ask me, you're responsible for this, too.

to be honest, when i found out the patriarchy wasn't just about horses, i lost interest.

i just gave you a choice so you could feel like you're in control!

how will i get back?

this happened once before.

i just don't want to leave!

you'll be such a hero to them!

i feel appreciated but not ogled.

i hate it when people think. i'm so bored.

the faster i figure this out, the faster we get home.

i'm not pretty anymore!

humans have only one ending. ideas live forever.

you're so beautiful.

how come you're so amazing!

i worked very hard, so... i deserve it!

you're the voice of a generation.

this makes me emotional, and i'm expressing it.

i got us both ice creams!

i think you have that the wrong way around.

how much of that did you see?

let's get you up on your feet.

you should heal up in no time.

this night is just perfect!

please call my mother.

i thought i might stay over tonight.

does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her?

i'm great at doing stuff.

it is literally impossible to be a woman.

we always have to be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

never forget that the system is rigged.

find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.

it's too hard!

i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself in knots so that people will like us.

i was arrested for tax evasion.

i smell like basement.

what are you doing here?

did you bring your rollerblades?

i literally go nowhere without them!

do you guys ever think about dying?

i'll play the guitar at you.

yeah, i'm... confused about that.

it's like i've been in a dream where i was really invested in the zack snyder cut of "justice league."

can i talk to a doctor?

i need a clicky pen.

somebody get security.

i've never seen the godfather.

every night is a boy's night.

i just don't know who i am without you.

i only exist within the warmth of your gaze.

i'm just a little blond guy who can't do flips.

you guys aren't doing patriarchy very well.

men hate women and women hate women. it's the one thing we can all agree on.

you don't have your license.

you can be brainwashed, or you can be ugly. there's nothing in between.

she's not dying, she's just having an existential crisis.

i'm sensing some kind of ententre here... and it appears to be double.

who am i to burst their bubble?

you use your imagination!

you can ask me any question you want.

[fellthemarvelous]

Aziraphale hate makes my brain hurt.

Like let's be really fuckin' for real here.

Neurodivergent fans have repeatedly said that Aziraphale is autistic coded. I agree with them. I have never been diagnosed but I wonder about myself. If only I could get a doctor to take me seriously enough to test me for it, but alas, I'm a 43-year-old woman living in the good ole US of A.

Those with religious trauma have repeatedly said that they identify with him as well. I'm one of those people. I endured 12 years of Catholic schools and just as much time being taught a very black and white view of things that I've had to spend more than 20 goddamn fucking years working to unlearn.

I find that my views as a survivor of religious abuse are often dismissed because people keep wanting to say "Aziraphale doesn't have religious trauma." Yes, thank you, I get that, but unless you've been indoctrinated and brainwashed into a very black and white view of the world, you probably don't understand the kind of feelings Aziraphale's onscreen experiences evoke in so many of us. Heaven might not be real, but the feelings of "God is always watching" still stick with me today even though I no longer believe in God. I have entirely denounced Christianity because of my own personal experience, and I refuse to allow people to try and guilt me or shame me for trauma that I didn't ask for. I wasn't given a choice.

As a child I was told that God was real and always watching everything you do (just like Santa Claus) and can hear everything you say and knows everything you are thinking. Do you know what I learned to do in order to cope with this overwhelming and anxiety-inducing information as a small child? I learned to censor my thoughts. I never spoke up, and I have always felt like I was putting on a show for people because I had to be who I was told to be or I would get into trouble.

Aziraphale said "poverty is a virtue" during The Resurrectionists, and as someone who grew up in the Bible belt and went to private schools, I was taught this very same shit by the Catholic church. He learned in that very same episode that "poverty is a virtue" is actually a tool of oppression to keep the poor poor and the wealthy wealthy. I know we all watched the episode. He went into that episode believing what he said, but by the end of it he knew it was actually utter bullshit. Aziraphale is not ignorant. He's highly intelligent, and he has never been too proud to admit when he has been wrong. He accepts that the information he learned before is not matching up with reality.

And it's so obvious some of you have zero experience with that type of indoctrination because of how very little empathy you show Aziraphale for his "mistake" of "choosing Heaven over Crowley" and "making Crowley sad" so clearly Aziraphale must somehow be "abusive" and "manipulative" and "selfish" and "self-centered" because he didn't choose to run away with Crowley at the end of season two.

First of all.

FIRST OF ALL...

Aziraphale has a mind of his own.

Aziraphale is always going to try and do what is right.

Aziraphale is an angel. He's a being of love. And the reason he's so "bad" at being an angel is because he actually wants to protect humanity. He has always loved humanity. He repeatedly has to contend with what is "right" versus what is "good" and "wrong" versus "evil". Yeah, he has flaws. He's an angel, not a goddamn fucking saint. He has lived on Earth for more than 6,000 years. He has seen everything. He loves doing human things.

He's obsessed with magic. It makes him so happy. He's not very good at it...well not when he's trying to put on a show for Crowley.

He chose to learn French the hard way, so even though he knows every single language in the world, he chooses to be mediocre at French. Something that annoys and amuses Crowley at the same time.

He loves to dance even though angels aren't supposed to dance, and dancing with Crowley was what he wanted the most.

He owns a bookshop and refuses to sell any of his books because they are books he's had for as long as there have been books. He will chase customers away from his collection, and Crowley understands how much they mean to Aziraphale because he refuses to sell any when Aziraphale leaves him in charge.

He and Crowley have been speaking to each other in coded language for more than 6,000 years. They have to be very careful about what they say because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Heaven has photographs of Crowley and Aziraphale sitting or standing together throughout history. Hell had one photo of Crowley and Aziraphale actually working together and it was Aziraphale's quick thinking and how good he actually is at sleight of hand tricks that managed to get that photo out of Furfur's hands so he wouldn't be able to turn Crowley over to the Dark Council.

Aziraphale saved Crowley from being taken to Hell again. He wasn't able to save Crowley from Hell in Edinburgh, but he sure as heck managed to save Crowley from Hell during WWII. He took Crowley to his bookshop and showed Crowley that he stole the picture from Furfur. He saved Crowley.

You get that, right?

Aziraphale SAVED Crowley.

People always talk about how it's "always Crowley saving Aziraphale" because apparently heroic acts are only heroic when they are grand gestures. The sleight of hand wasn't heroic at all, am I right? It wasn't sparkly and showy. It wasn't interesting enough, therefore not heroic. At least that's all I'm hearing when people start with their "blah Aziraphale deserves to suffer because I have no imagination or ability to understand the media in front of me blah", and all these reasons he deserves to suffer is because Crowley almost got hurt.

Aziraphale did that without flinching and I watch that part closely every single time. He's not scared for himself. He's scared for Crowley, and he managed to hold onto that photograph. He did not fail Crowley. He protected Crowley.

And so here's another thing that we like to point out. The way that Aziraphale, an angel who is effeminate and male presenting, an angel who is soft and full of love, an angel who is kind and forgiving because he has empathy and compassion, is somehow painted as abusive and manipulative. He's not violent, but he could easily fuck up your world. He doesn't use his powers. We have no idea how powerful he is because we only ever see him do small acts. He's used to hiding. It's the only way he has ever been able to protect Crowley.

And I'm not saying that Aziraphale has actually saved Crowley before means that Crowley hasn't also saved Aziraphale. Like, you get that those are not mutually exclusive and their relationship is not transactional, right? They have spent their entire existence protecting each other but never actually getting to be together because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Yeah, Crowley fell. We all know this. We are aware of this. He was the serpent of Eden. He gave humanity the knowledge of free will.

But what we don't talk about is what Aziraphale gave humanity.

What did he give them?

We all know what it is!

Let's say it together!

He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword because it was dangerous outside the garden and Eve was pregnant and she was already having a really bad day. He showed them compassion and gave them his extremely powerful angelic weapon so they would stand a chance on the outside of the garden. He gave humanity the gift of compassion. It's just unfortunate that his flaming sword became a weapon of War.

And then what did he do after that?

Ooooh, yeah, that's right.

God asked him about it and he straight up lied to her and pretended he had no idea where he'd managed to misplace it. She didn't say anything after that. He told Crowley the truth though. He told Crowley the truth even though Crowley fell.

Yeah, we know Aziraphale has done some really fucking questionable things. He and Crowley both suck at passing for human in front of observant people like Nina. They're not human. They are still learning, but they managed to experience human history together despite being on opposite sides and their experiences with humanity are what has shaped them into the compassionate and loving duo they are now. One of them is not better from the other.

This, my friends, is what we call meeting in the middle. It's why shades of gray is so important. Aziraphale constantly breaks the rules. Crowley refused to play by Heaven's rules. It's the reason he fell. He doesn't play by Hell's rules either. These two dorks figured out how to cancel each others' miracles out throughout human history in order to have more time learning about humanity and each other because working all day every day sucks when there are so many new things to learn and experience with the people you love.

We know Crowley and Aziraphale both love each other. Neither of them are good at hiding the hearts stars in their eyes.

But here's what's really fucking annoying about the Aziraphale hate.

Aziraphale was already crying when Crowley grabbed him and kissed him. Aziraphale is trying so very hard to do the right thing. He loves Crowley. He does. But he also has a duty to humanity, and he has taken that job very seriously since the creation of Adam and Eve. He sent them out into the world with a flaming sword so they would have a chance at surviving beyond the walls of the garden.

And he knows that Something Terrible is going to happen and he spent all of second season trying to figure out what that Something Terrible was while trying to have some sort of more honest and open relationship with Crowley, but again, they aren't human, they are a demon and an angel approaching life from opposite sides who met in the middle and fell in love with humanity together.

He wants more than anything to tell Crowley how he feels about him, but he wants to do something grand for Crowley because Crowley has always been grand and dramatic and sexy and a little bit scary.

Crowley is impulsive and has a temper and sometimes says the wrong thing but he has always trusted Aziraphale because Aziraphale gave him a chance even after he fell. Aziraphale chose to shelter him instead of smiting him while they stood on top of that wall. He knew he was supposed to kill Crowley, but oops, he gave his sword away to the humans so he didn't really have anything to kill him with and Crowley is the one who created nebulas. The Pillars of Creation is Crowley's work and Aziraphale was there to witness that, but he watched Crowley more than he watched the nebula. He witnessed the pure joy on Crowley's face when he said "let there be light" as a nebula full of colors exploded before their eyes. He was fascinated by Crowley.

But Aziraphale is going back to Heaven even though he has made it perfectly clear he absolutely has no desire to go back to Heaven. He told the Metatron this during their conversation. He spoke these words out loud. They exist.

But then The Metatron said this....

The Metatron. The very same angel who told Aziraphale in season one "to speak to me is to speak to the Almighty." He's the boss. He's the big guy. He's used to existing as a giant head and he had to give himself a body so he wouldn't stand out on Earth. And he knows that Aziraphale and Crowley have been working together since the beginning. He knows they worked together to prevent Armageddon in season one, and now he's made it clear he knows they were working together long before that. And let's face it, Aziraphale really wants to know what this Something Terrible is that Gabriel is running from so he can try to prevent it from happening.

It makes sense that he would want to take Crowley to Heaven with him because he would be able to keep Hell from getting their hands on him again. Aziraphale hates it in Heaven. He doesn't want to go, but Something Terrible is happening and Metatron isn't taking no for an answer, and maybe Heaven won't be so bad if Crowley is there with him. At least they can fix Heaven together.

But Crowley can't go back. We all get that. We don't blame him for saying no. It doesn't change anything.

Something Terrible is about to happen and Aziraphale has to figure out what it is. He wants to change Heaven.

He is fully aware that Heaven sucks. He still has faith in God. His faith isn't in Heaven. He deserted his platoon in season one and threw himself back to Earth so he could figure out how to make sure the war between Heaven and Hell doesn't happen.

But see, here's the thing. Heaven is at the top. Heaven has all the resources. Heaven is responsible for the creation of Hell. Heaven is empty and Hell is overpopulated. Aziraphale knows this. Crowley knows this. It's obvious every time we see either place. Both sides are desperate to go to war and will not hesitate to destroy humanity in the process. This is the opposite of what Crowley and Aziraphale want for humanity. If anyone can change Heaven, it's Aziraphale. He's the only one up there who gives a shit about humanity as far as we know. No one else is going to speak on humanity's behalf.

Some of us are so busy getting mad at Aziraphale for going back to Heaven and giving Crowley a Big Sad. Newsflash: Crowley is not the main character of Good Omens. Aziraphale and Crowley are equals, yet we wanna hold Aziraphale to higher standards because he's an angel, and when he makes mistakes it's proof that he's the bad guy.

Holy mother of all things that trigger my religious trauma, let me tell you. I spent my entire life hating myself every time I made mistakes. I've had to teach myself that just because I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I'm bad. It means I'm human. I still struggle with it. I probably always will. So when you say that Aziraphale deserves to be punished for breaking Crowley's heart, you not only ignore that Aziraphale's heart is also broken, you're saying he deserves to be punished for doing what he thinks is right.

Wanting to change Heaven for the better is not a bad thing.

And some of y'all wanna see him suffer for going back into the lion's den that is Heaven, knowing that he is already an outcast, that they have already tried to kill him once, knowing that he is a deserter, that he has been lying to Heaven about a lot of things, and you still think he's blinded by Heaven? You think he's just so naive and that's the only reason he's going back. He doesn't show his emotions the same way Crowley does so it means he doesn't care as much. He's expected to consider Crowley's feelings over his own when making choices. Like holy shit if all of that hasn't defined my experience as a woman with religious trauma in this fucking society. He's expected to be subservient to Crowley and if he doesn't do what Crowley wants then he's being unreasonable and illogical.

What the actual fuck, y'all.

Like seriously.

I'm sick of this bullshit. I had to step away from this fandom because of how toxic some people in this fandom are. It's not chasing me away, but the fact that I chose to hang out in a a more toxic fandom that is already notorious for being really toxic over a fandom that claims to be more open-minded and welcoming should probably tell you something.

It gave me a lot of perspective, and yeah, I'm still gonna speak up against the bullshit Aziraphale hate.

People are entitled to their opinions, but the Aziraphale hate isn't an opinion. It's just ableist, misogynistic garbage. At this point we all know y'all say these extreme things about Aziraphale because y'all get more joy out of the harm and alienation it is causing others.

Keep being loudly wrong, but if you think I'm not entitled to challenge shitty-ass, harmful, hateful discourse, bite my ass.

I'm not the one who lost the plot in this fandom.

[judasgot-it]

Soulmate AU

"I can't believe you said that. You know that's going to be on my chest for the rest of my life now, right?"

Scenario: You and your soulmate meet. It's hard convincing yourselves that it's a good thing.

I'm timeskipping a bit, think of this as a sort of slowburn lol.

8,700 k words (jesus crhist)

Every person had spots on their body that marked the things that showed what their soulmate did that day.

Typically, they appeared at the age of five. Usually, they would be words and sentences, or pictures, sometimes depicting ideas. It was representative of what their soulmate was like - sometimes they were in different languages, or had patterns that only their soulmate could discern.

There was always one mark that would appear, and stay on the body for what was usually for the rest of someone's life. Sometimes small, sometimes big.

Some people were born with theirs. Others had theirs appear at the end of their life. They were rather random, it seemed.

Yours was strange. It wasn't a picture, and it wasn't a poem. It wasn't a sentence, and it wasn't anything compared to your family or classmates. When you were twelve, you had gained a large pattern on your back - something that if you reached around, you could feel mostly with your fingers.

If you squinted, you could maybe see it, but it seemed invisible.

Your mother had told you that it was almost like a scar, but it wasn't ugly. There was a pattern, but no one seemed to really know what it meant.

It was hard to really know what it was from looking at it in the mirror. To you, it looked like just a splattering of lighter and darker skin, now slightly raised in some areas. It was only visible in the light, and looked like you had splashed bleach on your skin.

All you knew was that it hadn't gone away in weeks. The doctor had said that it was most likely one of those marks that lived forever, and was possibly a sign that your soulmate was blind. Either that or some sort of fucked up artist.

It had left you angry for months. You didn't know why, but it upset you - maybe because you had expected a poem that would tell you how much you were adored, like your friend had. Or cute portrait, of some beautiful vacation spot.

You still wanted to dream. But instead, you got something had you scratching your back like a madman, trying to understand something that you couldn't. It left you impatient, trying to understand a puzzle that apparently, only a blind man or an asshole could solve.

Maybe both.

When you met your soulmate, you were going to slap the shit out of him.

-

At sixteen, you had debated on whether or not your soulmate was worth 'waiting for' or 'finding'. There was a big debate going on for decades anyway - was it worth falling in love with your soulmate?

Part of you wanted to try falling in love with someone else. Maybe it was because you had seen soulmates who hated each other - they had words permanently etched onto their bodies that said:

"I hate you" and "I hope that you die"

Seemed like proof enough that it was fake.

Your own soulmate seemed less like a real concept, and more like a cloud in the sky. There were never pictures of his day, or that many words to hear about. It was only feelings - there were cuts that had showed up along your skin, long lines that were in concerning places.

Once you had one show up along your chest, underneath your breast. You weren't sure if it would work, but you had written "Stay alive" and hoped it would show up along his skin. You wrote it in Sharpie and kept it there for days, just in case he needed the reminder.

He never seemed to have any words back. The only words you ever read on your skin were concerning. Once, words had shown up along your arm, written in a messy cursive, almost impossible to read:

"Go ahead and kill yourself. I don't need you anyway."

That started to convince you that your soulmate might have deserved the knife in the chest.

Despite this, you could never bring yourself to go past a second date. None of the guys who asked you out seemed to really 'click' in the way you really thought you would.

One of them was so bad, you had taken the Sharpie out and had added "I love you" close to where you remember adding the line.

If your soulmate really was blind, it was most likely a stupid thing to write - if it even showed up. But it made you feel better in the moment, so what was the harm?

-

When you were in your 20s, you had graduated university.

You didn't know what your soulmate was doing, but you had started to care less than you did when you were younger.

Before, it tore at you - there were a lot of dreams and ideas you had of what he was like, and what it would be like when you finally met the one person made for you.

Over time, you learned to accept that there was a chance you might not ever meet him. You knew people like that - those whose soulmates died, and those who never had them. Those who had met them late in life, and were still living good lives.

You had become content. In a way, your life had become better, knowing that you didn't need someone else there in order to live your own life.

There were friends you had. And you had an apartment. And now, you had a new job, one that was respectable and you had worked hard for. Life was looking up.

Part of you was convinced that your soulmate was either dead or still living a life that would lead to it. The marks that showed up were the same as when you were sixteen - they were lesser than before, but they were still scary when they did show up.

There were more words now as well. Something changed, as they were more positive.

"Stay behind me, I'll protect you."

That was one that had shown up today. Along your inner thigh, making you glad you wore shorts today.

Maybe he wasn't in a gang but was just a cop with a bad attitude. Unfortunately, your soulmate had never said his name, and you had no clues as to how to find him.

-

This job was great. But god, the military really couldn't keep a damn thing organized.

You might be the only person who knew where anything was at this point. Which left you carrying several boxes of confidential files to the office of Ouchi Fukuchi directly, because no one else knew where to find the paperwork that was needed.

He was also three months behind on all of it. Which was fine, it was only a matter of national security, after all. It wasn't an important thing, really. Who cared?

You weren't stressed about it at all.

"Do you need help?" A voice filtered through the elevator, and you almost cried with relief. The boxes were heavy, and based on the man's voice, he sounded like someone who actually could handle carrying them.

Unlike you at the moment, who was using every last bit of strength you had in order to keep them from spilling all over the carpet at the moment.

You worked at a desk. This was more lifting in a day than you did a year. Yes, of course you could use some help. Obviously.

"Yes. Can you push the number for Mr. Fukuchi's office? And also grab one of these boxes? If you aren't busy."

You were praying that he wasn't busy. Those few seconds as you waited felt like hell, but eventually you felt the man's hands touch your own, taking the boxes from your arms and relieving the agonizing weight from your spine.

Sighing, you leaned against the elevator door, feeling how it slowly lifted up to the highest story. Slowly, because despite appearances, the Hunting Dogs headquarters had disgustingly slow elevators despite the million-dollar planes they had parked in the vicinity.

The stairs might have been faster, honestly.

You could also have avoided the man's staring - the brunette was tall, and he glanced at your exposed skin as if you were naked. You turned to the doors, avoiding his gaze.

"Do you, know your soulmate?"

The man was blunt, his honey eyes staring directly at your wrist. He was holding the boxes as if they weighed nothing, and watching him made your back hurt more. What did they feed those military guys?

"No, I don't. Sorry, I know it's nasty. I feel bad for whoever Tecchou is, he doesn't seem to get along with him."

You tried to laugh it off, looking down at your wrist. Right there, you could see what your soulmate had said today, in the same messy cursive he always spoke in:

"Go to hell Tecchou, your food is always shit and I hope you die."

It had only shown up right when you had to go and deliver the files. Because of course it did - your soulmate really had to embarrass you like that in front of everyone.

You remembered when you were twelve you said you would smack the shit out of him. Maybe you would still do that, because right now it felt embarrassing to be stared at like that.

It wasn't your fault your soulmate had such a foul mouth.

Now you were going to meet the leader of the Hunting Dogs, and he was going to see what an embarrassment of a soulmate you had.

Thank god it wasn't on your forehead, at least.

The doors of the elevator opened, and you tried to keep your body straight and rigid, waiting for a greeting from Fukuchi himself. You watched the brunette walk in with the files, straight to the front of the desk as if it were habit.

You followed behind him, hoping you made a good impression.

"Ouchi Fukuchi! I am-"

Before you could finish your greeting, the man held a hand towards you.

"Tecchou, didn't I tell you to take a walk?" The older man was stern, and you stayed silent in hopes that he didn't turn his cold gaze towards you.

"...She looked like she was struggling." His voice was deep and monotone, and he looked almost bored from behind the stack of files he was hiding behind.

"So you decided to be an errand boy?"

"Yes."

There was a silence. You couldn't tell what was going on between the two men, but you were terrified. The look Fukuchi gave was terrifying, worse than was portrayed in the films you had seen before - he was scarier in person. His gaze was intense, as if he was trying to kill the man with his eyes.

"Sir, if I may add. They are very heavy, and I appreciated the help a lot."

You didn't know what came over you. Both men looked at you, and it had you putting your arms and head down, praying that the floor would eat you.

Fuck. You just needed to deliver the files and just go back to your office. You didn't even work for the Hunting Dogs, you worked for a completely different part of the government. This wasn't your business to get into.

"Sorry. Um...Those files, there is a file on top about their contents. They are to be completed and sent out ASAP. Requested by the prime minister. Apologies."

Your voice was firm, despite the sweat that was collecting on your palms. Without looking at anyone or anything, you nodded at the men and walked out, pressing the button for the ground floor several times.

This was terrifying.

-

The Hunting Dogs were hunting you. Ironic, but you now had one of them showing up at your office, wanting to 'talk' - what was there to even talk about?

You had only been there for maybe ten minutes at most, like, a week ago. If something happened in that facility, you had no part in it.

If you could, you would hide underneath your desk forever. But that most likely made them think you were guilty of whatever crime they suspected you of, and you did not want to seem like a criminal to them.

Their investigation tactics were more than infamous. You did not want to become another horror story.

Steeling yourself, you walked out, bracing for the inevitable interrogation that was about to follow. The man that was waiting for you was standing with a little girl - you vaguely remembered her as the vice-captain, although the man you couldn't really place his name.

His two-toned hair seemed familiar though. You might have seen it on a photograph before, when you were told about the group in a discussion about how lazy they were with paperwork. His closed eyes seemed strange, but tried to avoid them.

The man smiled at you, and it seemed more calculating than warm and friendly. The girl, someone you remembered to be known for her combat skills, didn't seem to be interested. She only blinked at you, bored at your office outfit.

You had to convince him that you were innocent. Of whatever it was that they had thought you were guilty of.

"So. Trying to get all pretty for me?"

The man was grinning, and you didn't know what to say. He had taken a step closer, and out tried to stay as still as possible, slowing your breathing.

If it was fight or flight, you chose freeze.

Keeping your face calm was hard, but you paused your breaths, trying your best to keep your body as cool as possible as the two didn't state why it was urgent that they speak to you. In the middle of your work day.

"Um. Is there a reason why you guys asked to see me?"

You were staring at the daisy-haired man's forehead, praying that he didn't notice that you were trying your hardest to not make eye contact with him.

"Did you deliver files to Fukuchi?"

The girl was bored, rocking her feet back and forth, slapping the man next to her with her ponytail.

"Um. Yes. I did."

"And did you meet a man named Tecchou Suehiro while you were there?"

"The brunette?"

"Yes. And tall, with three stupid tattoos under his eyes. Did you meet him?"

"I believe so, yes. He helped me carry the files to Mr. Fukuchi's office."

"What did your arm say that day?"

That was an odd question. That wouldn't have something to do with any sort of crime, would it? Or were you not thinking straight?

"Oh. Something about killing a man named Tecchou."

It felt like a pause button had been pressed at that moment.

Tecchou was an uncommon name. And Fukuchi had certainly called that man in the elevator by that name as well. How could you have missed that detail?

"...Why are you asking me about that?"

Tecchou had asked about the mark too, now that you had thought of it.

"Did my soulmate kill him?"

Either that, or Tecchou had killed him, and this was how you were going to find out that your soulmate was dead. He was dead and gone before you had ever gotten to meet him. Just one of those tragic cases of a love that never got to happen.

You steeled yourself for the news, taking in a deep breath.

"Jouno your soulmate is stupid."

The girl walked away, huffing and shaking her head. The man in front of you, Jouno, clapped your shoulder, breathing out a sigh.

"Tecchou is still alive. Unfortunatly."

The man's eyes hadn't opened to look at you, staying closed as he struggled to find the words. He was in your space, and you could taste how he struggled to find the words to say what he wanted to say.

Somehow, he was still smiling through the awkwardness, but you had started to realize-

He was blind. And your soulmate.

Your soulmate was always blind.

The strange spot on your back made more sense now. It wasn't some stupid art piece, but most certainly something he felt because he was blind.

"-I don't think I need to say anything. You know."

The man gave up on forming sentences, instead choosing to rub your shoulder and smile.

"Um. Yeah."

You spent nearly twenty years waiting to meet this man, and this is all you had to say? Wasn't there something more?

"Um. Shouldn't we do something?" His hand was still on you, and you didn't know if you should tell him to let go or not. This was the first time you had ever met, and frankly - you actually liked it a little bit. He was warm, and he didn't give you a weird feeling compared to some other people.

"Do what?"

"I don't know. We're soulmates. Shouldn't we like, have a moment?"

In the movies you had seen, there were soulmates who would meet and have a 'magical contact' moment. You couldn't look into his eyes and swoon, but surely he was having a magic moment right now? Wasn't he going to ask you on a date and try to live with you forever or something?

This should have been the start of...something.

"No. This is good enough. Honestly, I'd rather not see you again."

Or not.

His face didn't portray anything - he was still smiling, as if he was working at a front desk and not meeting his soulmate for the first time. You felt like you were looking into it, but surely he also wanted something more?

That smile couldn't be real.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's nothing with you, but it's probably best if we don't try to make this a thing."

He let go finally, and that shoulder felt cold as he stepped away. You didn't know what to say, watching as he slowly removed himself from the little bubble the two of you had.

There was magic, and there was no magic. It was a mirage, more like it.

"So. You just, wanted to meet me, I guess?"

"Just know that you're alive. And you are. Good for us."

Us. But there is no us, because there is no thing, apparently. Just a him, and now you had to suppose a you. A lonely, singular you.

"Sorry. Um. Yeah, okay. Then let's not talk. That's fine."

It wasn't. Or maybe it was. You didn't know what to think, because your soulmate, who you now knew was the Hunting Dog Jouno, had come and gone in what felt like a matter of seconds.

But you supposed that was the end of it. You met your soulmate, and you would never see him again.

So why were you about to cry?

-

Ever since that meeting, the universe had been playing tricks on you. Or whoever had deemed soulmates to be a thing.

Before, whatever Jouno had put onto your body was so abstract that you could barely understand it. Now it felt like he was playing tricks on you.

"If I die, I don't care."

It felt like he was playing a game. You had only met him once, but if he died, you would care.

You would care so much.

The petty part of you had taken to those high school days, grabbing your sharpie and writing little responses underneath those types of sentences.

"I care." and "I love you, stay safe." was something you had started to write over and over again on your body.

It likely didn't matter. He was blind. But if it ever showed up on his skin, you hoped someone on his team would see it.

Part of you wanted to write it on your forehead and neck, just to shame him. Maybe he didn't care, but you cared - he would have everyone know just how much his soulmate cares about him.

But you didn't want to wash that off. You also were sure that your concealer wasn't going to cover that up.

It would just make the both of you look stupid.

-

Your day was just going great.

Great. As in, you were stuck next to a shitty criminal, who was pulling at your nice dress and tearing the buttons along the back.

This was expensive.

God. What a dickhead.

And who was going to save you from this guy? He had some weird fucked up ability, and it was freaking you out.

You didn't really deal with that stuff.

This was a time when you chose to freeze again. You wanted to choose something else - to fight back and be brave, or to run, do something.

But you felt frozen. It was honestly hard to breathe, but that might have been from how your dress was pulling against your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Oh shit, it's the Hunting Dogs."

The guy next to you groaned, and you tried your hardest to disappear as you felt him tug and pull you around.

The gunshots were loud, and you were stuck choosing between covering your ears and pulling against your dress as the man tried to choke you with it.

You chose your ears, in the end. However many gunshots he fired, you didn't count, instead trying your best to become a ball. One that would be unmovable, immune to the hellfire that was happening.

Maybe if you became deadweight, he would drop you and run away. He had no reason for you, right?

You didn't know why he chose to use you as a distraction anyway. This was your day off, couldn't he have chosen any other person?

"Goddammit, I said get up!"

The man pulled at your hair, and you screamed. As much as you fought back, clawing at his arms, he started to drag you away from his little spot in the building, to the open area where you could see a whole crowd had gathered.

It was hard to see if any of the Hunting Dogs were actually there, as you could only focus on the pain you were in.

Weren't they going to do their jobs? What the fuck was taking so long.

This felt like it was taking forever. This guy was tugging you around, and talking about something that you couldn't even bring yourself to care about. It was something that a man who would try to blow up a building would say - they're spying on us, they're killing us, they made it all up. Whoever they are, and whoever the us is. It didn't matter, because now your day was ruined.

Maybe you were pathetic, still trying to fight back. The guy seemed ridiculously strong.

"Run."

The word was whispered to you, in a soft voice and with a gentle hand on your back. It might have only been a second - but the moment the grip loosened on your hair, you took the moment to run.

God knows where. But you ran. It might have been the fastest you had ever been in your life, if you were being honest with yourself.

You were just glad the nightmare was over.

-

Ever since that...event. You haven't had a good dream since.

It was hard too. You would wake up to the violent hair pulling, the smells, and there would be that voice at the end each time.

You would be crying, and each time the voice would say something different. In real life, all he had said was "Run" but in your dreams, he said rather sweet things.

They were things that frankly, you had wanted to hear. He had a gentle voice for a man, and it was hard to believe that it was the same voice as your soulmate.

You kept pretending that it wasn't him. As time went on, you were more hurt by the words he said, you started to pretend that the voice you heard was just a different man you had conjured up.

Something you made while you were delirious with fear. And now he was haunting your dreams, because you were a lonely and loveless woman, who couldn't stop crying in her kitchen because she was scared of something that had already happened.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid, and you just wanted to be over it. But for some reason, you were left sitting at the table again, forcing yourself to drink a glass of water and play through another round of solitaire.

The knocking on the door scared the shit out of you.

...

Another knock.

Fuck.

Gettting up, you stalked slowly to the door, hoping that the intruder to your miserable peace wouldn't hear your approach the door. You wanted to pretend you weren't there, even if it was obvious you were home.

Another knock.

Loud ones. Impatient ones.

"I know you're in there. Listen, I just need to talk to you real quick."

Peeping through the peephole, you saw him - Jouno, who was clad in a dandelion bedhead and grey sweatpants. His hoodie was a strange faded color, and you were sure it was old enough to be his father's.

Taking a moment, you breathed as you watched him. It was hard to believe he was standing there, actually at the front of your door.

At like what, two in the morning?

You opened the door a little bit, feeling the cold night air breeze by. It made you pull yourself closer together, as the shirt you wore barely covered you enough to protect you from the cold.

Thank god Jouno was blind at least. He would see a lot more than he bargained for, you imagined.

"...What do you want?" You wished you could have your voice sound firm, like an interrogator. But you could still hear the tears in your voice, and it made you want to hide in your bed like a mole dug into the dirt.

You sounded so lame.

"Listen. Let me in, real quick."

He was smiling, the same one that you saw when you first met him. Like a fucking customer service representative, trying to sell you something. At two in the morning.

"I'm not a booty call."

"No, what? Just let me inside-" You started to close the door, not caring for the force you used. He could handle it.

"Bring me flowers if you want to ask me for anything next time."

Jouno fought back easily, but was polite enough to stay between the door and the entryway. He only kept half of his body there to maintain conversation, allowing you the ability to slam the door on him if you so wished.

It was tempting, at that moment.

"I need you to listen. This isn't sex or anything."

"Can't you say it in the morning? Some people sleep."

That was a lie, but you weren't in the right mind to speak to him at that moment. He made you emotional - maybe his whole existence was making you feel too much, but that was likely heightened by the fact that you hadn't slept well for the last few nights.

"That's exactly it! You aren't sleeping. Now I can't sleep. So let me in, because I want to go to sleep-"

He pushed through your hold of the door. He had both let himself in, and you had let him.

"You're so selfish."

For some stupid reason, you had let him into your home and had already started to cry again. It had taken so long to calm down, and now you were starting the process all over again.

God, you were really starting to hate your soulmate for doing this to you.

"What? What's selfish about that?"

"You came here just so you could sleep. Why don't you figure out a way to go to sleep on your own!"

The words were spilling out of your mouth, and frankly whatever you said was not even registering in your brain.

All you knew was that you were feeling a lot at the moment. You hadn't felt like this since you were twelve and had the big mark show up on your back, making you mad for weeks.

Maybe you were still mad. And you were remembering it all just now.

Or maybe you were just really tired.

"I did try! I took enough melatonin to kill a man, but you won't let me sleep with your stupid nightmares!"

The man in front of you looked stressed, and you wanted to feel bad. But at the moment, your mind could only think of the worst words to say to him, to twist anything to try and hurt him.

You took a breath. A deep one, feeling how you were choking your brain from oxygen.

Why were you screaming at each other at two in the morning?

"Listen. I know PTSD is stressful, but you can find a way to cope with it, can't you?"

Jouno put his hands on your shoulders. He stepped into your space, and he was so close you could smell the coffee on his breath.

Maybe it wasn't you, but the caffeine he was drinking so goddamn late into the night.

"I don't have PTSD. I've never been to war."

"Then what is this then." He shook you, as if you were the stupid one here, despite walking over to someone's home in the middle of the night.

"Just something I need to get over."

That's something you had always been told. And you were sure it was something that would go away. Eventually.

"See. This is the problem. You don't even know how to deal with the problem you have. And now, I can't sleep."

The man didn't give you a chance to argue back. Before you could say anything, he hauled you onto his shoulder, his hand traveling along your back.

Desperately, you grabbed at his sweatshirt, pulling at the fabric and praying you wouldn't fall onto your face.

"Where's your bedroom? You're sleeping whether you want to or not."

Without caring to listen, he attempted to navigate your home anyway. It was a little entertaining, feeling how he turned his body in circles as he tried to figure out where to go.

"That's the wrong way. It's the other way. On the left."

You pitied him. If only a little bit.

-

"Is sleeping really that hard for you?"

Your bed wasn't small, but Jouno made it feel small with just his presence alone. His body was warmer than yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as you laid side by side, with a few fingers space between each other.

Now that you had though about it, you never had really made space for another person in your bed before. There really was only enough space for you.

"I have a strange man in my bed, can you blame me?"

"I'm your soulmate, I'm not just anyone."

Now he wanted to be something. When he wanted it to benefit him.

Maybe you were deeply bitter about the way he rejected ever wanting to be anything at all.

"You really are selfish, you know? You said you didn't want this to be a thing, but now you're going on about being my soulmate."

Because that meant something. It meant having an actual bond, a sort of relationship. This wasn't anything - at most, you had vague conversations, and now he was just a man in your bed who was upset at you for a stupid reason.

And you were mad at him. And you hoped he knew that.

"I wouldn't do this if I couldn't sleep. We're just...people who need each other."

His voice sounded off. As off as you could tell, as if he was lying, even to himself.

Why did he say these things if even he didn't believe them?

"Do I really need you?" You said the words only loud enough that the pillow could hear you, hoping that he had finally managed to go to sleep, or thought that you had.

But you felt him turn around, bouncing the bed and pulling at the blanket the two of you shared.

Of course he heard it somehow. What a freak.

"Clearly! You couldn't even save yourself. You're lucky I was there."

He was closer now, his voice nearly kissing your ears. You groaned, his volume too loud for your wallowing.

"That's your job, isn't it? To save people?"

Waving him off, you didn't bother to face him - like it would matter, when he couldn't even see you. Instead, you hugged the pillow in front of you closer, feeling how the cold fabric kissing your exposed skin.

It was rather cold for the summertime.

"...I didn't want to know you more, because I didn't want you to be hurt."

His breath tickled your neck, and somewhere along the bed you could feel his fingers dance along the fabric, far too close to your shoulders.

You didn't know him too well, but his touch didn't bother you as much as you wanted to pretend it did.

"How were you going to hurt me?"

"My job. I'm going to die, eventually. It'll be a miracle if I reach 40."

His voice was gentle, without the tone of an insurance agent. He sounded honest; speaking as if he really meant what he said.

It left you breathless, and you had to remind yourself that you needed to breathe in order to live.

"That doesn't mean anything. I would still like to know you when you're here."

There was a laugh behind you, a tired one. Maybe he was only saying these things because he was also exhausted.

A lack of sleep was worse than drugs, you had once heard before.

You couldn't even open your eyes anymore at this point. It was just your mind fighting you.

"That would be nice. But I'm not the best person, I would just make your life miserable. You're right, I am really selfish."

"I know. But I think you're worth it Jouno."

-

After that night, something felt different. Your body felt different.

For one thing, you now had Jouno's phone number. He had texted you, and told you to call him in case of emergencies only.

You had learned that meant when you couldn't couldn't sleep, he really couldn't sleep. And when you couldn't eat, he couldn't eat. and it was an emergency.

Maybe because he was blind, his soulbond appeared differently. It wasn't visual at all, but instead tormented him with your own physical sensations.

It had you wondering if he had ever felt your pain. Or felt anything else you felt.

It wasn't a conversation you were willing to have just yet. You had just started to feel comfortable texting and calling him.

Having him sleep in the same bed was as far as you two had gone, and it had only happened a few times after. He had shared meals with you as well, after you lost your appetite from a bad stomach bug.

It was a strange relationship you had formed. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get closer than you were.

Maybe you were ok with knowing him like this. Like a strange acquaintance, learning weird bits and pieces about him, with unanswered questions that you were too scared to ask.

He was your soulmate. Maybe he didn't need to be anything more than that.

-

"You know, because of you, I can't really go out shirtless anymore."

Jouno was relaxed against the table, bored as he played around with the food on his plate. Recently he wasn't able to each much at all, and you had stayed over for the last while.

But it didn't seem to have much to do with you. Right now you were stuffed, and it seemed like it was all on Jouno at the moment. He had only eaten a quarter of his plate, and you had considered feeding it to him like a child so he would eat more of it.

"Why?"

"Because. You put this on my chest."

Jouno leaned up from the table and forgot his food; taking off his cotton T-shirt, revealing what you had always believed would be there.

Two lines, right by a little ugly scar - "Stay safe, I love you."

They were a little close together, not a work of art by any means. Your handwriting on someone's skin looked...funny. Almost unreal. It looked blotched out, and it reminded you too well of how stupid you were as a teenager, tracing over the Sharpie over and over again, hoping your blind soulmate would see it.

"You're mad about it?"

"It looks like a shitty tattoo."

That was your one mark on him forever. And he called it a shitty tattoo. It wasn't like the stupid daily quotes and one-liners, it was forever.

God forbid you care about someone.

"...I thought you got stabbed." You didn't really see the point in getting hurt by what he said in anymore. This was just how Jouno was.

"Did you feel it?"

"Don't get excited! No! Weirdo!"

You kicked him from underneath the table, easily kicking at his long calves as they stuck out towards your space. Always your space, because he was a tall freak who loved to walk into the space of others, and yours was his favorite.

The man in front of you only giggled, playing footsie with his too-cold feet.

"I see it. Every time you get hurt, it shows up on my skin. You don't really give me pictures or colors. Sometimes I see sentences, but it's not enough. But I always know when you get hurt."

Which was true. You didn't have his scars, but you knew when they hurt. Because the little lines showed up.

"Not enough? Do you like hearing about my day?"

The man's voice sounded ecstatic, smiling as he trapped your feet between his own, almost in a handshake. Maybe he was playing with you, trying to flirt when he didn't mean it at all.

"I like it when you say positive things. It's not really common, you usually are threatening to kill people. It gets boring after a while."

You let him win, instead choosing to take a bite out of his uneaten food. It was right there, and you might as well take your chance, right?

"Well it did help me find you, didn't it?"

"I guess. Yeah."

You tried to take another bite, but the daisy-haired man took you hand and led the fork straight to his mouth. Part of you wanted to kill him, if it wasn't his food you were stealing from.

Maybe you actually cared about him, despite how weird he was.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jouno nodded, starting to eat now knowing that you were willing to take from his plate. Watching him was funny - trying to be as unmessy as he could, while smearing half of his face in sauce.

It was a little cute, seeing him struggle each time.

"Since I was twelve, there's this...mark, on my back. It's not really something you can see, but something you can more feel. It should be related to you, since no doctor has had an explanation for it."

Saying that was strange. The culprit was right in front of you, and now you were asking him politely, despite him being a man who broke into your home at least three times now.

"What do you think it is?" He spoke with his mouthful and no table manners, and at this rate you would rather have him eat with his hands.

"I don't know! Some fucked up masterpiece by a blind asshole I'm attached to for life. If you're an artist, I'm smacking the shit out of you."

You were starting to remember that promise when you were twelve. It really irked you that you hadn't kept to it yet.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's annoying."

Since it showed up, it ruined a lot of things for you - your expectations of your relationship, your fantasies, your dreams. It was really a bad premonition, because Jouno was just like that mark - fucking impossible to understand. And stuck to you for life.

"I can't believe you think the mark that signifies me, and our bond, is annoying. Wow, you hate me."

"You called mine a shitty tattoo!"

He stopped chewing like a marmot, going back slowly as he registered your words.

"...Okay. And?"

"Whatever. But you should get it." At the very least, if he was going to be a thorn in your side forever, he was going to be a useful one, and solve this for you.

"Why would I?"

"Don't play coy with me! That's how soulmates work! Didn't anyone tell you anything!"

"No not really. I honestly figured I would die before I met you, so I never cared."

He said this normally, as if he had said it before. It was just more dinner talk to him, as he chewed senselessly on his salad.

"...what?"

"I just never thought it would matter. I didn't think we would even meet, and I never thought about what would happen next. I don't think it's that big of a deal, really."

The world turned silent to you, as you heard him say that.

I never cared. I don't think its that big of a deal.

Then what were you doing here?

-

You never got your answer for that mark.

Stupid Jouno had disappeared to East Europe for the last two weeks, and you haven't heard back from him. Maybe you didn't want to.

He never cared.

You had spent years, before even knowing him, caring about what he would be like. You cared when he got stabbed, and you cared even when he rejected you.

But he never cared at all.

Did he never think about you? Not when you had broken your wrist? He felt your pain, didn't he feel that?

When you went to work today, you thought about getting hit by a car and seeing if he would call. Just to know if you were okay.

But that was selfish. He was probably busy, and making someone else feel the pain of getting hit by a car was more than a dick move.

You also needed that money from your job. They paid your rent, not your soulmate. That would stay a fantasy, and a dead one; where you and Jouno could function like a normal couple, and live together and maybe even get married.

If he was just a normal man. Who didn't say stupid things and hurt your feelings that you hated you had.

It was ruining the makeup that you spent hours on this morning.

-

"Hey."

"...It's been two months, and that's all you have to say? Hey?"

You had been ready to receive the news that he had died while he was there. Or at least see it on TV. He was practically MIA with the other Hunting Dogs, and no one in the government knew what the hell was going on.

"Listen. It's been a rough two months. When I come back, I want to see you. First thing.

"The hell am I to you? A dog? Should I come back with the morning newspaper?"

"I didn't realize you came with perks." He sounded exhausted over the phone, but his laugh was still the same. It managed to annoy you as well, even after not hearing it for two months.

"Go fuck yourself!"

"...Are you mad at me?"

Yes. You honestly had been mad at him since you knew him, but that wasn't something you wanted to admit to yet.

"No. You just caught me at a bad time."

"Just be at my apartment, alright? And wear that short dress with the strings. Or nothing at all."

"Is this a bootycall?"

"I call you for more things than that."

What an asshole. Jouno was supposed to be a logical man, but he had no clue how to navigate a human relationship it seemed. It was as if he was stepping on seashells every time, and you had to watch them crumble underneath his stupid boots.

He is horrible at navigating anyone's emotions. He only seemed to be able to hurt them.

You tried to keep your voice calm, despite the fact you wanted to cry. Part of you was proud that only your eyes were wet, knowing that Jouno wouldn't know how much he bothered you with his stupidity.

"We aren't anything. This is something."

"...Can we be something? I miss you."

He was almost whimpering over the receiver, and you hoped that someone on the other end could record what he looked like. Because he must have looked funny, begging and pleading like a dog.

"I'm expecting flowers. Or chocolate."

"You like dark, right? You have horrible tastebuds."

"Says the idiot who drinks more milk than coffee." He really should just add an espresso shot to his glass of milk, it was disgusting how much he added and then claimed he loved caffeine.

"Okay. Whatever. Love you."

God, what the hell was wrong with Jouno?

-

"The mark on your back."

Jouno's hand trailed up your spine, his fingers dancing along the little lines that made up the mark, as if reading it like a page in a book.

It felt good.

"Yeah?"

"It's a map." His lips were right above your ear, and you could feel how his breath fanned across your face. This man had no sense of personal space around you.

"Okay. And of what?"

"It's a map of my childhood home. I haven't been there in years. I don't know why it's on your back."

His fingers went lower, to the little part that was raised more than the rest. It looked like a mole, although the skin around it gave the impression of a faded scar, from what you had been told.

"How do you know it's a map?"

"I memorize everywhere I've been."

"And you know just by feeling it?" His hand splayed out against your back, making you feel small. Jouno's hands were not as soft as voice, and you could feel the work he put in them as his callouses brushed against your skin.

"I've never felt it before. But I know. It's strange that it's on your body."

"Well, it means something. It's been there since forever."

Over a decade now. It had taunted you for over a decade.

"...I haven't been there in a long time."

The man plopped his body down next to you, drapping half of himself on top of you. He was heavy, and his face was nearly smushed against your own as he lay there, as if he were a weighted blanket and not a man.

"You know there's another half of the bed, right? You own a king-sized mattress."

And silk sheets, that smelt really good.

He could roll over and still have space to spread out. There was no reason for him to treat your space like it was his own.

"You smell good." To exaggerate, he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, smelling your neck and ear as if you were a living room candle.

You tried to push him away, laughing as he stuck his nose in the one ticklish spot along your neck, but it was hard to fight in the position you were in. Pulling against his hair and kicking against him was futile as he pulled you in closer, grabbing you two into a hold as he decided that your sweaty body was the best thing he had smelled since soap had been invented.

"Freak!" It was hard to stay serious as his arm danced along your sides, having you choke on the word as it sputtered out in laughter.

Jouno only laughed at your struggles. Because of course they were funny to a sadist like him.

-

"I um. I got you flowers."

Jouno looked funny when he tried to be anything other than a soldier or an asshole.

He dressed up - and not to beat a man to death, but because he was seeing you. On a date.

The first one since you had actually known each other. It was such a mundane thing, but it felt like you were seeing a wild animal playing dress up. His hair was done as nice as it usually was, and he was dressed in an outfit that you could picture him wearing to an event - he looked like he didn't have a criminal record.

The flowers added to it, bouncing from in front of him and between his side, as if he had never given a woman flowers in his life before.

His smile said otherwise, which couldn't help but make you laugh inside.

"For?"

"To apologize." He decided to push them into your hands, grabbing them around the stems and making sure you weren't going to drop them to the floor.

You would never do that. They smelled too nice.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"There's a lot of times I've made you cry. Usually, you apologize for that." His voice was low, as he fixed the bouquet he couldn't see. His hands were nervously looking for things to pick at, as if they had eyes of their own and could fix the world one little detail at a time.

His face stayed frozen in his stupid little smile.

"Well, it's not like I'm upset about it now."

"Can't you just accept some flowers?"

His hands decided to fix your hair, brushing down flyaways that didn't exist. If you stared only at his smile, you would think he was as calm as a still pond.

"...They're nice." They were your favorites. They matched what your childhood self had pictured for her stupid little wedding day. One you had given up on, but still wanted to believe in.

Maybe still did, in some way.

Jouno wasn't exactly what you pictured - he looked more like a fox than a handsome prince, and the way he smelled your head right now was more weird than romantic, but you were willing to take it.

He might have been your handsome prince.

"So is there a date planned? Or are we just standing in a park?"

"Why do you always question me?"

"You don't really know what you're doing."

Jouno was a brilliant man in a lot of things. But god he could not make up his mind when it came to you and what he wanted out of this.

Was this really that hard?

"You've seen me at work."

"Okay? Are we going to kill bank robbers or something? Is that our first date?"

The man most certainly had his gun on him, which confused you, because you knew that he hated using it more than any other weapon he owned. But yet you were sure that tucked away in his Chelsea boots was his little handgun, that he would pull out in a moment's notice.

Maybe he had one tucked away in his pants somewhere. He didn't seem to bring his sword, which is the only weapon he hadn't complained about to you yet.

"...It's the boring romance stuff. You like that."

"It's not boring-"

"I've seen your movies. It's boring."

He rolled his shoulders back, scanning the park as his earring danced against his neck.

"And what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Never really thought about it." His hands started to dance along your jacket, pulling against the lapels as if there was lint that he could actually see.

"Maybe you actually like the boring stuff, and just don't know it."

You started to ignore him, instead deigning to walk ahead of him with the bouquet he gave you.

Were you going to carry this the entire time?

"A walk in the park? You think that's fun?" He only took two big steps to catch up to you, and you dared to kick at him. You didn't care if you were trying to trip a blind man - Jouno wasn't a regular blind man, and he would probably throw you both into the grass eventually after one of you said something stupid.

"It's fun when it's with people you love."

Taking the bouquet, you gently slapped him with it. The daisy-haired man snorted back.

This is close enough to what you wanted.

Hey guys ignore the fact that I originally uploaded this half unfinished yesterday! This is for my Valentine's day event, so go check that out lol. Also sorry that its. So long.