#L chronic migraine moment

[wokecipher]

I realized I never introduced my "billsona"

So uh :3c hi this is me

here's some art i made while experiencing an awful migraine and some a really bad chronic pain flair up (wow, a sequel?!)

i survived, im such a trooper guys, im such a cool little guy

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Count the Cost [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@lone-nyctophile) Center (@weemsicalweems) Right (@paracosmoon)

Prompt: An unspoken conversation rocks Emily and the reader's relationship when Prentiss gets shot on a case. 

Pairing: Emily x Non-BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns. 

Category: angst/comfort 

Word Count: 5.1K

Content Warnings:  Use of nicknames [sweetheart, love, etc.] throwing up/nausea, airports, Emily getting shot, not described in detail, hospitals [waiting rooms. IV’s, medical equipment.] brief mention of periods/chronic pain/migraines.

A/N: Hi loves! Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The dialog prompt this was based on was “There are a million reasons not to do something.” This is the fourth part of my Emily x Non-BAU!reader series. You can find Part I, Part II, and Part III here (all fics linked). However, you can read this as a standalone. You just need to know that the reader works for a senator. I had fun writing a bit of angst between these two. Of course, I hope I made the ending worth the angst. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading.  Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_y/l/n_ = your last name 

_y/f/s_ = yuur favorite senator 

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 

The tiredness and dryness of _y/n_’s eyes didn’t stop her from keeping them open. There would be no sleep on the small dark cabin airplane tonight. The early morning flight to Kansas had been as unexpected as the call from a number _y/n_ had never seen at 2:47 a.m. At first, _y/n_ had thought it was just spam, but when she listened to the nurse on the other end of the line say he was trying to reach Emily Prentiss’s emergency contact, _y/n_’s stomach dropped like a stone. _y/n_ panicked, hit answer, and with a shaky voice said, “This is _y/n_ _y/l/n_. What’s happened to Emily?” There was a pause as the nurse took a moment to properly identify _y/n_, who was standing up and pacing with worry. Finally, the nurse replied, ‘Miss Prentiss was brought into the hospital about a half hour ago. She’s been shot.” _y/n_ nearly dropped the phone and said, “Shot! Shot where? Is she seriously injured, is there anyone there with her like law enforcement? She has a dangerous job. Someone might be after her. Try to kill her even.” _y/n_ realized that the last question was stupid because, generally, if you shot at someone, you were trying to kill them. But _y/n_’s thoughts were too paranoid and catastrophized to notice more than that. There was a pause that only deepened _y/n_’s fear. Finally, the man on the other end of the line replied, “Miss Prentiss was shot in the shoulder, has remained unconscious, and has lost a significant amount of blood. We aren’t sure about the type of bullet. And we can’t speak about anyone else on the hospital grounds, ma’am. The hospital is aware of Miss Prentiss’s situation.” _y/n_ took that to mean that they knew Em was an FBI agent. At this point, with  _y/n_ knowing that Emily was hurt, potentially significantly, without any idea if she was alone or not, convinced _y/n_ that she should get to the hospital as soon as possible. Even if it meant having to phone bank, raise funds for the campaign, and edit _y/n_’s _y/f/s_ speeches in a hospital waiting room. This was the first time that Emily had been in serious, medical danger since _y/n_ and Prentiss had started dating. Sure, Em had come home once with a few cuts and scraps from a fall or a scrap with an unsub. Fights that Emily always won, it seemed. But this, _y/n_ didn’t know what to do about this, as she threw some clothes into a backpack along with some work stuff. 

_y/n_ sat on the edge of her bed, the room illuminated by a single lamp, as _y/n_ looked for the earliest flight to Topek, Kansas. _y/n_ had at least had the foresight to ask for the name of the hospital from the nurse before saying that she’d be there as soon as possible. It seemed like a miracle that there was a flight leaving for Kansas at 5:00 a.m. that morning. It was a blessing, but the price of the ticket and the circumstances under which _y/n_ had to book them were like a living purgatory or limbo. Time seemed to barely pass. _y/n_ got to the airport, moved through security, and then waited for the plane to land on the tarmac. _y/n_ sent a hasty email to work letting them know that an emergency had come up, but that she’d brought her computer with her and could be accessed through email or her cell after she landed. The flight from D.C. to Kansas was no better for _y/n_’s nerves. _y/n_ had put on her comfiest _y/f/c_ sweater and kept ordering coffee after bland and burnt coffee. The acid taste of the hot liquid left _y/n_ feeling queasy and by the third hour of the flight, she was ready to be on the ground again. That wouldn’t happen for another hour and a half. Once in the Topeka airport, _y/n_ moved to the bathroom and threw up. The nerves and too much caffeine had that effect that made her body reject anything trying to keep it going. It was one of _y/n_ least favorite things about herself. 

Emily had been so worried one day after a very stressful workday when y/n_ had to run to the bathroom and threw up. Em had pulled y/n_’s hair back and then handed her a cool damp towel to run over her face. After _y/n_ had rinsed her mouth and sat back down on the bathroom floor to take a few breaths, Emily sat down across from her in the small space. Prentiss took hold of _y/n_ delicate hands and asked, “What’s wrong, love? Are you sick?” _y/n_ let out a sigh and said, “I’m not sick, sick. This happens pretty often actually. When I get very stressed, it just kind of happens.” Emily nodded and said, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That has to be awful.” _y/n_ shrugged and replied, “You get kind of used to it, I guess.” Prentiss squeezed her hand and said, “Well how about we get off these cold tiles and make you a cup of ginger tea to settle your stomach?” _y/n_  nodded and accepted Emiy’s hand up. That was one thing about Em that _y/n_ would never get over, just how caring her girlfriend was. The warm memory washed over _y/n_, and she was reminded that Emily was now in a hospital somewhere, possibly alone. This thought had _y/n_ get up quickly and rinse her mouth in the bathroom sink. _y/n_ grabbed her backpack and moved outside, flagging down a cab. She told the driver the name of the hospital to take her to. The closer they got to the hospital, the more anxious _y/n_ got. She was almost buzzing in her seat. She was also feeling sick with worry, but there was no time for that now. At the hospital, _y/n_ paid the driver and moved into the bright light of the room. 

_y/n_ hadn’t gotten a follow-up call from the place of healing which made _y/n_ assume that Emily hadn’t taken a turn for the worse, but there was still a huge amount of dread as she approached the front desk. The charge nurse looked up at her and said, “How can I help you miss?” _y/n_ wrung her hands together and said, “My name is _y/n_, _y/l/n_. The hospital called me a couple of hours ago about my partner being shot. Emily Prentiss? Is she okay? I came as quickly as I could.” The woman gave her a soft smile and replied, “Let me check with the doctor for a moment. I’ll be right back.” _y/n_ stood and waited. The bright lights in hospitals always put _y/n_ on edge. She was more of a lamp and soft light person. Sometimes, when the lights were bright like these, _y/n_ could hear the electricity above. _y/n_ waited with anticipation when a slightly familiar voice called out, “_y/n_? Is that you?” _y/n_ whipped her head around and saw the bright colors of Penelope Garcia. A flood of relief washed over _y/n_, and she nearly ran to Emily’s team member. Penelope opened her arms and _y/n_ nearly fell into them. Garcia enveloped her in a hug, saying, “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” _y/n_ felt the panicky feeling bubble up in her and said, “I got a call from the hospital. We’re each other's emergency contacts. It sounded bad so I came right away.” An older man, whom _y/n_ had never seen before said, “I guess y’all haven’t had the talk yet.” _y/n_ lifted her face from Penelope’s shoulder and asked, “What talk?” Garcia let _y/n_ go slightly and turned her toward the man, saying, “_y/n_, meet David Rossi.” Dave gave the young woman a small smile and extended his hand saying, “_y/n_ it’s nice to finally meet you. Emily talks about you all the time.” Rossi didn’t mince his words, as he added, “You make her very happy. I’m sure she’ll be glad to know that you’re here.” _y/n_ nodded, taking his hand in hers. Now that she was here, _y/n_ was beginning to feel better, but there was still the worry, and now _y/n_ had more questions than before. _y/n_ started with the big thing, asking, “Is Emily alright? The charge nurse was just going to check for me.” Rossi let out a sigh and said, “The last we heard the doctor in charge of her care was trying to stabilize her.” _y/n_ nodded and processed the information. The next thing _y/n_ asked, because her head was buzzing with many thoughts, and not all of them were as important as the rest. So _y/n_ just asked, “What’s ‘the talk’ Emily and I were supposed to have had by this point?” 

Before Rossi had a chance to say that was a conversation that should probably happen between Emily and _y/n_, Aaron and the doctor emerged from a hallway that led into the hospital's interior. _y/n_ didn’t recognize either man, but the members of the BAU team present, Rossi, Spencer, and Penelope seemed to. Everyone turned to the two men and waited with bated breath for information. The doctor approached the group and Aaron moved to the left flank of the team. The somber leader of the BAU noticed the new edition to the party immediately but didn’t want to cut off the doctor’s statement. There would be time for questions later. Doctor Smith took a breath before saying, “Miss Prentiss is more stable now. She left a significant amount of blood and the bullet was lodged in her left shoulder. The shot was dangerously close to her carotid artery, thus the excess loss of blood. However, I’ve managed to dislodge the bullet. It was a 9mm soft point bullet. The damage could have been much worse. I gave her a transfusion and stabilized the wound. She should make a full recovery. It will take time but she should be okay if she takes things slow. I’ll let you see her when she wakes in a few hours. I’ve given Miss Prentiss a mild sedative for now.” The doctor walked away to speak to a nurse nearby. The team seemed to instantly relax, but _y/n_ didn’t take the news so well. _y/n_was shocked to hear what Emily had been through, the pain, and the near-death experience of her partner The suddenly relaxed attitude of the team also surprised _y/n_. How the group could suddenly be so calm was beyond her. _y/n_ wanted to say something, but she was cut off by the last man that she didn’t know in the group. By his demeanor and solemnity, _y/n_ had to guess that the man was the leader of the BAU, Agent Aaron Hotchener. _y/n_ was proven right when the tall man said, “Hello. I’m Aaron Hotchner. I assume you’re _y/n_?” _y/n_ nodded and Aaron took on a look of understanding. With a tone that was slightly softer than his normal demanding voice, he said, “Can you give the team a few minutes to talk, alone?” _y/n_ wanted to protest, but then realized that this was all their job, she was just here. Emily was alive, and there wasn’t more she could do here until Em woke up. _y/n_ sat down in an uncomfortable chair. The tiredness seemed to hit her all at once and _y/n_ closed her eyes. She was too far away to hear what the BAU members were saying, but the tone was serious. After the conversation, _y/n_ watched as Spencer and Rossi left the hospital. This left Aaron and Penelope standing in the hallway. _y/n_ watched as Agent Hotchner put a hand on Garcia’s shoulder, said a few words, and then pulled a cell phone from his black slacks and took a call. 

Garcia moved toward _y/n_ and sat next to her. The normally bright and spunky tech wizard held out a hand for _y/n_ to hold and anchor to. _y/n_ took it and sniffled. _y/n_ asked, “I thought you didn’t go on cases, Penelope? At least, that’s what Emily said.” Gacia smiled and replied, “I don’t normally go on cases, no. They needed my tech skills in person on this one. I’m happy Hotch, Aaron, asked me to come because I was able to find Emily in time.” _y/n_ squeezed Penelope’s hand. She knew that Garcia was as upset about what had happened to Em as she was. _y/n_ knew the whole team was, even those not at the hospital. However, Penelope showed that concern more openly. _y/n_, like Garcia wore their heart on her sleeve. _y/n_ looked at the technical analyst and asked, “Can you tell me how you found her? Is the um…” _y/n_ tried to remember the word for unsub, and it clicked. “...unsub been caught yet?” Gacia gave _y/n_ a small sad smile and said, “I can’t tell you, _y/n_. The investigation is still ongoing. I know it’s frustrating, but I can’t say.” _y/n_ nodded in understanding. In some ways, it was annoying but more than anything it was just difficult. Up until that point, Emily’s job had been something exciting to talk about. And _y/n_ did worry about her when she was on a case, but Em had never been seriously wounded while they had been together yet. But now the possibility that Emily could die, could be stripped from _y/n_ forever, every time she stepped out the door to a case, became a possibility. This was a new kind of dread that _y/n_ realized she was going to have to live with. That possibility felt like the discomfort of knowing a period was coming next week. And that menstruation could be better or worse or not happen at all some months, but the possibility was always there. At least until menopause. Or if someone had migraines or other chronic pain. _y/n_ realized how gross and juvenile those comparisons were, but it was the best her brain could come up with at the moment. There was a shift when Aaron came back, the phone still in his hand and pressed to his ear. The tall man walked up to Penelope and said, “Garcia, Morgan has a question for you.” Penelope stood and took the phone from Hotch and moved over to the corner where he had just been standing. The hospital was pretty crowded and the chair Gacia had just vacated was one of the only ones open. Hotch looked down at Emily’s girlfriend. The woman had a look on her face of understanding of what a job at the BAU really meant. Aaron pulled _y/n_ from those thoughts when he asked, “May I sit here?” _y/n_’s eyes snapped to his firm ones, and she said, “Of course, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner?” _y/n_ strumbled through the possible names to call him. Neither she had tried to work. The man let out a small breath that might have been a laugh as he said, “You can just call me Hotch, or Aaron.” There was a small silence before Aaron said, “It’s nice to meet you, _y/n_. I wish it was under better circumstances than this.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “It’s nice to meet you too, Aaron.” The next half hour was spent making small talk and _y/n_ looking at her hands or the hands of the clock slowly ticking by. As the time moved, the dread returned and Aaron could feel it like a weight on _y/n_’s frame. 

Hotch understood. Not from _y/n_’s point of view, but the other way around. He knew how it felt to leave Haley and Jack and not know if he’d see them again. He knew how those feelings for Haley had been so great that she had to step away. He didn’t blame her for that. It was clearly all new to _y/n_ and he softly said, “It’s not fair.” _y/n_ looked over at him and said in a weary voice, “What do you mean?” Hotch shifted in the chair and sighed very softly before saying, “It’s not fair for the people who stay behind. I can’t speak for Emily, but I know she understands that too.” Feeling slightly defeated by the circumstances and new reality, _y/n_ replied, “I was living in a fantasy world where she never got hurt, and that’s been shattered for me. I know fantasies are silly things and we don’t live in them, but I’m not sure how to deal with this kind of uncertainty.” _y/n_ turned and Aaron, the man Emily had spoken so highly of as the fearless leader of the team, was looking right at her. Not just right at her, but right into her, with an understanding that _y/n_ was unaware was possible. _y/n_ suddenly understood why the man was so respected. Hotch replied, “I think that’s a conversation you should have with Emily. That’s the best advice I can offer you.” It was with that last full conversation they shared before the doctor returned and told them that Emily was up now. They both stood up, and _y/n_ realized that Aaron was going to need to speak to her alone. Emily probably had some information that he needed. Hotch turned and said, already a step ahead of _y/n_, “I’ll make it as quick as possible, _y/n_. You’ll see her soon.” _y/n_ nodded. The anxiety came back to the surface. She spent the next forty-five minutes pacing the waiting room and counting the ceiling tiles. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a nurse came back and led _y/n_ to the back of the hospital. _y/n_ watched from the closed blinds as the shadow of Hotch stood from a chair near the shadow of the bed and the medical equipment. He opened the door and held it open so _y/n_ could slip into the small room. _y/n_ looked at Aaron and they exchanged a brief nonverbal “thank you” with each other. Once the door was closed, all _y/n_ could think of was Emily. _y/n_ rushed into the room and to her bedside. The brunette turned her head to see _y/n_ and tried to fake a smile. _y/n_ saw right through it as she sat down in the chair and took Em’s hands in hers. Prentiss had an IV in her arm and there were multiple monitors attached to her chest. Then there was the large bandage wrapped around Emily’s left shoulder. _y/n_ could see it under the flimsy hospital gown covering Em’s body. _y/n_ took a second to look Prentiss over and then asked, “How are you feeling, please don’t try and make it sound better than it is because, to be honest, you look rough.” Emily let out a shaky breath that _y/n_ knew to be a laugh. The sound could make _y/n_ cry at that moment. _y/n_ did start crying once Em started talking. Her voice was hoarser than usual and it sounded thin, but Prentiss said with sincerity, “Well I’m on a lot of drugs, so I don’t feel anything too much right now. Even with that being the case, my shoulder feels like a mountain either got dropped on it, or something burst out of it like Aliens or something. And there are some scrapes and bruises from when I fell.” _y/n_ nodded along noting how pale Em looked. _y/n_ was amazed that Prentiss could even speak as coherently as she was. It was a reminder that Emily could be tough as nails. However, _y/n_ could see the hints of pain in the corner of Emily’s eyes and the firm line of her mouth. She also looked tired. _y/n_ knew there needed to be some conversation between them to address what had happened with her injuries and _y/n_ being there at the hospital. Prentiss had seemed surprised almost when _y/n_ walked through the door, though it was clear that Aaron had told Em that she was there. Deciding to postpone that conversation for when Emily was a bit stronger, or at least in less pain, _y/n_ said, “Why don’t you rest for a while, Em? I’ll be here when you wake up.” Emily nodded and closed her eyes. The only sounds in the room were the soft beeping of the machines in the room and _y/n_ and Em’s soft breathing while both of them rested. 

An hour or so later the doctor came back and checked on Emily’s vitals and administered another dose of the various medications Em was on. A nurse also raised the head of the bed and promised to bring Emily some food. Once the medical professionals were gone, _y/n_ looked at Emily. They were both slightly refreshed in a way, and with the prospect of food on the way it gave them a timeline of something happening. It was helpful because time in a hospital just seemed to stretch on forever. Lunch provided a definite finite point in space. Both Em and _y/n_ just knew that their conversation was going to at least start before Prentiss’s food arrived. _y/n_ started the dialog by asking the hard question, “Am I not supposed to be here, Em? Is there something I’ve missed? The team seemed very surprised I guess when I showed up.” Emily, with her piercing eyes, looked at _y/n_ and sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this talk forever. She replied, “No _y/n_, it’s okay that you’re here. If it wasn’t, Aaron or Rossi would have sent you away by now. It’s just they didn’t expect you. Partners don’t normally come to see an agent until after the case is over.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and said, “But how would I know that, Em? You never told me that. I just heard that you were hurt, maybe seriously, and I didn’t know if you were alone. How could I not jump to be here with you?” Emily nodded, knowing this wasn’t on _y/n_ and wanting to reassure her. Prentiss said, “_y/n_, you didn’t know because we haven’t had that conversation yet.” _y/n_ bit her lip wondering if this was “the talk” that they hadn’t had yet. _y/n_ released her lip from her mouth and asked uncertainly, “Em we’re almost five months into this relationship, what is this important conversation we haven’t had yet?” 

Em could see that this lack of information was distressing to _y/n_ and Emily said, “The conversation about what happens if I get hurt. If I die doing this job.” _y/n_’s eyes widened and she said, “That seems like a pretty important conversation to have. I mean, we’ve talked about the risks. I just assumed that if the hospital called I should come.” Emily looked at _y/n_ and replied, “It’s not always that easy, _y/n_. Sometimes they can’t tell you. Even if it’s bad. So bad that I might not make it. If the hospital does call, like I said, most people just wait until the case is over, or their partner lets them know.” _y/n_ struggled to process the information and said, “So if the hospital, or you, or Garcia tell me you’re seriously hurt like shot in the arm say, I just have to wait and see what happens? If that’s the norm, why didn’t you tell me that, Em?” Emily listened to the desperation in _y/n_’s voice, at the fear of being left out of such important information. Meanwhile, _y/n_ struggled to comprehend having to just wait and see for something as important as Emily’s life to be had or lost. Finding out that Emily being shot had nearly put _y/n_ into a downward spiral, having to just wait and hear if the love of _y/n_’s life had made it or not at the end of a case seemed unsurmountable. It was asking too much. Em watched these emotions play out on _y/n_’s face, and _y/n_’s expression of what she was being asked was why she had avoided this conversation for so long. Because the reality of what loving an FBI agent entailed often sent people running in another direction. To something or someone more stable. A place where the likelihood of pain and uncertainty was far less. Prentiss swallowed and said, “I let you down, _y/n_. By not telling you this earlier. At how much of a sacrifice this is. I didn’t tell you because I had been so lucky that I hadn’t been hurt before. At least not when I was with you. I suppose I was naive and just hoped my luck would keep going, but it didn’t. I also didn’t tell you because when that conversation happens it forces people to choose whether or not this is something they can take. I was careless with your feelings by not telling you. I just love you so much that I couldn’t think about losing you because of that conversation. I’m sorry, _y/n_. I’m sorry for putting you through this the way I did. What happens from here is up to you, _y/n_. If you don’t think you can take that stress, I understand. You just have to count the cost of if it’s worth being with me and understanding how it works sometimes. Just know that every time I step into the bullpen, or onto the plane, I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of making the world a safer place for you.” 

Emily realized that she wasn’t letting _y/n_ get a word in edgewise, because she was afraid of what _y/n_ might say or do. But it was up _y/n_ now, and Emily thought that perhaps _y/n_ was going to get up and leave right then and there. It had happened to her once before. _y/n_ sat silently in her chair and closed her eyes wondering if she could take it. _y/n_ did feel like Emily had kept this from her, but it had been out of a fear of losing her. Their relationship flashed through _y/n_’s mind and the love, passion, and warmth filled _y/n_ nearly to the brim. She tried to compare it to the anxiety she had felt and would feel in the future if Emily got hurt again. As painful the uncertainty was, the love outweighed the fear, and _y/n_ looked at Em and said, “There are a million reasons not to do something. A million reasons why you didn’t want to have this talk with me, a million reasons why I could walk away, but I just need one reason to stay, and that’s you, Emily Prentiss. I’m picking you. I’m going to pick you every time. But no more secrets. No more missed conversations. If we’re going to make this work for the long run, which is what I want, then we have to be honest with each other. Even if it’s conversations that are painful.” Em nodded with tears in her eyes as she said, “You’re everything to me _y/n_. I promise to tell you everything. The good and the bad, there won’t be any more surprises. I’ve never met anyone so willing to love me. To choose me over the uncertainty.” _y/n_ leaned in and kissed Em’s hand. She would kiss Em all over if it wouldn’t hurt her. 

Their brief moment of intimacy was interrupted by the nurse bringing in a plate of soft foods for Emily. _y/n_ pulled back, and the woman looked at them for a moment before setting the tray on the bed. The older woman said, “Make sure to use your right hand only. You shouldn’t move your left arm or shoulder at all.” Emily looked at the stern woman and nodded. With that missive, the nurse left them again. _y/n_ watched as Emily attempted to poke at some jello with a spoon unsuccessfully. _y/n_ couldn’t help but chuckle and Em looked at her saying, “Hey, no laughing at me. I’m injured.” _y/n_ fixed her face and said, “Well then let me help you because that jello is fighting for its life right now.” That comment had Em laugh slightly and it felt good to have their dynamic closer to their normal. Em teased, “Hey I’m a big girl. I think I can handle it.” _y/n_ sighed and took the spoon from Prentiss’s hand as _y/n_ said, “Listen, love, you’re the bravest person I know. We just had a brave conversation, now I just need you to be brave enough to let me help you, okay?” Em smiled and gave in saying, “Okay love, and for the record, you’re pretty brave yourself.” Though their relationship had been rocked, momentarily, their foundation was strong, built on trust and love that could endure hard storms and conversations. _y/n_ and Em were affirmed of their love for each other as Em allowed _y/n_ to feed her in an intimate act of caring. 

That evening when Morgan and Penelope moved back to the hospital to check on their teammate, Derek asked, “You really think Prentiss didn’t tell _y/n_ about coming during cases?” Garcia replied, “She couldn’t have, or why else would _y/n_ have shown up here?” Morgan nodded and said, “Well I bet that was a tough conversation.” The pair moved to Emily’s room and stopped. Inside the darkened space, they could see Emily sleeping while holding _y/n_’s hand. _y/n_’s head was resting on the edge of the bed and they both seemed to be at peace. Penelope softly said, “Maybe it wasn’t so hard after all.” Pen let out a sigh and said, “Let’s get a coffee or something, we should let them rest.” Derek agreed, and they let the couple rest and recuperate in the love they had for each other.

______________________________________________________________

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[minigirl87]

We love you, and as such, we take care of you with the moon boys

First, I want to apologise for not posting anything in a little while. I've got plenty to come. But I've had a bad couple of weeks with a mixture of chronic pain and mental health. Brain fog was not helping me write anything or have any good ideas.

This is pure self-indulgence and is dedicated to any suffering at the moment. Know that I'm thinking of you, and I hope you get some comfort in this fic.

Steven Grant is my comfort character. I love that man I can say ❤️

Please feel free to leave feedback and to reblog.

Summary:

The boys, but mainly, this focuses on Steven comfort you and look after. Established relationships between the reader and the boys.

Warnings:

Mention of mental health and chronic pain and illness. Medication is mentioned. Reader is feeling really down and a burden to the boys. But it ends fluffy.

Word count: 1446

Steven rushed around the supermarket after finishing his shift at the museum. Apologising as he clumsy picked up things he dropped, headphones popped in so he then could talk to Marc and Jake without people noticing he’s talking to himself. He didn't want to be away from you any longer than he had, too.

“Did you get Y/Ns prescription and some ibuprofen gel, paracetamol, and the heat pads?” Marc asks with concern.

“Yes and I also got some migraine roll on and vitamins” Steven says he spies a lavender relaxation set, and he put in his basket.

“Some new pyjamas and socks, some snakes would be good” says Jake with hope that this may cheer you up.

“That’s a good idea. I’ve got her favourite snacks and some different teas and honey, Steven says. Looking through the clothing section, he picks up a pair of soft cosy pjs in your favourite colour and matching socks.

Before he checks out, he picks a bunch of flowers and a card that all three agree on. The friendly cashier who’s chatting away notice how Stevens anxiously bagging his shopping passes him the flowers

“those flowers are lovely I’m sure your wife will love them” she says with a comforting smile.

“I hope so. my wife’s not been very well lately, this is to help her feel better.” Steven tries his best to smile back at her.

“Oh sorry to hear that, I thought she hadn’t been in for a while” she said thoughtfully.

After a few more moments talking to her, Steven pays for his shopping and rushes out for his bus. He catches the bus just in time. He then sits agitatedly, tapping his foot. The drone of the engine and chattering passengers mixing into a hum that around a thoughtful Steven.

Everything is going in slow motion for them. The journey never seems to get to their stop. When it does, the apartment building seems further away than normal, and the lift doesn’t seem to move. But their minds are going over time, and Steven stomach is aching with anxiety about you.

When He enters, he drops his keys in the bowl with a clang, and the noise vibrates around the flat. The flat is dull as dusk is settling in, the only light coming from the tv as it plays your favourite comfort show as it mixes with the gentle humming of the air purifier.

Steven face fell as he looked at you. You were still in the same position when he left this morning. You didn’t look even look towards him. Steven wasn’t sure if you were watching the tv or staring in space. He places the bags down and paces toward you.

“Hello my love, how are you feeling?” Steven says, gently kissing the top of your head.

“Hi sweetheart, better now, you're back” You try not to sound exhausted.

Steven kissed you again “I’m glad to be back love”

He headed toward the kitchen, putting the bags down, putting the kettle on. You padded up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his broad back. He smells of coffee, lavender, and old books. Steven jumps slightly at your touch but soon relaxes on hearing you.

“I missed you” you almost whispered to him.

“I missed you to love” he says, turning to face you, wrapping his arms around, resting his warm hands on your lower back. You nuzzle into him as you grip onto his jacket to ground you. You were enjoying his comforting presence when the kettle whistles. Your body starts to shake as Steven grips onto you.

“go sit down, love, and I'll bring tea through for us” he kisses you lovingly as he brushes his thumb over your cheek.

Reaching up, you squeeze his hand and smile at him, turning away you return to your spot on the sofa. Before you get get comfortable, you wrap yourself in a soft blanket and rearrange the cushions. Just as you sit down, you hear a Stevens humming as he comes through with a tray covered in stuff.

“Here you are, my love. Put it in your favourite mug” he chuckles, handing you it. You can smell your favourite infusion through the swirling steam.

Your hand brushes against his. You can feel the through skin around his nails. As you take your mug. You now look at the tray, and your heart swells seeing how much they care about you with everything Steven has got in front of you.

Steven sits down next to you, mug in his right hand. You rest your right hand on his left thigh and gently squeeze it. He looks at you chocolate curls falling freely on his forehead. You know he’s been running his hand through them. He entwining his fingers with yours, raising your hand to his plump, soft lips, and kissing you.

“I’m sorry, love. You shouldn’t have to deal with this” you gesture to yourself continuing “you all deserve better, I’m so sorry” you repeat as the dam bursts and hot tears stream freely sown your face.

Steven pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you protectively. He instinctively rubs your back and kisses your hairline repeatedly. Comforting you with sweet nothing till you finally calm down. Steven helps you with this by doing breathing exercises with you and rubbing your shoulders, so a panic attack is avoided.

“I want you to look at me and listen very carefully to me, my love” Steven says directly but gently.

You look at him and nod as you fiddle with his fingers.

“Love do not apologise for being you, yes you have health problems but they do not refine you. You are not a burden. You are loving, caring, unique, wonderful, and most importantly, you are ours. We love you, and as such, we take care of you, like you take care of us, love.” Steven says lovingly caressing your cheek.

You nod nuzzling into his hand as a tear escapes you, which Steven catches with his thumb. You lean in and catch his lips tenderly kissing him to not only express your love but your gratefulness for him, Marc and Jake. Resting your foreheads together, you play with his soft curls as Steven holds you close to him.

“I love you all and appreciate everything you do. You are my sunshine on my dark days” you say with a big smile.

“How about I run you a warm bath, I got you some lavender soak, then apply a heat pad on relax with some tv. Hmmm, love ?”

“Sounds wonderful, my love” As you move off Stevens' lap, your back twinges.

After your soak, heat pad, Jakes cosy pjs and medication taken. You're wrapped in a cosy blanket that Marc had got delivered that as well. Steven comes from the kitchen with a big vase of your three favourite flowers.

“Almost forgot, we got you these love.” His voice muffled with the flowers.

He puts them down carefully on a little table next to you, with a cute lopsided smile, which you know he makes when he’s concentrating. You love it when he does this.

“You all spoil me too much, thank you” you smile, smelling the beautiful floral aroma around you

Steven sits next to you, handing you an envelope to our darling wife written on it. You open to reveal a card filled with love, comfort, and affection, each wrote their own messages. You smile as you snuggle up against him. You’re feeling better, thanks to your boys . Putting his arm around, you relish in his love and warmth. You swear this was like a portable heater.

“I love you all more than words can express, best husbands ever” You lean up, kissing him, a curl tickles your nose, and Steven’s eyes crinkle as he smiles into your kiss. Breaking away, he grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze as he reaches for the tv remote.

“Would you read to me, my darling? I love listening to you. It’s so relaxing.” You watch as his face lights up at your words

“of course, my love” he shifts slightly, getting the book you had been reading, and taking his glasses, you gently place them on him. Steven gives you a small kiss, muttering his thanks shyly. You snuggle back into his side as he rubs your side as he begins to read aloud, his voice like honey making you feel loved, wanted, and at peace.

This won’t be the last time feeling like this but with the boys by your side. You know that you’ll survive the storm.

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @my-secret-shame @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @jake-g-lockley @steven-grants-world @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @welcometostayingawake @novanitee @micheleamidalajedi @annautumnsoul

I love you all

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 31

prompt: terminal/chronic

fandoms: bnha, dn, fma, hq, svsss, tua, yoi

bnha

Anidiotropia by Kizimba

(graphic depictions of violence)

“Are you having an episode?” Aizawa asked carefully and inclined his head at Midoriya’s hand. He’d been pawing at his chest since shortly after the hero’s arrival. Keenly aware that further stress would worsen his condition, Eraserhead had kept quiet about it until it looked like he was improving.

“Mm,” he answered after a long while, blinking slowly. ---- Less than 1% of Japan’s population was quirkless and their numbers were thinning due to an unexplained increase of heart failure.

An abandoned stray living off the scraps his last foster family sends him, Midoriya Izuku is forced to take the reins on his own finances and becomes a notorious online quirk analyst. It's more than just the public that takes an interest in Japan's enigmatic QA, though, and a failing heart soon becomes the least of Izuku's problems.

blue by aworus

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

The sole purpose of Izuku’s quirk is to keep him alive.

So it’s pretty ironic that it’s also slowly killing him.

Or: Izuku’s quirk has an unforeseen side effect

More Than Just a Burden by ghosteyes

Izuku's injuries catch up to him just as they're making the move into the dorms. Not only does he decide the best way to deal with them is to ignore it as much as physically possible, but he also does his best to hide it from his friends. Until he can't.

They seem to think it's a 'big deal' his hands sometimes hurt so much that he can't use them. Izuku doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to need special treatment. He doesn't want to have this problem, but it's getting harder and harder to do anything else.

death note

Sickness by BlueberryValentine

Stunning what sickness can draw out of people. L + Light + brain cancer.

haikyuu

the galaxies were endless (i thought we were too) by cosmogony

(major character death)

soulmate /ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun A person who was made from the same star as you.

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

fma

a terrifying clamour of trumpets by ShanaStoryteller

Edward grabs Marcoh’s arm and says, “That stone – what can it heal, exactly?”

The old man’s eyebrows rise to his forehead, and he looks like he already knows the answer when he goes, “Why do you ask, Edward?”

There's no metallic footsteps so there’s no way Al’s close enough to hear them. “I’m sick,” he admits after another moment of deliberation.

svsss

Who had you was? I yes you would by technorat

(explicit) (graphic depictions of violence)

Shen Qingqiu struggles against migraines and his own exhaustion. Liu Qingge knows something is wrong but doesn't know what.

Or, Shen Yuan transmigrates into a tumor in Shen Qingqiu's head.

fuel the embers with the flames of your soul by MissParasol

(mature)

Trapped in Huan Hua’s Water Prison, Shen Yuan’s illness from his previous life relapses.

tua

Counting Down The Days To Go by siriuspiggyback

(major character death)

It started off small. Easy to explain away. That was his downfall, in the end. By the time they diagnosed him, it was too late; the cancer had gotten a tight hold on his body.

Klaus wouldn't tell his siblings, not yet, no matter how much Ben begged him. He wanted to feel as normal as he could, for as long as he could.

Bruise Easily, Bad in the Blood by siriuspiggyback

His chest aches with the force of his heart beating, and he gasps for air like a drowning man. At Ben's urging, barely audible over the ringing of his ears, he sits and puts his head between his knees. He feels like he might be floating, or rocking; the sensation is unsettling close to being blackout drunk.

After a long minute, he falls back down to earth.

Ben admits, "I don't think that was a panic attack."

"Told you so," Klaus whines weakly, too exhausted for true smugness.

yoi

don't worry by JMonCheri

(major character death)

Time seemed to slow to a stop, at first Viktor seemed to falter as he slowed alongside with time, his flush obvious on his cheeks. Viktor stopped skating, his form stayed frozen on the rink, before promptly dropping to the ice like a ragdoll.

Yuuri gasps alongside with the crowd. Viktor did not do any jumps, spins, or anything. Viktor Nikiforov, his undefeatable champion, his naive Fiancé, his love, his everything, has simply fainted.

Viktor did not look like he was going to get up anytime soon.

For the first time that night, Yuuri allowed himself to listen to the announcer’s booming voices.

“Viktor Nikiforov has fainted! Where are the medics? I repeat, Viktor Nikiforov has fainted!”

[wellnesswisp]

How Homeopathy Can Aid Your Family in Times of Illness or Injury

it’s inevitable that illness or injury may strike at any moment. When those unexpected health challenges arise, having gentle yet powerful remedies at hand can make all the difference, especially for your family. This is where homeopathy steps in as a natural and holistic approach to healthcare that can support your loved ones through various ailments and injuries.

What is Homeopathy?

Homeopathy is a system of alternative medicine based on the principle of "like cures like." In simpler terms, this means that a substance that causes symptoms in a healthy person can be used in a highly diluted form to treat similar symptoms in someone who is unwell. Homeopathic remedies are derived from natural substances such as plants, minerals, and even animal sources, making them safe and gentle for people of all ages, including children and the elderly.

How Can Homeopathy Help Your Family?

Acute Illnesses: Whether it’s a sudden fever, cough, cold, or stomach ache, homeopathy offers remedies that can provide relief from acute symptoms quickly and effectively. For example, Belladonna is often used for sudden fevers with flushed skin, while Arsenicum album is beneficial for stomach flu with vomiting and diarrhea.

First Aid: Homeopathy can be a valuable addition to your first aid kit, offering remedies for common injuries such as bruises, sprains, strains, and minor burns. Arnica, derived from the mountain daisy, is renowned for its ability to reduce pain and swelling associated with trauma and injuries.

Emotional Support: Beyond physical ailments, homeopathy can also address emotional imbalances and stress-related symptoms. Remedies like Ignatia are often used for acute grief and emotional distress, while Natrum muriaticum can help individuals cope with prolonged sadness or grief.

Chronic Conditions: While homeopathy is often associated with acute illnesses, it can also play a supportive role in managing chronic conditions such as allergies, migraines, eczema, and asthma. By addressing the underlying imbalances in the body, homeopathic remedies aim to stimulate the body’s innate healing mechanisms and restore overall health and well-being.

Boosting Immunity: One of the key principles of homeopathy is to strengthen the body’s natural defenses against illness and disease. Remedies such as Oscillococcinum and Echinacea are commonly used to support the immune system during times of increased susceptibility to infections, such as the cold and flu season.

How to Use Homeopathy Safely and Effectively:

Consult a Professional: While many homeopathic remedies are available over the counter, it’s advisable to seek guidance from a qualified homeopath or healthcare practitioner, especially for chronic or complex health issues.

Follow Dosage Instructions: Homeopathic remedies are highly diluted substances, and the dosage instructions may vary depending on the specific remedy and the individual’s symptoms. It’s essential to follow the recommended dosage and frequency for optimal results.

Monitor Progress: Pay attention to any changes in symptoms after taking a homeopathic remedy. If there is no improvement or if symptoms worsen, discontinue use and consult a healthcare professional.

Integrate with Conventional Care: Homeopathy can complement conventional medical treatment but should not replace it entirely, especially in cases of serious illness or injury. Always inform your healthcare provider about any homeopathic remedies you are using.

In conclusion, homeopathy offers gentle yet powerful support for your family’s health and well-being, providing natural remedies for a wide range of acute and chronic conditions. By incorporating homeopathy into your healthcare toolkit and using it responsibly, you can help your loved ones navigate through illness and injury with greater comfort and resilience.

Affiliate Disclaimer: This blog may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through these links, we may earn a commission at no extra cost to you.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

Elain tripped and fell in her garden.

She wasn't sure if it was just another daydream or if it was real vision, but she'd felt him, had felt a tug on her ribs urging her to wake up.

Her mate. He was in pain.

This was madness. Elain had been avoiding him like the plague for months now; what reason did he have to entertain her? But she had to do something; she had to make sure he was ok or she'd simply go mad. She didn't bother to inform anyone before she began sprinting towards him. The sun was cruel and merciless today, but she didn't care. She ran out of the palace, ran across the sweltering hot, dry streets of Velaris, ran towards the home she knew he stayed in while he was in Night. She was huffing and puffing and soaked with sweat by the time she reached his house, and she hastily tied her hair up in a messy bun.

"Lucien?" She asked as she knocked on the door. No response. Had she been foolish? Had he perhaps already left Night and she'd sprinted here for nothing?

"Lucien. LUCIEN!"

She heard the loud squeak of a mattress inside the house. He was in there, but not opening the door. "LUCIEN! I'm coming in." She pulled out one of her gardening tools and picked the lock, shoving the door open.

She found him shirtless slumped over his bed, head in his hands. Every time she saw him, his beauty struck her like a blow to the chest. She had to look away for a moment to maintain her control over her senses.

"Lucien, talk to me," Elain begged. She knelt before him, trying to move his hands off of his face so that she could see him clearly. "I'm fine, Elain," he finally mumbled, weakly trying to push her hands off of him, but Elain held firm. "No you're not," she snapped. "Tell me what's going on." She finally pried his hands away, staring at his face screwed with pain.

"Nothing I haven't experienced before," Lucien muttered, his eyes downcast. "Lucien." Elain's tone demanded that he look at her, her hands resting on either cheek. "Tell me."

He laughed under his breath. "You'll think me a weakling."

"I am your mate. Tell. Me."

Finally, Lucien relented. "Ever since- she - clawed my eye out, I've gotten chronic migraines. Usually I just use some headache powder and it goes away, but...some days it's so bad that nothing can stop it. And...I'm out of headache powder too."

Elain closed her eyes, tamping down on the visceral rage that accompanied Lucien's story. Amarantha was already dead, but ohhh what Elain would do to get a swipe at her.

She went around the room, closing the curtains, pulling an extra drape from his closet to block out additional light that might penetrate through even the curtains. "Stay here a moment," Elain said. "I'll be back."

"You don't have to-" Lucien started, but Elain was already sprinting back. It was lucky that all that gardening had made her as strong as she was, else the journey would've probably exhausted her. She had never been in Azriel's room before, but her sister Nesta had, so she had figured out the lay of the land.

She found Azriel on his bed looking at some papers. He stared at her in surprise. "Elain-"

"Can't talk," she gasped, swiping the headache powder from his nightstand. Untouched, perhaps even unopened. "I'm going to need this gift, sorry!"

Then she ran towards her room, grabbing the healing book before sprinting to the kitchen and grabbing supplies. She doubled over then, hands on her knees, taking heaving breaths.

Finally, she relented, calling for Nuala and Cerridwen. "Can you take me to Lucien's house?" she asked. They nodded assent, and Elain disappeared into the shadows for a moment before the wraiths deposited her at Lucien's house. Elain hastily returned inside, filling a glass with water before walking into his bedroom.

"I'm back with headache powder," she announced. She added some of the powder to the water, moving the glass in circles before placing a hand under Lucien's chin, lifting his mouth. "Open for me." Lucien obeyed, and Elain gently fed him the water, wiping his lips where it dripped out. Then she found a bunch of extra pillows and soft clothes, placing them beneath the already existing pillow and propping it up. Then she carefully settled Lucien's head on it. "Stay with me, Lucien," she murmured.

Then she went to the kitchen, pulling out a compress from the cold depths of the ice box, some sort of magical contraption from winter. She returned to his room, lifting his head and placing the compress beneath it. "Elain, you don't need to do all of this for me," Lucien insisted.

Elain put her hands on her hips. "I'm doing this because I want to, so you had better sit tight and deal with it, flameboy."

"Flameboy?" Lucien said incredulously, and Elain smiled slightly as she returned to the kitchen and began reading the instructions from the healing book. She had brought many herbs and oils with her, unsure of which ones she would need. Many of the ingredients could not be found in the human world and were therefore unfamiliar to her. But after twenty minutes, she found herself with a satisfactory salve.

When Lucien saw what was in her hands, he opened his mouth like he might protest, so Elain said, "Don't even think about it." She walked over to the side of the bed. "Move forward for me." Lucien obeyed. Elain dipped her fingers into the salve and began rubbing it into his scalp. His head was so hot it was like touching a stove. How much of this was his natural body heat and how much of this was the migraine?

Lucien was looking at her with so much emotion in his deep brown eye that Elain felt her heart begin to race. "No one..." he whispered, almost to himself. "No one has ever cared like this for me."

Elain pressed her lips together so that she wouldn't cry. "You deserve this," she replied, her voice wobbly. "For all that you've fought, all that you've been through. You deserve to be cared for like this."

She pulled her hands away, and found that he was crying. His tears prompted her own, and she pressed her forehead against his. "You're not alone, Lucien," she breathed against his lips. "Even when the world is against you, you will have me."

He closed his eye, savoring her words. His hand moved to the back of her head, sliding down before settling on the middle of her back. "You have had me from the moment we met," he answered.

ACTUALLY ACTUALLY

Lucien having chronic migraines due to his eye loss and his prosthesis, it getting worse with the weather and stress but he pretends it doesn't bother him but he has chronic pain and it can get bad enough it can cause eye problems in his good eye

Elain making salves for him. Elain getting compresses and adjusting the light and curtains and Lucien being so lost at the small gestures of kindess he doesnt think he deserves

DISABLED LUCIEN HEADCANONS PLEASEEEEEEEEEE

[hotch-stufff]

Migraine

Gif by eprcntiss

Hotch x reader

Warnings!: mention of chronic illness, migranes, crying

Description: reader comes into work with a migraine, Hotch takes care of her

"Y/l/n, you okay?" You hummed a response, nodding your head. Your head which was pounding. Every couple of seconds a new wave of pain rushing though. The lights were too bright, the voices too loud. Everything was just too much.

You knew you should have stayed home today. You should have listed to Aaron when he told you to stay and just rest. But you being your stubborn self said you were fine and just came into work. That decision was coming to haunt you.

* * *

The day continued in a similar fashion. The pain didn't let up for a second and the oh so annoying voice of the teams new intern wafted through the room as she walked through the door.

"I mean, maybe if we sent less agents, officers would trust us more." You tried rolling your eyes in response to her idiotic statement, but that only brought another round of pain. You hissed as the pain became close to unbearable

"Is she okay?" You sighed standing up.

"Shut up, please just shut up." You said quietly. You stood up planning on walking away, but your body had other plans. You faltered for a moment, grabbing your desk. Rossi took one look at you and quickly ran to your side yelling to Morgan.

"Go get Hotch." He steadied you. "Now." Morgan ran off in the direction of Hotchs office. Everything was becoming too much. Everyone began talking and you couldn't handle it.

"Shut Up Please!" You yelled. Which ended up being a terrible choice. The last thing you saw was Aaron yelling your name as you fell to the floor.

* * *

You awoke to someone gently running their hands through your hair, the ache in your head still very much present. It always seemed to be slightly worse after passing out. You soon came to realize you were in Hotch's office, your head in his lap.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Hotch wispered. You groaned in response. Tears springing to your eyes.

"Aaron, it hurts." He grabbed some water sitting next to him.

"I know sweetheart. But I need you to drink some water for me." You nodded sitting up slightly and taking the water from his hand. You slipped slowly as his fingers continued to soothingly run through your hair.

"Why didn't you tell me it had gotten so bad. You could have gone home." He asked, still whispering.

"I didn't ... want the team to know. It makes me feel weak." Hotch sighed softly.

"Honey, no one would think you were weak over something that you can't control. They are your family. They understand." You nodded in response, another wave of pain hitting you as you whimpered.

"Aaron. It hurts so much. Please t-take me home?" You asked as quietly as you could. Your voice strained as tears begin running down your face.

"Okay sweetheart. We can do that." He gently lifted you, carrying you bridal style to his office door. He had already packed his stuff into his car planning on taking you home as soon as you woke up.

The team wished you well wishes as Aaron carried you to the elevator. Once the there you turned your face to press your nose into his neck.

"I've got you. You're okay. You're okay sweetheart." He gently whispered in your ear. "I love you." You smiled up to him as best you could.

"I love you too." You then gave him a short peck on the lips before the next bit of pain hit. Hotch took you home and curled up with you in bed. You two stayed like that until the next day, you in his arms. And if you really thought about it, these migraines weren't as bad now that you had Aaron at your side.

-------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so keep them coming! If you would like an idea of what to request here is my promt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[railingsofsorrow]

Happier Than Ever

[B.A.U team × Reader]

summary: the bau is required on alaska for a case and reader has to confront some ghosts from her past. or, in which I got inspired by happier than ever from billie eilish.

pairing: b.a.u × platonic!b.a.u!fem!reader; slightly spencer × reader

word count: 5.1K (I've never written this?long?before?)

warnings/content: tw!drugs; tw!childhood trauma; tw!abuse; mental health issues; read at your own risk; reader is the baby of the team; too much angst <3; fluff? I think?

• Y/L/N = your last name

• reader's mother's name is Charlotte Parks

A/N: This is 100% an au because nothing came from the episodes, I created a random case for the first time. does it make sense? I hope so :)

ps: press play on happier than ever by billie while reading. the experience is 1000/1000.

➶ ➷

Kodiak was a small island located in Alaska. It had over six thousand habitants, therefore, it wasn’t a big city. It was hidden by mountains and explored by bears.

That was Y/N’s favourite thing about Kodiak; whenever she looked there were mountains covered by white dust on top of them. When she was a kid, she would imagine the bears racing to see who would be the first to reach the top of the mountain. Her mind used to be so full of innocence and fantasy.

Reminiscing these moments were something she did not want. That’s why her body froze when JJ announced the location of their next case.

“Kodiak, Alaska. Get your coats, guys.” JJ jokes halfheartedly, turning the screen off, finally. Victims images would never be easy for her. Specially children.

When Hotch declares ‘Wheels up in twenty’ everyone starts to leave the round table room to grab their stuff and meet on the jet.

As Y/N checks if everything necessary was in her go bag, Penelope approaches with her pink and blue strands and a beaming smile. “Got a coat in there, baby tiger? I checked the weather in Alaska and let me tell you; it should be considered a crime anything bellow sixty— Y/N?” The woman touches her shoulder, causing Y/N to snap out of her thoughts.

“Hey, Pen.” She knowledges the blonde with a tight-lipped smile, zipping her bag shut to put it over her left shoulder

“You’re okay, bub?” She asks as they begin to walk towards the elevator. “Seemed a little out of it for a sec,”

Y/N presses the button as soon as they get inside the metallic box. She turns to her friend with a reassuring smile, “Yeah, all good. Just an annoying headache.”

Penelope decides to believe her for now.

Before the doors can close, Spencer blocks it with his hand, smiling sheepishly to the girls as he enters the elevator.

Y/N has no idea that the headache is about to become a full on migraine of at least for three days straight.

Coming back home was like dropping a ton of bricks on her shoulders without warning. Y/N was already exhausted. By the time they landed, she had checked her bag exactly twice— going for the third time.

Spencer squinted his eyes as he glances at her, passing a strap of his satchel over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

Zipping up her bag finally, she turns to him. “Me? Yeah, I’m perfect.”

Spencer inhales deeply before talking, “Constantly checking your things and biting your inner cheek it’s a behaviour response to a chronic anxiety disorder called OCD,” He let out in one breath, squeezing the strap of his satchel nervously. “Which means that something or someone triggered you. So, I’m asking: are you okay?”

Spencer Reid was the first person Y/N clicked with when she arrived at the Bureau, she loved his ramblings, even knowing that sometimes they could get too much. Specially right now that he was throwing her OCD right at her face.

Y/N gulped down a snarky comment, turning to him with arms crossed, “Thank you for putting your profiling skills at display, Spencer. If anyone hadn’t told you that before, you are an exceptional profiler.” By the tone in her voice, despite her gentle smile, he realized she was upset. His shoulders instantly drops and he open his mouth to retract what he said, but she quickly interjects. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get to the jet.”

Spencer watches his friend go with a helpless look.

It was cold when they arrived. The snow announced that it would get even colder. Mountains were covered in white dust in the top like a white chocolate cake; that’s what made the postcards of the city.

Hotch divided the team as soon as they landed on Alaska. Rossi, Derek, and him would be going to check out the crime scene, while Spencer and Garcia would be analysing the surveillance cameras. Lastly, Emily, JJ and Y/N would be going to the police station to gather old files they’d need to investigate and talk to the families of the victims.

They noticed a pattern during the interviews by the third family member: when a school day was finished, some kids would wait for their parents to come pick them up, and some would simply walk home by themselves, since it was a short path and a seemingly safe neighborhood. The target was the kids that went home alone. Even if, in some cases, the girls had heard they left in a group, somehow, one kid would still disappear.

“There has to be a specific spot they go through. Maybe a short cut?” Y/N prompts, analysing the pictures of the crime scenes and the school surroundings at the same time. She was trying to find anything in common. Besides the trees and the avenue, there was nothing. And the unsub could not just snatch a twelve year old in the middle of their friends on a highly trafficked area.

“Even if they did get the short cut, which is a street behind the school,” Emily pointed at an image “Michael and Ella were never targeted and they always go through this way to get home.”

Y/N bit her lip pondering, “They’re the only kids to get the short cut, right?”

“Yes.” Emily confirms.

JJ sighs, sitting down in the nearest chair. “The only pattern here is that the unsub waits for them to leave school to kidnap them, not before school starts, never on weekends...”

“It’s always the last one.”

“What?” JJ and Emily look up at Y/N questioningly.

Y/N harshly places the statement documents in front of the two agents, who gets startled. “It’s always the last kid that is targeted. Look,” Her index finger points to a certain part of the statement that one of the parents gave, “Hanna’s mom says ‘we live by the park, it used to be a safe spot for children’— Okay. Now, Ryan’s parents say ‘it’s close to the school, just across the park— It’s the park! The park is the main spot for this guy. Or woman.”

“They wait for the last kid to be left alone,” Y/N carry on with the idea, straightening her back as the images gain life in her brain. They observe, intrigued. “... enter the park, they hold until an opportunity comes and bam, catches them.”

“You think they're bold to the point of kidnapping children in the middle of the park?” JJ asks, frowning.

Y/N meets her blue eyes, shaking her head, “I don’t know. But he or she sure is bold by the fact that there’s two kids missing in a course of two days.” She sits down by Emily’s side and exhales in frustration. “What do you think, guys?”

Jennifer picks up the map of the city and a red marker, “I think we need to rule out unspecified areas around the school. If the unsub goes through the park, that means they're not keeping the victims close by.” Y/N hums in agreement, standing up so she could have a better access to her friend’s work. Emily does the same thing, and occasionally gives input to where the blonde should circle.

“I’m gonna go call Hotch. See if they find anything. This could help.” JJ nods as Y/N walks out of the office. There was no reception in the room they where working in, so she had to move outside to pick up a signal.

Y/N huffs when no line appears. As she moves forward, it finally reaches a signal of reception.

She stops abruptly when she collides into someone. Quickly apologizing for her clumsiness while the phone is in her ear. However, when she looks up at the person, everything seems to freeze as the top of the mountains in Kodiak. Y/N thinks she can actually feel her blood stop running through her veins.

“Y/N?” The woman inquires, as shocked as she was.

“Agent Y/L/N?” Her boss calls through the phone at the same time.

The later that makes her blink away from the previous inertia state she was in, “Hi- hi, Hotch. I’m sorry, mhm—” what was she supposed to say anyway?

“Is everything okay, Y/L/N?”

“Yeah! Huh. We were studying the geographical profile and we found a common spot where the kids pass by.” Y/N stole a last glance at the woman, that kept on staring at her as if she was a ghost, and stepped towards the exit of the police station. Pretending there was a better reception there. “I thought it was important for you to know, since you’re in one of the crime scenes. Is everyone there?”

Cleaning her throat—that suddenly seemed very dry—she holds for a reply.

“Everyone is here, sunshine. Go ahead.” Derek’s voice chimes on the line. Thinking that Hotch must’ve put on speaker, she begin the theory she and the girls had created.

Although, as soon as the call ended, her mind went back to the police station. And someone she hasn’t see for a long time.

A few hours later, the team joined each other to talk about the profile they would be delivering to the community.

“I’ll make some calls for the press conference,” JJ announced, leaving the room. The rest kept on sharing ideas while the public announcement didn’t came.

“How come the only thing that was found was a handkerchief?” Garcia pressed, typing loudly in her computer. Her deep frown gave away her annoyance with the case. “This bastard kidnaps children and has the audacity to, not only think about everything beforehand, but he also knits up after taking them away!”

Spencer nods fast while scribing away in the board with his messy handwriting. “That says a lot about the unsub, actually. The fact that he hasn’t left anything else in the other crime scenes means that he or she is a person with neat behaviour,” He closes the marker with a click and turns around before continuing the clarification. “Which leads to an organized offender, that is likely to be antisocial, cold...” He gives a pointed look to Y/N, who was watching his explanation quietly. The agent’s eyes widened, indicating she was caught off guard.

“Huh... Probably has OCD tendencies and is inclined towards a more dangerous persona.” Y/N concludes, breathing out in relief right after. She sends him a dirty glance, “I told you not to do that, Reid.”

Spencer simply shrugs, unbothered. A hint of a smile on his lips.

Y/N was finishing a master’s degree in psychology behaviour, so she asked who she considered to be the best professional in the area to give her some inputs: Spencer Reid. She just did not know his method of teaching were questions like that in the middle of random investigations, completely unexpected.

“But, they can also be social, right?”Y/N recalls some of his words from few days back, biting the cap of the pen distractedly, “Have a steady job... Family... Which changes the usual organized profile.”

“That way he can gain trust and insert himself in the investigation. You’re doing a good job, sweetheart. Keep it up. I know the teacher helps.” Derek playfully slaps Spencer in the shoulder and gives a wink at Y/N, that just roll his eyes at his antics.

“Please, if cornering is a great method of teaching...”

“Oh, c’mon!” Reid complains at her.

She grins at him, throwing a crumpled paper ball in his direction. He doesn’t dodge in time and it hits his cheek.

“Good aim, baby tiger.” Penelope lifts her hand to high five her. Y/N obeys proudly.

“Okay, children.” Rossi enters the room with Aaron on his heels. All attention goes to him. “Time to go. It’s all for today.”

Emily frowns, “But, aren’t we delivering the profile?”

“Not today,” Hotch says, “We should sleep on it to deliver something more concrete in the morning. Besides, the whole city is on edge, this will only cause a bigger disruption tonight.”

Everyone agrees. It was a delicate case, and a bunch of tired FBI agents or a frantic community wouldn’t be of much help. So, they left the station and went to their cars to get to the designated motel.

However, as soon as Y/N unlocked the vehicle, her name was called. Emily, who would be sharing a ride with her, looked back too. Eyebrows raising when she sees one of the witnesses from the last crime scene.

“Y/N, honey,” Emily blinked in astonishment as the nickname left the lady’s mouth. “Could I have a word with you?”

Y/N squeezes her hands into fists, knuckles turning white, “No.”

The stranger takes a step closer, entering Y/N’s personal space and touching her shoulder, “Please. It’s been so long...”

“And whose fault is that?” Y/N hisses, snatching her arm away. She got into the driver’s seat, closing the door harshly.

As she begins to drive, the review mirror shows the woman watching her with longing. It’s too late now, mother.

“Who was that? Are you okay?” Emily asks, concerned. When Y/N speeds over a red light, she knows what the answer is “Hey! Y/N, slow down.” Emily orders, holding on the car seat. “Stop the car, now.”

Y/N shakes her head, feeling her throat close up. The last thing she has control of doing is parking the car by the side of the road messily. She then opens the door and crouches down; with hands on her knees she begins to heaves.

Emily is holding her hair back in the second she reaches her.

The only meal Y/N had that day goes straight out to the grass as her back archers forward. Emily grimaces, caressing her back.

When she feels nothing will come back through her throat anymore, she stands herself up with Emily’s help.

“Easy, easy. Are you dizzy?” Emily questions while leading her to the passenger side of the car. Y/N shakes her head in denial. “Liar.” Emily blurts out, “You can barely stand, Y/N.”

“Thanks for pointing out my misery.” Y/N mumbles, eyes closed because everything seemed to be spinning around. I will not pass out right now. She warned her subconscious.

“Y/N,” Emily calls, giving her a worried glance, “Should we go to an Emergency?”

The girl chokes out a laugh, “Em, I’m fine. It was probably something I ate. Don’t worry.”

Emily narrows her eyes at the road, mentally glaring at Y/N. “Stop lying. You’re terrible at it.”

Silence becomes active in the car after that.

When Emily is parking in the motel, Y/N says in a cornered voice, “It was my mom.”

Emily looks over, her neck almost snapping by the fast movement, “That woman who talked to you?”

Y/N nods, playing with her fingers quietly. Emily frowns at her behaviour. There was something there. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see it.

“You wanna talk about it? I won’t pressure you, but just know that I’m here to listen, okay?” She takes one of her hands and gives a soft squeeze. Y/N looks up and smiles softly, muttering a low thank you.

That night, she told Emily everything. Everything about her past that she just wished to forget, but couldn’t. She told her how her mother treated her and how the drugs made everything worst; she told her how she was a target every single night her mother would come home in a bad mood; she told her she still had marks of each beating, and in parts of her body that had healed, the healing was only physical for she’d never forget.

Emily listened. And not once there was a pity look on her face, one that Y/N kept searching for but couldn’t find. There was just a hint of anger, but most of all, understanding. She was listening.

By the time Y/N stopped talking, it was over midnight.

“Em, you need to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow—”

“I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be truthful, alright?” Y/N closes her mouth, confused. She nodded. “Do you think you can stay in the investigation?”

That made her flinch away from her. Emily quickly realized she had asked the question in the wrong words, “I can do my job, Emily. My traumas never got in the way of that. I told you this because you asked—”

“Y/N, I never told you you couldn’t do your job. I know you can. I’m just worried it might cause you a worst reaction than- than the one that happened tonight.”

Y/N crossed her arms, looking away. Emily waited.

“I can do it. I- I just need her to stay away from me.”

Emily sighs, nodding, “Right. I’ll make sure of that.”

At exactly nine a.m, the BAU delivered a profile. The ofender was a male; organized and was probably cold towards adults but softened towards kids. He had a steady job, a family, probably a child the same age of the missing children, and it was likely to insert himself in the investigation to try to outsmart the police, pretending to be worried about his own. He was between mid thirties to forty-five years old, caucasian, didn’t have a very strongly built body, and probably suffered a trauma not long ago that was the stressor to commit the kidnapping.

They didn’t spoke about the handkerchief. That was something they would watch closely every man to have and how they used it.

“I got five guys that matched your description,” Garcia blurs out, trying to match their fast walking.

“Show us.” Hotch requested.

Once they entered the office, Penelope went straight to her computer. Derek on her heels, watching her work. “What you got, baby girl?”

As Garcia described the suspects, they crossed off three, leaving two.

“Okay, so there’s Mark Cowen and Ben Parks. Both work at the local real state company.” Penelope turned the screen to the rest of the team so they could see the images

“Ben Parks, we interviewed him yesterday,” JJ shares a look with Emily, “He kept on fixing the papers in and pens on the desk, but overall he was pretty calm.”

That was the guy her mom was currently married with.

“Too calm.” Emily crosses her arm, standing straight.

“You think this could be our guy?”

“He had a handkerchief and is always wearing a suit,” Y/N pipes in for the first time in the morning. The whole team just remembered she was there with them. “I realized it this morning. He doesn’t have work today, why wear a suit to get out of the house?”

“Maybe he likes to look formal?”

The door burst open, attracting the agents and doctor attention, “Another kid went missing,” A cop said out of breath.

Everyone rushes out of the office to see every TV on the news channel, warning of another missing kid in the peaceful neighbourhood. The media taking pictures and shoving their mics into the people present at the crime scene. Without the FBI.

“Are you kidding me?!” Derek lashes out.

“Officer Marlow, how did they get this information before us?” Rossi asked sternly.

The officer had his head practically fuming out of anger, “I don’t know, agents. You can be sure this was not my order.”

“Well, now we have to go over there and stop the vultures from ruining all the evidence. Great job!” Y/N spats, walking away with heavy steps.

Hotch was probably going to order for her to take a walk anyway, so she did it before he asked.

Spencer goes after her before Emily can stop it. She sighs frustrated.

“We need to go. They’ll meet us there. There’s one more kid on the line now.”

Spencer sprints after Y/N and when he finally catches up to her, he holds her elbow so she can stop. She turns to him, trying to pry her arm off. He let her go and raised his hands in surrender, “What is going on, Y/N?” He asks, dropping his shoulders and hands. “You’ve been on edge since before we get here. And I saw the way you tensed whenever Charlotte Parks was mentioned,” Y/N opens her mouth and closes it multiple times like a fish. “You can tell me.” He said in a more soft manner, taking a step closer to her.

Y/N pushes her hair back, looking away. “Can we do this while driving to the crime scene?”

Spencer exhales, but agrees. With one condition: he’s driving. Y/N merely rolls her eyes at that. She was a great driver in all situations!

“She’s my mother.” Y/N mutters putting her seatbelt on as he exits the parking lot. Spencer frowns, eyes still focused on the road. “No—she gave birth to me. That’s all. Remember that I told you I lived with my aunt in California?”

Spencer hums a small yes.

“I ran away and that was the only place i ever felt safe. She didn’t look for me. Didn’t call. And I’m sure my aunt told her exactly where I was, Spencer. She just never cared.”

“Why did you ran away?” He asked carefully. He was scared for the answer. Spencer didn’t want it to be what he was assuming.

“Because I got tired of get beaten up for existing.” Y/N says, bitterly. “Sometimes she would come home with a new box of cigarettes and would make sure I-” Her voice breaks, interrupting her rant. She wipes the few tears that fall harshly. Focus on the case. The kids need you. “She made me hate this fucking city.”

Suddenly, Garcia’s voice played in her mind like her favourite song: Ben Parks last location was in a residence for selling.

“You don’t have to carry on if you feel uncomfortable—”

“Turn left!” Spencer looks at her and quickly goes back to the road.

“What?!”

“Turn left on the next street. This one. Right now right now right now!”

The tires screech against the sidewalk as the Doctor turns a narrow left. Y/N helds onto the seat for dear life.

“Keep going straight. At the third street you turn right.”

“Mind telling where we’re going, Y/L/N?” He only called her by her last name when he was being serious. And she could see he was annoyed.

Y/N bit her lip, almost drawing blood. “You know what Garcia said about a property to sell, a little over the lake?” Spencer nods, paying attention to the avenue but listening closely. “I asked her to search a little bit through it. It hasn’t be sold for more than three years, Spence. A house being sold for a great price in that neighborhood? Why is it still available?”

She could practically see the engines in his brain turning. “You think that’s where the kids are being kept.” It wasn’t a question, he knew she was sure by the certainty in her voice.

“Call Hotch.” It was all he said before parking in the sidewalk.

Everything was covered with snow, you could barely see a spot to step where it wasn’t white. The lake, a few metters away from them, was completely frozen.

Y/N hanged up after being yelled at by Garcia for leaving like that. Hotch was sending reinforcements. Although they weren’t one hundred percent sure, they couldn’t go in in a place where the victims were being held with possible killer that could come back at any moment.

“What are you doing?” Spencer hisses, catching her walking further as he closed the car door. Y/N pointed at the house. It was a good view to wake up to: mountains and full of trees. The perfect spot for reserved couples. Or for a kidnapper that didn’t wish to attract attention. “I can see that,” He walked towards Y/N, wrapping the FBI jacket over her shoulders. “Zip up, it’s too cold. You’re not thinking about going over there, are you?”

“Just survey the area,” She replies, inserting her arms on the jacket and zipping up as she was told to. “Can you cover for me?”

Spencer crossed his arms, “No. We’re waiting.”

“Great. The kids have been waiting for three days to be at their homes safe. How about making them be in danger for longer?”

“They’ll be here, Y/N.” He eyes his wristwatch, “In about... Fifteen minutes. Traffic here is low.”

Y/N rolls her eyes.

There was moment of comfortable silence between them as they watched the mountains. Until Spencer breaks it.

“You think she didn’t change, right?”

Y/N is surprised by the question.

“What do you mean?”

He exhales slowly, locking eyes with her, “Do you think your—that woman is still the same way she was before?”

“Does it matter?”

That seemed to satisfy him. “No, it doesn’t. I was just wondering.”

Y/N buried her hands in the jacket, a foolish attempt to warm them up. She kicked a rock distractedly, “You were wondering if I’d consider having her back in my life after everything... If she showed remorse now.”

“You’re getting good at analysing behaviour.”

“I’m good at reading you, not any behaviour.”

They shared timid smiles.

“To answer your question, I wouldn't. I never even forgave her after all those years... I'm not a person to forgive and forget, I guess.” Y/N shares, smashing snow between her fingers absentmindedly. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Reid’s phone goes off before he could reply to her question, interrupting their conversation. He picks up after a sigh, “Hey, Morgan... Ben Parks? So we were right... Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.” Upon hanging up, Spencer turns around to tell Y/N the news that they’ve got enough proof to arrest Ben Parks. What he sees, however, makes his throat dry.

Y/N was already half away across the river.

He yelled her name but it was no use, she was too far gone. A minute later his cellphone vibrated with a message. “Cover for me :)”

He scoffed in disbelief.

“Please, be careful. They found a match of Ben Parks’ DNA in the handkerchief of the first crime scene. He got away.” He quickly types and sends.

Not even a minute later, she replies.

“Ok.”

Y/N managed to take the kids to safety. However, it wasn’t that easy to find them inside the house. They were under a hidden basement; the opening right under the carpet.

As the twelve years old were lead towards their parents on the other side of the lake by Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid, a tense silence welcomed the team. Y/N still hasn’t left the house, and they were informed a little boy was still inside.

“Where the hell is she?” Derek pressed the ear-in forcefully, as if that would make the girl answer.

“Rossi? Any eyes on Y/N?” Emily asked through her ear-in.

“Not yet—”

“Mr. Parks. Drop the weapon.”

“Everyone, stay put.”

That was the last both heard before things the line went silent again. Emily shared a worried glance with Derek, as Spencer did with JJ.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” JJ gave her best friend a soft squeeze on his shoulder

“He’s inside with them, JJ, what if—”

“Drop your fucking gun or I’ll kill them!”

The scene unfolding was dreadful. Ben Parks was pointing a gun at the back of Y/N’s head, while Y/N held a boy with swollen face and red eyes in front of her, making sure she covered the aim of the gun from the kid.

“You’re making the wrong choice, Ben.” Hotch warns, studying any loophole in his posture so he or his team could shoot. “We can do this peacefully.”

“You took my kid from me— You-- you, took her away! Where is the fucking peace on that, huh?” In a spit of rage, he yanked Y/N's arm back, causing her to let go of the boy against her will.

Ben Parks had lost his daughter when she was five years old. She was kidnapped and a ransom was required. Unfortunately, the girl was already dead by the time she was found. He was never the same after this. His marriage broke down and his behaviour changed completely.

That was the stressor.

“Go!” She said to him. His big amber eyes watched her horrified. But, JJ picked him up and rushed him behind her.

The unsub laughed in mockery. Y/N flinched at the close sound to her ear. “You know... When your mother told me about you I'd never guess you would become a cop. That fragile little girl...” She almost vomited when he sniffed on her neck. That was disgusting.

And to think her mother married someone like that. Had a kid too. That poor boy. She saw it in his eyes when he hesitated to go that he was way different than his parents.

“Fragile?” She whispers back, taunting him.

The issue with reckless people was that they never thought about the consequences their actions would bring.

Now, Y/N couldn't care less.

“Guys, it's cracking.” Emily croaks out. JJ follows her eyes and immediately understands. The ice had cracks written in its surface like a delicate drawing. One wrong step, and everything would swim in freezing water.

“We have to take her out of there.” Spencer is stopped by Derek, that pushes him back “Derek!”

“You stay here.”

“Ben!” Rossi yells, also realizing what was happening. “Let her go, so we can talk.”

“The only thing I'm going to be letting go is a bullet through her pretty little brain, Agent Rossi.” Ben replied calmly. It was terrifying to watch someone change behaviour so fast. In less than three minutes the guy would me fuming, and then, he would laugh and calm down instantly.

“You're a coward.” Y/N blurts out.

There's a pause.

“Excuse me?”

“You-are-a-coward.” She repeats, pausing in between every word.

“You've reached your limit, bitch.”

His finger press begin to press against the trigger, but in a millisecond, Y/N manages to step on the ground with as much force as she can get. Hitting his stomach with her elbow and punching his jaw as she throws herself away.

The last thing she hears is her name being called, and then, she feels the ice break.

➶ ➷

sources I used:

- criminal minds (obviously)

- these three sites; 1 2 3

[x-reader-theater]

A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts

Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader

Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser

Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.

Word Count: 7520 words

A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes​ . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.

"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream

"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again." 

"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod. 

"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say. 

She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!" 

You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes. 

"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you. 

"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up. 

The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs. 

You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms. 

"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more. 

It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well. 

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." –Hamlet

You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now. 

You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed. 

You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man. 

"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him. 

When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips. 

"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably. 

He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his. 

"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book. 

"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod. 

"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."

"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave. 

You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."

"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited. 

You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."

"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin. 

"Really? When was that?" you ask. 

"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly. 

You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."

He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."

You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."

"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile. 

"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?" 

"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile. 

"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears. 

"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin. 

"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods. 

"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-" 

Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly. 

"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding. 

"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim. 

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]." 

You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number. 

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure

You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you. 

"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod. 

"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."

"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around." 

You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around. 

"How did you know to do that?" you ask. 

He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding. 

"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."

Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."

"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."

You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm. 

You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!" 

He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?" 

You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone. 

"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow. 

He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe. 

"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you. 

You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card. 

You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is. 

"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."

"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones. 

Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence. 

"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."

You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck." 

He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.

"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet

You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you. 

"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago. 

"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods. 

"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says. 

"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.

"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?" 

Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod. 

"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods. 

He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?" 

You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."

"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways. 

You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile.  He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.

"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."

Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin. 

"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door. 

"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet

You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in." 

The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you. 

You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front. 

"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh. 

You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?" 

Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."

You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up. 

Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?" 

You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."

Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him. 

"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh. 

"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."

The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.

You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him. 

"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona

It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading. 

It's nice. 

"If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night

"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park. 

"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace. 

Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands. 

"Spencer what-" 

"Shh!" 

You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs. 

You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you. 

In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful. 

"What is this?" you ask, breathless. 

He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."

You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."

Spencer frowns. "Huh?" 

"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides. 

"Las Vegas," he says and you smile. 

"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly. 

"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face. 

You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck. 

When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice. 

"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice

You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant. 

"[Y/N]!" 

You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again. 

You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter. 

"What's wrong?" he asks plainly. 

"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud." 

Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains. 

You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!" 

Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."

You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman." 

Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs. 

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging. 

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."

Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."

Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!" 

Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant. 

"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet

"Mr. [L/N]?" 

You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!" 

"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact. 

You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?" 

Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week. 

"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page. 

You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"

"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that. 

"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-" 

But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!" 

You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?" 

"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet. 

You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."

Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands. 

"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet

That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place. 

"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed. 

"Huh?" 

"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?" 

"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."

You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?" 

You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking. 

Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.

"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."

You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…" 

Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you. 

"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet

"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal. 

He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."

"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."

"But what about the people we can't save?" 

You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."

Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy. 

"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing

You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already. 

But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms. 

"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis

"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls. 

He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?" 

You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss. 

He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."

Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?" 

"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then." 

"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her." 

Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy. 

"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout. 

"Love you too!" he shouts back. 

"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream

It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests. 

Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk. 

After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone. 

"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver. 

"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone. 

"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-" 

"Someone's shooting up the school." 

Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open. 

"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?" 

You go to answer, but the words die in your throat. 

"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line. 

Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face. 

"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away. 

He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!" 

You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…" 

"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops. 

"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name. 

Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."

You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency. 

After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line. 

You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?" 

"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks. 

"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod. 

"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word. 

"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."

You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip. 

You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk. 

You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love. 

You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening. 

You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed. 

"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest. 

"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt." 

Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!" 

Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."

Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?" 

You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."

Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it. 

"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."

You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart." 

"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former. 

Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room. 

Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot. 

You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder. 

You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"

You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!" 

"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know." 

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing

"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!" 

Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws." 

You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not. 

"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit. 

You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after. 

You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her. 

When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!" 

"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."

She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?" 

Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you." 

She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him. 

"And I love him," you reply. 

"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night

[harrypotterwholock]

A doctor's visit

Summary:

The reader visits Dr. Watsons's practice because of her chronic headache. However, when the doctor draws her blood, he finds out about her self harm and confronts her about it.

Trigger Warning:

Implied Self-harm, implied suicide

I hadn't seen a doctor in a long time, but having had a headache almost every day for a month, I got myself to see one.

After I no longer had a general practitioner, I opened the phone book and looked for a practice. The first entry immediately appealed to me: Dr John Watson, a general practitioner in Westminster. So I called right away and made an appointment for the next day.

The reason for my doctor phobia was my self-harm, which always raised uncomfortable questions during examinations. But since the appointment was all about my head, I wasn't too worried about this possibility.

~~~

I woke up unusually early on the day of the appointment, probably because of the worries about a possible confrontation with the doctor. Despite the sweltering heat, I put on long sleeves to avoid any inquiries. After breakfast, I got ready and went to the next subway station. As always, people looked at me crookedly because I was so inappropriately dressed. When I sat down on a bench next to the track to wait, a small child pointed to me and said to his mother:

"Mommy, why is the woman dressed in such strange clothes, isn't it too hot for long clothes?" The mother was ashamed and pulled her child away from me, but I smiled at the girl.

The subway finally came, and after 10 minutes I had already reached my destination.

The practice was a short walk from the station. At the reception, I registered with a nice doctor's assistant.

"Hello Ms. y / n, I need your insurance card, please."

"Yes, of course, just a moment."

I gave her the card and then went into the waiting room.

When I had just got myself a newspaper to read, a sympathetic doctor opened the waiting room and called me up.

"Hello Mrs. y / l / n, please come with me. My name is Dr Watson. “, he greeted me with a smile.

The treatment room was designed in light colours and was very inviting, thanks to several colourful paintings on the walls. I took a seat across from Dr Watson and waited while he read through my files.

“I see you come to us with a chronic headache, Ms. y / l / n. How long exactly have you had it?"

“For about a month. I thought it was just a bit of a migraine because I have a bit of stress at work at the moment, but now that they haven't left for so long, I fear that it could be something worse "

"I understand. I would like to check you for muscle tension first if that's okay. "

I nodded, and Dr Watson got up and began carefully examining my shoulders and neck.

“It all looks good, and there doesn't seem to be any nerve damage. I think your headache is a stress reaction, as you suspected, but I would still like to draw your blood to make sure there is no organic cause. "

I froze and felt hot and cold at the same time.

“Are you sure that is necessary? I thought you were pretty sure that it was just the stress. "

Dr Watson looked at me sympathetically.

“It would only be for their own good. And don't worry about the needle, you won't feel any of it, I promise you. "

Without any other choice, I nodded and first rolled up my right sleeve to avoid further conversations as much as possible.

"Ah, a leftie, I see," he said, winking at me.

I nodded in agony and smiled. I knew that the veins in general, and especially on my right arm, were bad and often didn't give any blood.

Dr Watson gave me another encouraging smile and began disinfecting my arm.

Then he started inserting the needle, but no blood came out.

“I see you have rolling veins. I think we'll have to try again on your other arm", he said.

Fearfully, I rolled up my left sleeve while he looked for more materials with his back to me.

Tortured, I looked away from my arm and let him have it. When he turned back to me and sat down to draw my blood, he breathed in sharply and looked questioningly into my eyes. When I didn't reply, he said nothing and began to draw blood from my only good vein.

After he was done, he said to me:

"Good Ms. y / l / n, please have a seat, I'll take this over to the laboratory quickly, and then I'll be right back with you."

I sat shaking and tried to calm my breathing. I knew what was in store for me. Countless doctors had referred me to various places, but nothing had worked. I was hopeless.

Dr Watson came back, eyed me worriedly, and sat across from me.

“Ms. y / l / n, you know as well as I do that I can't ignore the scars on your arm. I would disregard my duty of care. Am I right to believe that you inflicted these injuries on yourself? "

"You are right, Dr Watson. I understand you are concerned, but so many doctors before you have tried to help me, and nothing has worked. Please only treat my headache and let me sort out my problems myself. "

"I understand. But just because you've been disappointed in the past doesn't mean nobody can help you. Please let me try. Is this behaviour also related to the stress you mentioned? "

“No, I've had that for a long time. I really appreciate your efforts Dr Watson, but I can't be helped anymore. "

This statement seemed to alarm the doctor because he immediately sat up and leaned forward to me.

“Ms. y / l / n, it is really important that you are honest with me now. Are you thinking about or are you going to kill yourself? "

He looked at me worriedly and seemed extremely agitated. I had hit a sore nerve with my testimony, and it hadn't hit far from the truth.

"No, no, Dr Watson. Really, you shouldn't worry about me. I have to go anyway, I still have work to do. "

I was about to get up when Dr Watson jumped up and pushed me back into my chair by my shoulder.

"No, stay here!" He exclaimed desperately.

“I can't just let you go like this. Who knows what you… ”He cleared his throat.

“You know, a few months ago I lost my best friend. He also killed himself. I don't want the same thing to happen to you. You must have someone to look after you. Don't do this to them. Please do not."

"I'm sorry, Dr Watson, I didn't know that. But I'm sticking to it. I have been to so many treatments, and they have never done any good. I just simply can not carry on anymore."

“Okay y / f / n, listen to me. I can call you y / f / n, right? I'm John, by the way. ” He smiled desperately at me.

“I understand you don't want to be forcibly brought in again, but I can't let you go home in this condition. I will now call an ambulance that will take you to the nearest psychiatric hospital. "

I wriggled out of his grasp.

“No, don't do this to me, please. It's horrible there, that only makes it worse! "

He looked at me thoughtfully.

"All right then. For the rest of the day, all I had to do was paperwork. What do you think if you come to my house, where I can make sure you don't harm yourself. But then you also have to tell me about your problems. I am sure that I can still help you. "

I considered his offer. It was definitely better than being brought in again.

"Good, I'm with you. Definitely better than ending up in a psychiatric hospital again. "

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Excellent! Here's your coat, come with me. "

He led me out of the treatment room, always careful to hold me back in case I should run away.

“Jessica, I still have work to do. Please lock up afterwards when you go. "

We left the practice and John led me to his car in which we drove to his apartment.

[builder051]

Whumpmas in July 2022 Day 1: (Re)introduce Yourself

Hey, it's your good and long standing friend Laur. I hopped on this site in 2017, and I've been doing weekly open hours (Starbucks Sunday) and holiday card giveaways for the solid several years I've had my feet on the ground. Even though I'm autistic and have nightmarish social skills in real life, I pride myself on being open and friendly online, as well as striking a balance between writing what I want to write and writing what I know my same-interest peers will want to read.

A bio in bullets:

Barely hanging onto my 20s

College grad +

Professional writer--former engineering tech writer and published fiction author

Also independent artist/art teacher and therapist for young ones (usually those who flourish using unconventional methods/tools.)

male, queer, ace. In a committed relationship. Flags are confusing. Rainbow is fine.

Chronically ill/disabled. I'm cool with talking about most of my Dx's, and my blog for med talk is @the-guy-in-the-chair. Most relevant to daily life are total gastroparesis (J fed, G drained, port hydrated, etc.), severe chronic migraine disorder, and mobility issues leading to use of various mobility devices. Also, fyi, autistic, immunocompromised (IVIG dependent), BPII diagnosis.

What I write on Tumblr:

(Hurt/Comfort -> sickfic ->emeto) was the first plane I entered upon, using both OCs and fanfic characters (MCU and others). Now I run in pretty much every direction, though H/C, angst, emeto, sickfic, flashback, mental health, night terror, previous/current trauma, other dark stuff almost always shows up. MCU is pretty much the only fandom. My OCs have stalled out.

What I write professionally:

I have a novel; it's available on Amazon. Battle of Troy by L. L. Cupp.

It's a YA level 400ish pager coming-of-age novel bringing together the emergence of queer, disabled, and independent identities in a boy raised in a sheltered, conservative family. At this moment, his crises are writing his life story. Read to see Troy take the pen back into his own hand.

I also write on Kindle Vella. I have 5 stories/collections available now, and I expect more to come. Search for me, L. L. Cupp, on Kindle Vella's website or app.

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

[transsexualhamlet]

asmr i psychoanalyze my favorite war criminal, aka calling out norman the essay

basically all of my thoughts on norman on one callout post because i care him (both manga and anime are discussed)

LINK TO RAY PSYCHOANALYSIS:  https://chaoticgaymess.tumblr.com/post/646749875570196480/ray-81194-the-long-explanation 

this is going to be ungodly long so here’s a keep reading, essay below the cut

((tw for suicidal ideation and self harm, brief discussion of eating disorders))

Disclaimer: no shipping is included here this is just about norman also they’re kids who call each other siblings

Thoughts: So you may be thinking, Rowan, why do you yell about the colorless war criminal so often? Well the answer lies in your honor the court hates to see a girlboss winning. Norman is a girlboss :) Yes norman is a tiny twink who can't lift a milk jug. And he is a girlboss :) Obviously I don't condone, um, eugenics and all, but that's not the point the point is that he satisfies my need for more characters like Levi motherfucking Calder from Unwind because I’m apparently an edgy 13 year old. Also all of his problems are violently things I can fix and I keep him around as a pet project because someone needs to give him a hug and slap him on the face

I diagnose him with things: 

-pisces man :pensive:

-is he albino? Not literally. Is his skin so pale he would catch fire if he went outside at noon? Yes.

-autism: Yes I’m aware that calling him autistic makes him, problematic rep by perpetuating the autism unfeeling savant stereotype whatever but have you considered i’m autistic and I’m projecting also he’s L with standards? Anyway traits of AuTism he has: hyper   fixation, canonically breaks and fixes things over and over because like ofc he does, doesn’t understand Emotion, hyperaware of body language at the same time as it all somehow flying over his head, low empathy, sensory experiences™, min maxed in certain areas, and I don’t think he’s got social interaction quite right? There’s something off about it

-gifted kid (derogatory) This is self explanatory but basically him being the smartest and the best in a competitive environment caused most of his issues, such as the perfectionism, the need to succeed, the lack of self esteem and ridiculously high expectations on himself, giving himself no breaks or time to relax, the “i must be productive with every second of my day or i will die” deal, the “peaked at 11” thing, the way in which he goes through life like there’s going to be a fucking test on it

-Eldest Daughter™ lmao. Norman’s always had to be mature, he’s always had to be the best, he’s always had to do the things Ray got out of bc he’s a snitch and Emma got out of because Isabella likes her. Norman gets respect from Isabella only if he excels, and her bar for him is astronomical. He doesn’t have the Mommy Issues that Ray has, but it’s because for him Isabella basically just reflected his expectations on himself, whereas with Ray it was more personal.

-low empathy (part of the autism thing): this one needs more explanation, but it’s not a bad thing in and of itself. Cognitive empathy is a thing and he can use it, but he does not instinctively understand other people’s emotions, or even recognize them properly, especially when the person is not like himself. This is obvious in Emma. Man has no fucking clue what’s going on in her head or why she does what she does, but he can predict what she will do in any given situation very well. He could understand the suicide attempt from ray he predicted more because Ray’s an easier equation to solve, and someone who’s more similar to him. I know he gets it because, well, motherfucker’s just as self desctructive as him, just in a more dignified manner.

-he’s got some sort of chronic illness. This is also me projecting and a headcanon but he’s got something going on, even before lambda pumped him full of growth hormones or whatever which they maybe should have Not Done but oh well. (I assume this just didn’t happen in the anime, since he’s still so fucking short) But he's So weak. He passed out when it was too hot. He passed out when it was too cold. He can’t open a pickle jar. His skin is too pale and he’s skinny af. He’s much more prone to sickness and probably has asthma too? But in the case that he did actually have something going on, I don’t think grace field would see the need to treat it, if it didn’t impact the quality of his meat? Isabella’s probably just “you have chronic pain and you get migraines? Great, take some tylenol and do some calculus.” Can’t say that probably helped anything.

personality type: ISTJ

Basically, he’s the most boring personality type to exist, and personally as an enfp i do not respect him. But basically this means he’s a fucking nerd that gets his projects done for school the day they’re assigned, is probably the president of the Anime Student Council™, and could probably get away with premeditated murder (ok actual istjs this is a joke don’t skin me)

The only trait that norman doesn’t have on the istj thing is telling the truth. Yeah, he values the truth, but like, that doesn’t apply to him, clearly. Bitch is a notorious liar.

The only other personality type he has any similarity with is intj, which is the same except it’s more rare and a purple theme instead of a blue theme. Sadly, that’s not him though, because although he can care more about some kinds of philosophy overall this isn’t the case and ray already occupies this personality type tbh. 

strengths and weaknesses: This one’s kind of obvious, but he is aside from the crazy insane intelligence good at planning. Extremely good at planning. He can predict any outcome and figure out how to prevent it, using all his resources. For example he’s physically weak and someone could literally just walk up and stab him, but it doesn’t impede his progress on his goals because he’s surrounded himself with strong, mentally inferior people who would die for him in a heartbeat. He never gets stuck in some “everything is shit and i can’t do anything” deal like Emma and Ray do, he always works through it and has confidence in his abilities (in as much as he will solve the problem or die™. Weaknesses other than his twink body include his Low Wisdom score. It’s funny how he’s often associated with an owl, the mans is 14. He thinks he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t. Plus obviously his fundamental misunderstanding of so much of everything going on around him, the fact that he lies not just to the world but himself, his refusal to take care of himself and his incredible cowardice. His achilles heel is being forced to, actually confront his actions.

what he likes about himself: He does pride himself on his mental abilities, and his judgement, which in his opinion is the only correct opinion and the only correct way. In the past, he likes being seen as a leader, he likes being responsible for other people. He likes his ability to manipulate and lie, because he sees it as an asset, and I honestly think he enjoys being william minerva more than he enjoys being Norman. He prides himself on his unhealthy expectations and the fact that he is able to meet them. Honestly, he does think he’s better than everyone else, mentally, though it’s humbled by his self hatred. Cursed thought: If Norman had self esteem he would be light yagami. 

what he doesn’t like about himself/insecurities: Oh god, nearly everything. His appearance, his status, his superiority, his physical inability, his own mess of a mind, also have I mentioned his appearance. He’s obsessed with self control. He wants everything he sees wrong with himself gone. And I understand why having control of everything is necessary and appealing, everything for him has always been rigid and planned out from moment one, he was even more regulated in lambda, and though he desperately wants to Not Be Food, he has no idea what to do with the chains now that he’s broken out of them. So he just wraps them around himself. Regulates to an unhealthy degree when he sleeps, what he eats, when he actually takes even minimal care of his own problems, what he looks like, how much of himself he lets show, the expressions on his face, the literal thoughts inside his own head he will shut down if they are not Correct. It’s literal self harm. Norman, please stop it.

motivations/goals in life/general philosophy: To be honest, I’m not sure he knows what he wants. He sure thinks he does, he could sure give you a memorized answer, but it means nothing. He wants to excel. He wants Emma to be happy. He wants to be perfect and for that to make everything perfect. But he doesn’t realize everything he’s working towards will do pretty much the opposite of that. He’s a crippling perfectionist, and pretty much everything he does is motivated by his fear of failing. He picks the certain path, he doesn’t wait for anyone else, he doesn’t care if it’s not nice. Emma foils that a most of the time because he cares about her, but it can only go so far, especially after he’s had so much time without her to develop a Complex. His philosophy is very contradictory, basically the tokyo ghoul “everything bad that happens to you stems from a lack of ability”. All of his problems are his fault. All the world’s problems are his to fix. If he can’t fix them, it’s his fault, it’s because he wasn’t strong enough, and not being perfect condemns someone forever, including himself.

how he’s perceived by others vs how he actually is: In most people there wouldn’t truly be much of a difference, but with Norman things are different, because, well, most of his personality in grace field is a put on, as well as the tough guy dictator thing he radiates after lambda. How he appears to someone is determined by the context of their meeting- the kids at grace field see him as a nerdy, weakish, pretty boring kid who is really caring and kind. The researchers at lambda see an obedient, beaten down and perfectionistic boy. The lambda kids see him as an infallible leader, ruthless and genius, a good man who knows what’s right. But in truth none of that is him. It’s a fucking chess game to him, putting on different faces, lying and pretending and treating everyone differently. In truth? He’s a fucking coward. He’s scared out of his mind and he’s tired and he can’t take pain, he’s obsessed with reaching some goal he deems is necessary that in the end is going to be his death because he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his actions. He’s taken on the role of someone evil, though deep down he’s not, he feels it’s easier to live that way because it strips him of his conscience. 

interpersonal relationships: In general, Norman sees all relationships in a pretty dim light. He sees everyone as black and white, for the most part, and other people make no sense to him intuitively, he has to figure them out like a puzzle. He’s manipulative and not particularly kind, but he follows all societal expectations to a T, overly focused on his appearance and placing the person he’s interacting with into a Category™. So he can be truly kind, to people he feels deserve it, to people who he values and doesn’t see flaws in. He gets incredibly attached to people he loves, protective, though he often doesn’t take their own feelings on the matter into consideration, and he’s ruthless with anyone who he deems a bad person. With people he understands and relates to, though, things can be different. If he sees someone as like himself, he will drop all the social interaction police bullshit and cut to the chase of whatever he wants or needs from them, and he’s not very forgiving in any manner, if he thinks what someone did is actually bad.

Emma: Norman obviously cares a lot about Emma, and honestly views her as better than anyone else. He realizes her moral integrity and all of the things she has and he doesn’t, and admires it. Because of his black and white view, Emma is like an angel to him. She couldn’t do anything wrong if she tried. But he comes to treat her as something to be protected instead of respected, and although he realizes she wouldn’t like what he’s doing, he fundamentally cannot empathize with her and doesn’t try to understand her. Their personalities are very literally opposite. Norman really needs to fucking listen to her. And Emma needs to understand that Norman doesn’t have a single ounce of empathy and you really do need to spell it out for him. Emma can only convince him when she has logical reasons for her actions, which she, doesn’t often have. And Emma gave Norman too much slack, because she didn’t see past the surface, and Ray never wanted to warn her, even though he knew the dude was showing a bunch of red flags, because you know. It was kind of an unspoken deal between them. (on ray’s part)

Ray: His relationship with Ray is a lot more complicated than with Emma. He understands Ray, where he doesn’t understand Emma, and he can see right through anything Ray does. And this makes things really tense between them, because Ray doesn’t, take kindly to being psychoanalyzed. If someone perceives him he will deck them and Norman is just there silently perceiving him at all times when Emma doesn’t see it. They are both constantly in competition with each other, but they care about each other a lot, though it’s kind of in a derogatory way. They both recognize each other as fundamentally fucked up, and silently agree never to bring it up with Emma. They’re nice to each other when she’s around, but all pretenses disappear when she’s gone. Ray is always frustrated with Norman, because Norman’s never been intimidated by him, and though he tries his best not to be vulnerable around him, Norman can always see through it, whereas Ray can’t crack Norman’s fake fucking smile no matter what he does. Norman will always take Emma’s side, and doesn’t see Ray as a good person at all, but he still understands and can excuse him, he takes measures to be… worse than Ray, which is better in his mind, because it’s rational, and ‘not selfish’.

Isabella: She has always had ridiculously high expectations for Norman, and treats him kind of harshly compared to the others. Bitch has heat stroke and Isabella’s first question is a calculus problem instead of like, “are you ok”. She knows he doesn’t complain about anything ever and she doesn’t stop him from being Terrible to himself, because it makes her job easier. They want smart kids, not mentally adjusted kids. She does really care for all of them, but she basically overrides it, she gives them what they want, not what they need, lets them be exactly what they’re making themselves. Isabella is distant with Ray but gives him anything he wants, she’s close and super nice with Emma, but Norman is… it’s weird. Isabella is proud of him because he meets her astronomically high bar. But at the same time, Norman never really cared for her that much and has never pretended to. Once they discover The Thing, though, he has a revelation, and it doesn’t take him long to switch his entire perspective about her. He’s pretty much like. Oh. She’s like me. That explains it, time to treat her like I treat myself: fucking brutally. Passive aggressive as hell. The kind of energy the :) emoticon at the end of an email gives. He does like just go “yeah we should kill her” at one point, which. You know, ok. When he got shipped out it was hhhh really interesting because Isabella knew full well he knew he was walking to his death and Norman was like “are you Truly Happy?” and just went :) and she was like h u h and tried to get him to talk while they were walking there because she feels Bad about it and he just. Did not. He didn’t say a single word just kind of smiled menacingly at her and I think it was half a sort of rebellion and half because he viewed her as similar to himself and therefore felt no need to put up any front with her, no words were necessary for him to impart exactly how he felt about it

Lambda kids: His relationship with the lambda kids is weird and bittersweet. I think he really truly does care about them, they were in a similar situation to his and he wants them to get what they want. However it is not a healthy or beneficial relationship, they see him as a god and don’t realize that he’s killing himself to give them what they want, he’s basically adopted them when out of anyone norman’s the one that should least be in charge of kids. I think he’s honestly younger than them but I’m not sure if they even know. He acts like their fucking mom, and that’s from what he thinks mothers are like… like isabella?? Giving them what they want, not what they need, lying to them, showing a front, caring deeply for them but at the same time using them for his own ends. And it’s not helpful for him. He thinks he knows what they need, but what he’s doing is what they want. What they need is therapy,(and so does norman), and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with using them as weapons because they love him. It makes him feel good, to be seen as perfect, to have people who don’t know how weak he really is. But it’s only making him worse, and he’s enabling everything the lambda kids are doing wrong as well. They need like, Yuugo and Lucas. Some actual adults who are actually wise and have the ability and the knowledge to take care of them and understand their mental problems and maybe actually address them. And actually be nice to them. But um sadly. 

what he’s doing wrong: It’s pretty obvious, but… Norman, you maybe *shouldn’t* commit genocide? You’re not helping emma, you’re not making anything better. You’re not helping the lambda kids, you’re enabling them. You’re not helping your friends from grace field, you’re ignoring what they want. You’re not helping the world, you’re eradicating an entire race from the face of the earth and murdering the poor for the crimes of the fucking 1%. You’re not being a martyr, you’re a selfish piece of shit liar you little coward, you just want an easy way out and you want to die on your bloody fucking hill instead of admitting you’re wrong. Grow up, cringe little man.

why he went wrong: I think most of the reason this happened was the way he was raised combined with the kind of person he is. Norman would have turned out fine, if there has been good adults in his life who actually cared about his well being. Instead he got people who just wanted to control him and make him what they needed, and family who largely didn’t realize there was anything wrong. Ray being an ass to him most of forever probably didn’t help but well, that’s just Ray. Even then, he would have managed alright if he escaped with the rest of the kids because he would never have been separated from the experiences that caused the rest of them to realize demons weren’t all evil. In lambda he didn’t have anyone supporting him or telling him when things went too far, so he fell into relying on himself alone, pushing himself further with absolutely no limits. All he saw was enemies and allies, and things got stratified. He never had a lucas or a yuugo or mujika when he would have needed it, instead he found children who wanted him to be in charge and a world that made it so he had to be. Everything was an echo chamber for his worst thoughts, so they just became more and more dominant.

what he needs: To put it simply, he needs Emma and Ray to cut to the chase and slap him across the face and make him take care of himself. He needs to be forced to see everything for what it really is- this edgy 14 year old committing atrocities to feel better about himself? He needs to be told that what he’s doing is irrational, because in reality, it is. There are better solutions that he’s ignoring, both to his own suffering and the demons, and the way he’s going now no one will truly be happy because of it, that there is no requirement that things be perfect and this bullshit doesn’t make him stronger. He needs someone responsible to take the fucking dagger out of his hands. He also needs someone to babysit him and make him go to bed at a reasonable time.

i describe his personality through songs on my spotify playlist for him:

-outrunning karma by alec benjamin: this one super applies because it calls him out for making shitty decisions, being manipulative and a liar, and having blood on his hands in a very calm and subdued manner, that he knows this is wrong and yet he chooses to keep running faster and faster towards destruction, that he means to escape it through death

-empty by boyinaband and jaiden: yes this is a song about anorexia yes it also applies to norman i’m not saying norman literally has an eating disorder (but honestly it wouldn’t be far out of character if he did) but metaphorically this applies to his method of ignoring his needs, both emotional and physical, in favor of seeming in control 

-toxic thoughts by faith marie: this one speaks to his gifted kid trauma. Man’s got perfectionism running his entire soul. He’s terrified of failing, because he’s always been at the very top, he’ll beat himself up over any miniscule mistake and forces himself to keep at bad habits that keep him Productive, but he won’t ask for help no matter how much he’s suffering because that would be failing, he fights with his mind, this song basically tells him “yeah i feel you but you need to stop that”

-no time to die by billie eilish: ignore the romantic overtones but this is emma and norman, emma who trusted norman and was lied to, betrayed, for norman’s greater good, and norman who refuses to feel or hurt because of it, who refuses to apologize or see himself as wrong, pushes forward because he’s going to Pass Away

-achilles come down by gang of youths: hhhhh it's like. His vibe. Obviously you can disregard the lifestyle specific shit but it's. It's achilles come down you have to understand it’s like the same deal as friend, please just like french and longer

-friend, please by 21 pilots: i feel like i don't have to explain this one but it’s more to the manga (not the anime where he kind of figures out he done did wrong by himself instead of committing unforgivable sins and still going yeah this is valid before emma is like holy fuck). He is like sorry emma I cannot fix anything I’m going to die :) *coughs blood* and emma going like stop it stop it stop it fuck you see you fucked up and i forgive you just stop don’t walk away while he’s like “no<3”

why im a repressed little norman kinnie even tho he’s my exact opposite: I don’t generally kin ppl like norman, honestly he’s an infj I have no clue how it happened but I’m pretty sure it’s because of my intense desire to project onto a little man who cannot lift a milk jug and has chronic pain and decides you know what I AM tired of being nice i DO wanna go apeshit. Also he’s a twink. A little bastard. He’s a terrible person and I go mood every time he does anything. I said mood when he fell out of a tree. Don’t know what this says about me, I swear I wouldn’t commit no genocide. He’s like the inverse of Yoichi Saotome, and somehow i kin him too. Damn.

Miscellaneous headcanons:

-man’s SO attached to his william minerva cloak. He’s a wispy little bitch, you know he’s wearing that thing inside the house, he’s fucking cold. It also makes him Look Important he can retreat into it like an emo middle schooler with an oversized sweatshirt

-although you could probably get Mad street cred from having two whole brands you know he’s not gonna whip it out and show off his lambda thing he’s incredibly self conscious and his chest hasn’t seen the sun in years

-norman’s got MAD laundry skills to be able to wear like, all white all the time while constantly murdering people. I think he’s the only one who knows to do the laundry. And Ray is the only one who knows how to cook.

-but even then there’s gotta still be a few questionable stains on that thing, but if anyone asks he’s like “ketchup” “I’ve literally never seen you eat anything with that much color” “ketchup :)” *coughs blood*

-he’s probably thought “well i have not literally coughed blood yet today so I am not legally obligated to take care of myself”

-He probably adopted much of his current personality from taking on the persona of william minerva. I’m calling him out for being like me, he’s a blank motherfucker, he absorbs personality traits from characters he plays! He’s just not in theatre so it’s a bit more intense!

-the first time he sees barbara Eating Demon Meat he kinda stares and goes oh cool! not for me and violently exits the room. Like it's hilarious bc he thinks that's really gross on a moral level though he understands why she would do it 

-Which is even funnier bc I’m not sure about the canon on this but there was That Chapter Cover that one time that kinda seemed to imply norman eating demon meat which i absolutely latched onto because I’m terrible. He was just politely eating it. With a knife and fork like why dude. As to a possible reason for him doing that I can come up with, of course barbara does it out of spite, but man we don’t know the properties, if it had some sort of painkilling aspect to it or it was like, caffeine, you know he would, but he would Definitely not talk about it

-I kinda disagree with what the anime did in episode eight? It was good I liked it and the imagery was fantastic but also have you considered Norman could not kill someone with his own hands if he tried, or even physically injure them? That’s what his minions are for shawty. That doesn’t make it any less bad, of course, but the manga captured it perfectly by the fact of he carries around a dagger and a scepter in the capitol battle, but he never even raises it out of more than intimidation. He walks through calmly like he’s not scared at all but he makes sure all the lambda kids do all the actual murder, he just stands there impartially, clearly The Mastermind, as the kids fucking murder the queen of the demons. And I think that’s more profound because he’s, a coward. And he doesn’t realize being the one who orders the strike makes you just as responsible as the one who sticks the knife in someone. The knife is just there to Compensate™  for the fact that he weighs like eighty pounds.

-he’s more of like lady macbeth (because he’s a girlboss) than macbeth himself. He has blood on his hands, but it’s the kind of blood that you can’t wash off. He never killed anyone himself, and he cannot admit he never would have been able to.

-the last thing is that there are definitely epic things about the anime, episode 8 was my favorite so far, goddamn that imagery and the bitch walking through the city while it burns down with the screaming asmr going on behind him my god. We stan. But like the downside of, letting Emma and Ray get to him before he commits first degree murder makes the whole thing lose a lot of his value. In the manga (oh my god look at me being a pretentious manga fan please) it fit more of his ideas- he never backed down, and he planned for Emma coming and trying to stop him. Of course he wanted Emma to stop him, he wanted it with all his fucking heart he was pleading for it to happen but the man wouldn’t give himself what he wanted if he was held at gunpoint. He knew she’d come and he made absolutely sure she wouldn’t be able to stop him. So when she came and he said “you’re too late”??? It kind of said it all, in the fact that he was disappointed that he got his way. He still thought he did the right thing, but deep down there where he shoved all his thoughts and feelings he desperately wanted to be saved from himself.

So yeah, those are my thoughts. Feel free to eviscerate me if these are not Correct he is just my favorite girlboss who I feel the need to yell at

[witchylixie]

[3:19am]

waking up with headaches was normal for you, and usually they went away after you ate something little. however, waking up at your boyfriends dorm, at 3 in the morning, with the worst migraine, was not normal. deciding to leave his bed, and sit in the living room where you didn’t hear any of the snoring, seemed like a good idea until you got into the living room and sat down.

sitting in the living room, you held your head in your hands, tears starting to stream down your face as the pain kept getting worse and worse.

“(y/n)?” you heard minho asked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him with the pain in your head, “hey, w- are you crying?”

he’s now on his knees in front of you, trying to see your face. you nod at him, confirming that yes you’re crying, and you let out a weak, “it hurts.”

minho rest a hand on your knee, “what hurts?”

you let out a whimper, “my head. everything makes it hurt worse.”

minho lets out a sigh, “i’m gonna go get chan, okay?” and you nod, knowing felix needs his sleep. minho leaves and after a few moments, you hear chan walk quickly into the living room, knowing you have chronic migraines, immediately sitting by you, and pulling you into him.

“on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad?” he asks, softly, as to not make it worse.

“eleven,” you whisper, chan sighs and looks at minho.

“go wake up felix, we need to take her to the hospital,” he says, quietly enough where you don’t hear it, and minho nods, walking back into the shared room.

“minho went to get felix and then we’re gonna go to the hospital, okay?” and you nod, choking on another sob, and chan rubs your arms in a comforting manner.

“i know, i’m sorry i can’t make this pain go away.”

after a few minutes, you hear a slight thud coming from the room felix was in and you whimper at the noise. hearing two pairs of footsteps, you force yourself to look up and you see felix standing there, worry evident on his face.

“oh god, baby,” felix whispers, his heartbreaking at the tear tracks on your face, and he sits next to you, pulling you into his arms, and you choke back another sob.

“it hurts,” you whisper, and felix gently runs his hand through your hair, the other one on your waist, pulling you into him.

“minho said we’re taking her to the hospital?” felix asks, voice soft as to not disturb your headache more and chan nods at him.

“they usually never show how much pain they’re in, and the fact they’re crying from it, i rather be safe than sorry.”

you feel felix lift you into his arms and you whimper at the movement, “i know, sweetheart, i know. wrap your legs around me, okay? minho is gonna stay here incase the boys wake up and notice we’re gone, and chan is gonna drive us to the hospital, so i’m gonna carry you to the car, okay?” and you nod slightly. wrapping your legs and arms around him, you grip his shirt tightly, and his heart tightens as he wishes he could take your pain away.

arriving at the hospital, felix now has you on his back, your face buried in his neck, hiding from all the lights. chan helped felix get you signed in and checked out before going to the waiting room.

“has you head eased at all love?” felix asks, your head resting on his chest and his jacket covering your face from the lights.

you shake your head, and try to get closer to felix. he sighs, upset it hasn’t eased, and pulls you closer to him.

kissing your forehead, he mumbles, “i’m sorry i can’t take it away.”

chan leans over, “hopefully it won’t be much longer guys,” he smiles sadly.

you nod, and grip felix’s shirt tighter, the pounding increases for a second before it goes back to the way it was before.

“(y/n) (l/n)?” you hear a nurse say, and you feel felix pick you up, and you three walk into an exam room.

sitting on the bed with you in his lap, felix rubs your back, and the nurse smiles at the kind gesture your boyfriend is doing.

“so, what seems to be the problem?” she asks, and chan responds.

“they woke up with a migraine, and our friend came and got me, and they were crying from the pain in their head,” chan sighs, “they have chronic migraines, but they’ve never cried and it set alarms off in my head.”

the nurse nods, “we can give them an IV with some medicine and fluids,” she says, and then looks at felix, “can you lay down with them?”

you feel felix nod, and lay down on the hospital bed.

you feel felix tap your arm, “baby, turn your arm around so she can give you an IV, okay?” and you nod, turning your arm out, and feeling her clean the area and put the needle in. feeling the needle in your vein, you grip felix’s shirt tighter, and he rubs your arms soothingly.

“i know, love, i know,” he whispers.

after the nurse got through and told them that she’d be back soon to check on you, she left, and chan looked at you two.

“are they asleep?” chan asks, and felix shakes his head.

“no, but i think they will be soon, especially since they gave them an anti-anxiety medication,” he responds, and you move your head to his chest, looking at chan, smiling at him and he smiles back.

“thank you for bringing me here, and i’m sorry minho woke you up,” you said softly, and he shook his head.

“don’t be sorry, you’re family just as much as felix is. i want to make sure you’re in the best health, and if that means losing a few hours of sleep, that’s fine. i just want you okay,” he responds and you smile even wider.

“thank you chan, i love you,” you say, voice still soft, but now slightly slurred as your headache starts to fade and the sleepiness kicks in.

“i love you too, and felix, keep them. they’re a keeper,” chan says, and felix looks down at you, noticing you have fallen asleep.

“i will. they mean the universe to me.”

[fandom-blackhole]

First of all give Gwen a good belly rub and a kith om her head. I bet she is a good girl. Also, I don't know what kind of force bond thingy is this but you and I think in almost the same wa. No worries me likey!

AAA I was thinking about Fennec too! See told you we are connected,

Boba having grandpa moment sksksks but yes, he loves Fennec as much as he loves you,

Also, for the love of God, don't ask him to take photos of you,

All your selfies with him end up looking like this 😐Boba 🤗You,

Boba was feeling extra and bought two diamonds collars, one smaller for Fennec and a bigger one for you,

If, he was not a crime lord and didn't meet you he would end up being like a crazy old cat lady,

Is your head okay? It must be painful to have a brain the size of the universe.

Yes, yes, yes Paz definitely helps hurt animals and went out of his way to get rhe right diploma for that,

Din is butthurt when children flood him with question when will Mr Paz come again,

But he swallows his pride and totally participates in eco wokness classes,

Recently I watched a documentary on YouTube about japanese bunny cafe sooo

Paz has also area for the rabbits in the restaurant???

One day on his way to work Paz came across a pupper in distress and he performed a cpr on the dog, someone filmed it and it went viral,

You were scrolling through Instagram and had to double take

Wait was it? No it can't be

Omg Paz my hero, being friends with animals like a Disney princess,

I need you to lay down, your back must be hurt as well. Hurt from carrying this AU on your back queen.

Space themed room for Grogu 10/10 idea and your idea for the metal ball works so well!

Grogu + Din + Running = one day you end up tending to your boys, there are some scratches on their knees and elbows, but mostly Din took the damage(like it was bound to happen there are compilations of din landing on his butt),

Grogu's stroller must be made out of some, really resilient material (beskar??),

Grogu being freaked out by Fennec, like he sees a kitty but the kitty behaves like a doggo??? (srsly Maine Coons are the best high five bestie),

Boba tried to snap a pic of Grogu and Fennec, yeah, we know how it ended up looking,

Grogu desperately tries to steal and sneak in snacks for uncle Paz' pupper because it's so tiny, must feed it a lot! (oh bless his poor soul, little angel),

You and Din spent a whole day shopping for a space themed blankie, literally went to every shop possible, you were too dedicated to the cause but you ended up placing an order on-line,

When Boba had to go abroad for business, you settled on having a FaceTime date,

You wanted to surprise him so he would try his best to come back home as soon as possible,

You call him up appearing on his screen, wearing his favorite lingerie,

Only to end up to a close up of Boba's forehead and him saying

Princess I can't see you, can you hear me, baby girl are you there??,

Srsly what's wrong with him not being able to use the technology correctly,

You decided on sending him pictures, yours were really spicy, you wanted to show him what he was missing,

Well, he send you a pic too. You weren't sure if it was his arm, leg, or his dick.

Maybe you need to check if his camera is stuck on some type of foggy filter because it's just ridiculous at this point,

Sorry I kinda went all of the place with those. If you want to stick up to specific theme you can choose! Or we can just keep up the random brainstorming - 🐣

Kajdksmskaksb stop! You can't be this nice to me lmao. (Also its funny you mention that my brain must hurt bc I do have chronic headaches and migraines) oh and Gwen says thank you for the belly rub and kisses.....

Lmao Boba is a total grandpa when it comes to technology

He totally takes pictures for you like this

Diamond collar you say 👀👀👀 (Boba's princess is totally inscribed on the inside)

TRYING TO FUCKING FACETIME WITH BOBA OMFG

This man is just fuckinv holding the phone like you would when speaking on the phone, you're just seeing the side of his head

He totally tried to send a disk pick but he only got his thigh and like part of his left ball in the picture, not that you can tell

How the fuck does this man have a phone that has the ability to take pictures as good as the best cameras out there manage to only get pictures that look like they were taken with a flip phone?!?!?!

Din's students definitely ask every day when Paz is coming, they just love him and it takes sssoooooo long for him to come back lmao

Paz's restaurant has places for all types of animals, it doesn't matter what they are he has thought of something for them, and he has food for all of them

Paz totally accidentally becomes viral and gets interviewed by so many news channels, and of course he uses the exposure for good and makes an Instagram to show case the restaurant, his organization, and all of the charities he helps

The Instagram blows up and becomes verified and all the money he makes from it he donates to a new charity each month

(He starts hanging up all the fanart he receives all over the restaurant, especially the ones done by kids)

Ok so Din coming home just covered in scratches and your just like 'wtf happened?!?!!'

Turns out Grogu tried to jump out of the stroller while he was jogging and he had to catch him

Din's entire arm and knee + part of his cheek are just scratched to hell, Grogu hand has a small scratch and he's acting like its the end of the world

Grogu + Fennec = over protective pet and the child that it protects

Fennec is constantly pulling Grogu back from trouble by biting his pants leg

Paz's chihuahua (aaaahhh we need a name) loves abusing Grogu's feeding them habit, constantly begging for food around him and he A L W A Y S finds a way to give them some even if you are watching him like a hawk

Also I raise you, Grogu's favorite movies and TV shows are Star Wars

You are constantly trying to convince Din that he looks like Pedro Pascal, but he always deny it

Jokingly one day you say, "you know what you're right Din, Pedro is so much hotter."

He pouts for the rest of the day

For his bday you get Grogu a Luke figure and post it to Twitter, Mark Hamill sees it and retweets it telling him happy bday and may the force be with you

Grogu totally flips out in excitement

Din makes Grogu his own mandalorian helmet that he helps him paint what colors he wants

Paz gets Grogu a telescope and a book about stars

Boba of course spoils the kid and gets the giant lego star wars sets, as well as one of the actual blasters used on set of the OG movies (its one of the ones that that really cool green bounty hunter used 😏)

Also this is us:

Anyways, sorry I was all over the place, I just got so excited lmao!!!

(Send me THOTS!!)

[amlovelies]

Not sure if you are taking asks from the 101 Wayhaven questions but if you are, 1, 4, 14, 15, 44, and 101 please 🥺 Sorry for sending in a lot of numbers, and thank you in advanced! ♡

I am! tbh I’m always super excited and happy to get asks so please feel free! 💜

101 Wayhaven Questions

1. How did you get into TWC?

it was really just kinda a fluke. I started getting into playing vns in the spring and when the steam summer sale hit I was looking for something to scratch the itch. I bought both wayhaven and fallen hero because they had the highest ratings and became absolutely obsessed

4. What was your first detective like?

My first detective, Dinah, was a bit of a stubborn troublemaker. She enjoyed antagonizing Adam and found herself very charmed by Nate. I didn’t even hesitate once I saw there was a love triangle option lol

putting in a cut because this got a little long

14. Funniest moment in game?

There’s a lot of really funny moments/lines, but I think my favorite is on M’s route in book 2. When they are ragging on the car you can warn them off by saying they’ll never get to see the backseat and I just love their response it’s someting about it being the finest tin can. It’s just great banter 

15. Scariest moment in game?

hmmm I don’t think of any moments in the game as being particularly scary as a reader, but there are a lot of moments which would be super frightening for the detective to actually live through. I think when murphy defeats the li outside the apartment and carries you off. That would be so awful to see this person who you’re starting to have feelings for, who got hurt because of you? Knowing the person who has you will likely kill you at worst and experiment on you at best. That would be super traumatizing. 

44. Which member of UB do you feel you are most similar to?

M. Like no competition. I have some sensory processing issues and chronic migraines so l relate a lot to the feeling of sensory overload and just being in pain because of your surroundings. I also struggle with feeling vulnerable and building intimate connections with people

101. Honestly, how would you react if you found out there were supernaturals living in this world (and your blood is the hottest ticket in town)? 

I think I would be excited to see there’s more to this world than just going to work and paying bills. People wanting my blood on the other hand would be a big struggle and I would probably end up just never leaving my house. 

thank you for sending me these! I always love to talk about Wayhaven 💜