#also it would be nice if the insurance agent actually called be back

[senadimell]

Got a basic watch so I’m less beholden to my phone, sold some furniture online, cleaned the car, went to the library and found copies of The Spinner’s Book of Yarn Designs and Norwegian Mittens and Gloves (!!!) and printed some tablet weaving patterns. Quite a productive day, if I do say so myself

[my-beloved-lakes]

1, 4, 5, 10, 17, 19 for Forever, and 1, 5, 9, 15, and 19 for White Collar?

Forever:

1. what got you into this story?

We have @ghostlyarchaeologist to blame thank for this one. Saw them posting about it several months ago and was actually in the mood to try watching a new TV show (which is rare). Out of all my mutuals, I think I trust them the most to have good taste in TV, so I decided to give it a try

4. assign this story a hyper-specific genre name, e.g. "inspirational religious semi-horror sci-fi western" (yes, that's Trigun)

Um... Idk I'm bad at this. Romantic comedy modern-fantasy crime-drama?

5. do you have a favorite character? who?

I mean they're all so great it's hard to choose but I gotta say Henry, followed shortly after by Abe.

10. if you made an amv about this, what song would you set it to?

@we-have-a-flying-sword pointed out to me the other day that Twenty Long Years by Lord Huron reminded her of Henry. It's not perfect and there are other songs that might work better, but it's a song I love and I do think it works really well.

17. compare this story to your usual tastes. how does it differ from what you've already enjoyed?

Honestly, aside from the fact that it's the first show about a medical examiner I've seen, it's pretty on brand for the kind of shows I like. Nice balance between funny lightheartedness and serious stuff.

19. pitch an idea for a sequel or spinoff novel for this story!

Gosh! I think it'll be a long time before I stop fantasizing about this show getting a reboot. I guess a reboot would start with a recap of what happened immediately following the last scene in the show. Then like, just more of the same I guess, only now there's more trust and transparency between Henry and Jo. I'd like to see them get together. It'd be a long time coming, but they had to wait till they had all their individual issues worked out.

White collar:

1. what got you into this story?

It all started with the show Chuck actually. Matt Bomer played a character in that who was pretty easy to dislike but at the same time I wanted to like him. I just couldn't. Later I decided to look him up to see if he was in anything that looked interesting where he played a more likeable character. I found White Collar and remembered that one of my sisters had said it was pretty good so I started watching it.

5. do you have a favorite character? who?

As I'm rewatching it now I'm remembering how much I love Sara Elis. But also Elizabeth Burke is and always will be absolute wife goals! Mozzy's great too... and Neal. I love a lot of them, really.

9. give the most UNHELPFUL and/or SILLY summary possible.

Tired FBI agent tries desperately (and kinda fails) to keep his crime child out of trouble.

15. what time are you most likely to be found reading/watching this story? (time of year, time of day, season of life, whatever makes sense to you)

Time of day: evening or night cuz I almost never watch TV during the day.

19. pitch an idea for a sequel or spinoff novel for this story!

I don't know what they have planned for the reboot that is actually happening but in a perfect world: Neal found Sara in Paris. (That's why he chose Paris, duh) (Wait she did go to Paris right? Idk it's been a while since I've seen it. I could be miss remembering it) And they are now living happily as a semi-normal couple. Neal is using his unique set of skills and knowledge to help Sara with her insurance recoveries and also doing a little crime on the side. Mozzy has found Neal and is there helping out and encouraging Neal to do more heists/cons. They keep in touch with the Burkes and visit them in the states all the time. Peter let's the world continue to believe Neal Cafrey is dead cuz he knows Neal deserves to be free and that's the only way for that to happen. But any time he needs help on a tricky case he'll call Neal for some unofficial help.

But Honestly I don't want there to be a reboot or spinoff. I liked where it ended and I feel like bringing it back now is a bad idea cuz it'll ruin what, in my opinion, was a satisfying and happy conclusion. I'm really not jazzed about the fact they're working on bringing it back, especially since Willy Garson won't be in it. What's the point without Mozzy!? And apparently Hillary Burton won't be in it either, so that ruins my idea stated above.

[of-another-broken-heart]

I still hate this new editor.

I hate how fucking tiny the text window is. I hate the near-infinite empty space all around it.

I hate the intrusive, long icon list that shows up every time I hit Return.

Why not add it as a static element to the editor window? After hacking it down to this pitiful 300x300 size, surely, SURELY you could afford to toss a little 40 pixel banner along the bottom with those options? Surely???

Knee-jerk repeat complaints aside, I am here to document some further tragedy that is my life.

I got harassed and had my anxiety put into overdrive over the weekend by an insurance representative. Health insurance. Supposedly from the "retention" department. She kept calling and leaving voicemails. I managed to pick up a single call, which interrupted something I was actively doing, so I managed to get her to schedule me an appointment. She would call for it.

She didn't.

I spent the whole rest of that day - Friday - calling back. Being sent to her voicemail. Over. And over. And over. And over. Every fucking call. Straight to voicemail.

Obviously there was nothing over the weekend. Clearly. Obviously.

Monday came. I didn't get a call, but I did get another voicemail. Sorry, she said, for being "a little late." I returned the call. Again. Voicemail. Again.

I called the insurance main line. I tricked the automated maze sphinx with an answer - I'm calling to renew! The automated maze sphinx connected me with an actual representative. She pulled up my account.

I am not up for renewal (recertification). I am good until September of 2024.

I was relieved. I was livid.

I called the "retention" agent. Again. Voicemail. Again. I let her know that I took care of it. That I called the main line, and she could cease harassing me, as my coverage was good for an entire fucking year.

She hasn't left me any more voicemails.

But that was a 4-day long anxiety episode. Preceded, of course, by several other days of anticipatory anxiety. And insomnia.

Between the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, AND the weather, I had a (new!) chronic pain flare, too. No, I don't suddenly have fibro or anything like that. It's that pesky knee, so susceptible to my bad luck, and gravity. I had to use Nana's cane to get around for a while after finally finishing all my anxiety phone calls on Monday.

As it turns out, such an experience triggers my MECFS PEM, too. Unsurprisingly. I have been completely drained. Struggling to have enough energy to get myself to the bathroom, stay hydrated, eat much of anything. I lost most of Tuesday to it. Wednesday is gone and all I can really tell you is that I "woke up" at 7:30 PM and have somehow vacantly remained some detached form of conscious for 10 hours.

Ah, right. It was more anxiety. See, Tuesday also brought me, what I can only figure is, a combination trauma episode and autistic meltdown. Combined with exhaustion, and PEM, and anxiety, and frustration, and And people got to witness it! Which, of course, leads to more anxiety. And blame. Justice Sensitivity, and Rejection Sensitivity? Oh, baby, the charts are spanning to whole other universes, those bars are so big they're extra-planar. That all got cranked into hyperdrive late Wednesday. THAT is how I vacantly remained some detached form of conscious. I was dissociating!

I cried today. I cry most days. Why did I cry?

I'm still in love with someone who hasn't even said so much as "hi" to me in a full year. Hate myself for that. Wish I wasn't a broken fucked up goddamn idiot, huh. Wouldn't that be nice.

I remembered my dad. He's not dead. I just might not ever see him again. I remembered being little, and his enthusiasm and fun spirit, and his laugh, and falling asleep on his chest as a child after he returned from fishing trips, and the time he got us all shushed in a movie theater when he and mom split, and the first time I ever saw him truly cry in pain (I can't remember what the injury was any more - it was either when he cut his knee open, or when he gave himself blood poisoning while cleaning a shark jaw that came up in some nets).

I miss cooking. I miss baking. I miss having friends both willing and able to see me. I miss board games and swimming in pools and laughing while trying to barbecue in the rain. I miss feeling liked and wanted.

So I cry.

These aren't even unique days. This is just life now. This is what I was made for, I guess. To be broken and used and thrown away and forgotten, and always, ALWAYS blamed for ever, EVER suggesting otherwise, and especially so for daring to stand up for myself.

[pretty-little-martyr]

I didn't post about this because despite this being my personal blog I dont actually like sharing about my life, but this event has become so bewildering that I just have to. say something at least.

over a year back, I got in a minor fender-bender sort of accident. bumper to bumper traffic, massive rainstorm, low visibility and a shitton of water— my car hydroplaned and bumper-car'd it's way into the back end of the car in front of me. my fault, entirely. I was still very new to driving, and should have just pulled over to wait the storm out, but I'd been so close to home when the storm hit.

the woman in the car I bonked and I got out, conferred, exchanged insurance information, the police were called as is routine. were both fine, physically, but yknow. insurance policy. we're told to wait until a cop shows up. obviously this being Florida in a downpour, nobody wants to be out, that's going to take a while.

fire truck shows up for medical checks of the both of us, shes joking with them about how she'll need to get her nails redone, she chipped one. I am incapable of jokes as I am a bundle of anxiety and guilt because I cannot handle doing anything "wrong" ever. eventually the cops show up and take statements and leave and tell us we can go our separate ways so long as no one is hurt.

a few months later we get notice shes suing me for medical costs. fair enough if she had to get a checkup, I'm willing to pay, that's my fault, totally. but no. her insurance company is trying to wrangle $50k+ out of us, for reasons. I say "for reasons" because they kept coming up with different shit and contradicting themselves but nonetheless are demanding a fuckton of money. obviously our insurance company would like to know why this amount is needed and isnt going to just cough it up without documented reasons.

during this investigation into why this human would need $50k from me when the car damage is only $10k at the utmost, the insurance company suing us repeatedly gets information about us wrong. first it's that I was speeding and rammed into her at full speed— demonstrably untrue, I have dashcam footage to disprove that. then it's that my dad was actually the one driving (the car is still in his name, as I dont have my own insurance). then it just starts getting weird, with them insisting I was drunk (? no) or that the accident happened on a different highway. they also claim that this woman needs to have 4 of her vertebrae fused, and that's directly because of me. scary shit, that.

we also during this get the information that this woman is posting all over her social media about her gym gains and how shes broken her deadlift record. so this is all a bit scummy, but her insurance company is clearly pulling things out their ass that couldnt stand in court, and honestly, I'm just happy she's okay, because i was fucking wracked with guilt over the idea of ruining someones life like that. I already dont like driving. I spent 2 months refusing to get in my car at all after this, and still hang back 1+ car length from the person ahead of me in traffic these days. I dont have sweaty nightmares anymore, at least, that's nice.

things go quiet for a bit as our insurance company wrestles with the weird lies the suing insurance company is coming up with. it gets to a point where the case is almost resolved, our insurance agreeing to pay $20k or so to just get this over with.

then today I get word that the woman went through with spinal fusion surgery. for arguably no reason. she was fine. she wasnt reporting injury. we had notes from her going to doctors where she reported no pain.

but the company, sensing they would lose out on $50k if they just gave up, talked her into getting a life altering surgery.

I wouldnt ordinarily make this sort of claim but from speaking to the insurance agent— this sort of thing happens all the time. she'd seen it in her field dozens of times. certain insurance companies will gladly ruin their client's lives to get 75% of a payout, the bigger the better. so they talked her into getting surgery and, as proof this happened, sent our insurance company graphic photos of the woman mid-procedure.

I feel a bit sick, honestly. she cant have been much older or younger than me. she's going to spend the rest of her life with 4 vertebrae stuck together and whatever amount of chronic pain comes from that just because some jackass in a suit, or team of jackasses, convinced her itd be no big deal and she'd get a huge payout anyway.

they pretty much just used my fuckup to ruin this human's life. how the fuck do I cope with this.

the American legal system is fucking bizarre and Some law companies, Some, deserve to be exploded with dynamite

[luvspence]

shared jackets

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: you may have forgotten your jacket (on purpose) and spencer lends you his

a/n: i have an obsession with things that say my name (it’s the narcissist in me) and i have an even BIGGER obsession with stuff that says my s/o’s name. so i saw this scene at it came to me. just babie spence in his little jacket AAA

master list!

you rubbed the back of your arms, braving the new york night in nothing but a t shirt

“we had to budget for the jackets and i always forget it in the car” you said while shaking your head

“well, i think they were a good investment. so people are actually aware i’m an fbi agent and not just some nerd with a gun” spencer replied

you laughed and looked at him

“seriously?”

“well no ones out right called me “nerd with gun” but one time we were giving the profile and someone asked me if i was the guy to fix the copy machine”

he said sticking his hands in his pockets

“god why would the copy machine guy need a gun”

he shrugged and laughed as you two continued to walk, the suvs still being a good distance

a breeze blew by and you shivered once again

“it is so cold”

“well yes, but the wind does not make it any better. it’s actually called the ‘wind chill factor’ and it refers to the rate of body heat lost due to the wind, which makes it feel colder than the actual air temperature”

you nodded and continued to rub the back of your arms to try and produce some heat

spencer watched at your hair blew over your face, and you laughed and picked the stray pieces out of the way, as it sticked annoyingly to your lip gloss.

he reached out his hand to move one last piece of hair that you missed, his cold hands gently passing over your lips and your cheek until the hair was blowing behind your head

you shuddered when his hand touched your face

“oh i’m sorry”

“oh no it’s okay! thank you actually, i’m just really really cold and your hands are very very cold” 

spencer nodded, tugging on the fbi provided windbreaker he had on

eventually he pulled it off and stuck it in front of you

“here, this will keep you warm” he said with a smile

“then what’s gonna keep you warm?”

“well, w-ell i’m much taller than you! and well um heat rises so”

“i don’t think that’s how it works”

“it’s not, but given that i am taller i do carry more body weight meaning i produce more body heat. so i will be fine. but you seem to not be”

he said as he waved the jacket in front of you

“okay, thank you” you said as you put on the jacket

a couple sizes too big, spencer was right. he was tall. so the jacket hit your lower thigh, not to mention that “dr. spencer reid” was embroidered on the front

your hands didn’t even come out of the sleeves, they just awkwardly hung in the balance as you walked

“that’s infuriating” spencer said was a raised eyebrow

“what?”

“it looks better on you than it does on me”

you laughed “not even! you look great in this jacket come on, you look great in everything!”

you didn’t mean to say the last part, but it just kind of slipped

“i do?”

he said as he laughed and straightened the tie he was wearing

“yeah, you’re the only person i know who can pull off those button up short sleeve shirts”

he blushed “well t-thank you” he said was a tight closed mouth smile

and uncomfortable amount of time went past before spencer said

“you also l-look good un everything! i mean you look good always! uh regardless. yeah. y-you’re very pretty is what i’m g-getting at” he said basking in the awkwardness

“why thank you spencer that’s very kind of you” you said

you followed up “i think you’re very pretty too”

he just smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets as you finally reached the car

you got in the middle seat, smushed next to spencer and derek on the other side

you still had his jacket on, honestly forgetting it all together

spencer didn’t though, he spent most of the car ride nervously counting the days since he had washed it, and wondering if it smelt bad, and wondering if you would notice the curry stain on the inside or the hole in the pocket

while spencer was worrying, your eyes became heavier and heavier before you eventually fell asleep, leaning your head on spencer’s shoulder unconsciously

spencer didn’t move a muscle, just carefully sliding his hand over to move a piece of hair from your face, being careful not to wake you

he sat and stared at you, your eyes shut and your face perfectly rested on his arm

his day dreams of you borrowing his jacket and sleeping on his shoulder on a normal, non-platonic basis was interrupted by morgan

“kid”

“what?”

“this is getting sad to watch”

“what? and shh don’t wake up y/n”

he laughed

“oh i’m sorry you wanna keep your girlfriend all nice and comfy”

“shut up! she’s not my girlfriend. and what’s getting sad to watch now???”

he said as he looked down to insure you were still asleep

“you and y/n. y’all obviously got something, and you obviously are in LOVE with her, don’t think i don’t notice. the jacket she’s wearing says “dr. spencer reid” for a reason!”

“okay sure whatever maybe i enjoy her company and her laugh and her face and whatever okay just her! but, it’s not reciprocated. no way she totally just sees me as a colleague”

“you know what pretty boy, i’m gonna tell you something you don’t hear often. you’re wrong”

immediately after derek said that you opened your mouth, eyes still closed

“yeah you’re wrong spencer”

he looked at you in terror “you’re up?!”

“have been ever since you shushed morgan”

he laughed nervously

“so i’m wrong?” hes asked again

“yup, so wrong. i actually purposely left my jacket in here so i could wear yours” you said sighing into spencers shoulder “it just smells so good”

[jawabear]

I have no idea if requests are open, so feel free to ignore!

Javier x reader, enemies to lovers with an injured and quietly scared reader?

Not impossible (Javier Peña x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Hey! I’m sorry this took so long anon! I’ve had a lot of stuff to do outside of writing with sucks but I’m slowly working my way through my other requests so hopefully it won’t be too long before they’re up as well! Thank you for being patient with me. Also, I’m not very good at writing the whole enemies to lovers trope so this is about as good at that gets... but I hope it’s good enough for you. Enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, Javi is a struggling man, hospitals, Steve being a smart ass, my terrible writing

Summary: In his job, Javier gets proven wrong about a lot of things he though impossible, and he’s about to get proven wrong again

“You’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that?”

“Oh, and you’re not?” She retorted as she pushed him out the way. “Why do you have to be such a dick all the time, Peña?” She muttered under her breath as she began pressing the buttons on the copier.

“I could as you the same thing” he said, folding his arms over his chest as he watch her take her sweet time, intending to piss him off. And it was working. “Could you be any slower? Other people have work to do as well you know?”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure the girls will be happy to wait for you a little while longer” she taunted giving him a sweet smile. This only angered him further, more many reasons. But the main one being he hated that that was how she thought of him. But he had only himself to blame for his reputation.

The copier beeped a few times and she pulled out the few sheets of paper there was. “There, happy now?” She said before walking past him, purposely bumping her shoulder against his.

“Very” he muttered as he went about doing his own work, but his eyes wandered over to her, watching as she walked away. Watching the way her hips swayed slightly with every step. How her hair bounce to. And how she always walked with such purpose.

He knew he was in deep for her, but it was clear she didn’t feel the same.

He didn’t exactly know why they had the relationship they did, but ever since she started working for the DEA, they had just clashed. They had never seen eyes to eye and disagreed on just about everything. The only thing the did agree on being that they didn’t get on. And every agent new it. They didn’t exactly try to hide their distaste for each other. They made it very obvious.

This lead to obvious speculation about the true nature of their relationship. It came down to the classic “they’re only mean because they like you” sort of idea. Every other agent was convinced that they were actually together. And with relationships between agents being pretty much forbidden, they all seemed to come to the same conclusion that they were in face horrible to each other as an excuse to spend more time with each other and not let on that they were in face dating.

But this wasn’t the case. Unfortunately. They’re weren’t dating. Much to Javier’s dismay.

“You still with us?” Came a voice from beside him pulling him from his thoughts.

Javi looked and saw Steve standing beside him “yeah..” Javi said, clearing his throat and collecting his copies.

“What took you so far away?” Steve teased as he followed after his partner back to their desks. Javi just huffed in response, he never gave Steve a straight answer to questions lien that. He knew that what ever he answered he would just pester him about the same thing over and over again “it was (Y/N) again, wasn’t it”

For fuck sake.

“No Steve” Javi lied “it was about going home to get away from this shit”

“Well, to add more shit to the pile, Messina wants to see you”

“When?”

“Now”

“What the fuck for?” Javi sighed rubbing his forehead.

“Didn’t say. But it doesn’t look like you’re going to be alone for whatever it is” Steve nodded his head over to Messina’s office. Javier turned around and saw (Y/N) walking in. Javi only sighed again and pushed himself away from his desk and took his time walking up to Messina’s office.

-

“Me and...(Y/N)? Ma’am, all due respect-“

“Messina” she corrected for what seemed like the hundredth time “or boss. And are you questioning my decision?”

“W-Yeah actually I am. I don’t think sending me and (Y/N) out into live fire is a good idea”

“You two are DEA agents. Not children. You are both going on this mission whether you like it or not, and I expect the two of you to behave appropriately and professionally” Messina looked between the two of the, (Y/N) being all too quiet beside Javi. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, boss” (Y/N) nodded, those were the first words she had spoke in a while. She shot her eye over to Javi who had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, fine...” he mumbled.

“Good, I expect you on site with in the hour. And be careful both of you. Look out for each other” Messina told them as she handed (Y/N) a file with the location and target.

(Y/N) nodded her head, taking the file and leaving, Javi following close behind trying to get a look at the file. She held the file up to him and he took it from her. “You only had to ask” she muttered. They both found themselves standing in her office, she walked around to her desk and pulled her gun out of her drawer while Javi stood in the doorway looking through the file.

“You can’t kill” he told her quietly, his eyes not leaving the page with the target on. This was a murder mission. And he knew she couldn’t kill anyone, even if it was for the sake of the job.

“But you can...” she said.

“You make it sound as if I enjoy it” he scoffed “as if it’s easy...”

“I know it’s not easy Javier. If it was, everyone would do it. But it takes a whole lot of bravery and courage to pull the trigger and end someone’s life, regardless of who they are. You are braver and more courageous than I could ever be”

He let out a light laugh and lifted his head to look at her “(Y/N), that almost sounded like a compliment”

A hint of a smile ghosted over her perfect lips as she averted her gaze from his back down to her gun “yeah well...don’t let it get to your head. I need it clear if we’re both going to make it out alive”

“Eso es frío” (that’s cold) he chuckled with the shake of his head.

“You know I can speak Spanish right?” She told him.

“Since when?” He asked a little shocked, but now questioning himself as to whether he’s ever let slip his feelings for her in his native tongue or not. She hadn’t ever said anything.

“Since always. So, whilst you can probably talk about Steve behind his back, you’re going to have to try harder do to it with me” she said before walking past him.

“Eres algo más” (you are something else) Javier muttered.

“Lo sé, pero tú también” (I know, But so are you) she called back to him.

Well, if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, her definitely was now.

-

She examined the room, her gun held steadily in front of her as she looked, but it was empty. There was no one there. She lowered her gun and reached for her radio, holding down the button “there’s no one here Javi” she said.

“There has to be” Javi’s voice came through, it wasn’t the clearest audio but she knew what he was saying. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs in the-“ she didn’t get a chance to finish before she heard a creek in the floor boards beside her. She looked and saw their target emerging from a cut in the walls, gun raised and pointing straight towards her.

(Y/N) reached for her gun but it was all too late for that. She somehow managed to manoeuvre herself so that the bullet didn’t go through her head, but she wasn’t quick enough to dodge it completely.

Her leg seemed to just...stop. She fell to the floor crying out in pain as like a wounded animal. The bullet was hot as it imbedded itself into her thigh. The gun had dropped from her hands and fallen to the floor. Her hands were of better use holding her thigh she thought.

The guy was shot dead and Javi quickly appeared in the room, but she could barely make him out through her tears. In all her time as a field agent, she never thought she’d ever get shot. She was too focused, but it seemed this time, her feelings for Javier got in the way.

“Fucking hell (Y/N)!” Javier yelled as he raced to her side, his gun too being forgotten on the floor next to hers.

“Javi...I-It hurts” she sobbed.

“I know baby” he whispered. She didn’t really take much notice of the name, nor did he. There were more pressing matters at hand that his slip of the tongue. He reached around her to the back pocket of her vest, knowing she would have a bandage of some kind in there. He smiled a little to himself as he pulled it out. “Hold still for me (Y/N)” he said gently as he moved her hands from her leg.

“D-Don’t touch it” she sniffed.

“I’m not gonna touch it. But I need to wrap it so you don’t bleed out” Javi carefully began wrapping the bandage around her wound tightly. She let out quiet whimpers of pain for which he apologised.

“Can you stand?” He asked when he had finished wrapping her wound.

“I-I think so..” he took her hands and helped her get to her feet but her leg gave out again sending her into his chest. His arms instantly wrapped around her to make sure she didn’t fall back to the floor.

“I’m sorry..” she whispered as she tried to stand again.

“It’s fine” he whispered before lifting her into his arms bridal style. She didn’t really have the strength to protest, and she didn’t want to either. It felt nice to be held in his strong arms.

Javi took it upon himself to bring her to his car and drive her as quickly as he could to the hospital. She struggled to keep her eyes open but he kept talking to her and holding her hand as often as possible to keep her mind active to insure she didn’t pass out on him. “Stay awake for me (Y/N). You’re going to be okay”

-

Javier sat outside her hospital room, his head in his hands and his leg bouncing nervously. He hadn’t moved from that chair since he first sat down in it about three hours ago. He was too scared to leave. Scared the nurse would come out and he wouldn’t be there. Or (as unlikely as this was) (Y/N) would ask for him and he wouldn’t be able to see her.

He was far too stressed out to do anything. And he was too scared to move.

“Javi!” Steve called to him as he jogged down the hallway towards him. Javi looked up at his partner but didn’t have the energy to actually respond with words. “How is she?” Steve asked when he stopped in front of his friend.

“Alive...at least” Javier muttered “they’re uh..running some tests. Want to make sure she doesn’t have an infection or anything. My attempt at patching her up was shit and wasn’t enough to stop the bleeding...”

“Fuck man” Steve said as he sat beside Javi “I’m sorry this shit happened. Did you get the bastard who did it?”

Javi just nodded and lowered his head rubbing his hands together. “Hey, just think, it could’ve been a whole lot worse” Steve tried to offer him some comfort but he didn’t really know what to say.

“It could’ve been a whole lot better” Javi retorted.

Steve didn’t get a chance to say anything else before the door to (Y/N)’s hospital room was opened and a nurse emerged. Javi and Steve immediately stood catching her attention.

She gave a gentle smile to them “Ella está bien para tener visitas. Pero ella puede desvanecerse dentro y fuera de la consciouncia” (she’s okay to have visitors. But she may fade in and out of consciousness) she told them quietly. Steve didn’t get a lot of what she was saying, something about ‘she’s okay’ and ‘conscious’.

“Gracias” Javi nodded to her. She smiled again before leaving them.

“I didn’t get a lot of that” Steve admitted.

“She’s okay. But she’ll probably fall in and out of sleep if we go in there” Javi translated for him. “Do you want to go in first?” He asked pointing his thumb at the door.

“No, you go in first. She’ll be happier to see you than she will me” Steve said patting Javi on the shoulder.

“She hates me...” Javi mumbled.

“Yeah, sure she does” Steve nodded a long, a knowing look on his face “I’ll go tell the boss. Take your time in there” Javi couldn’t reply before Steve was walking away leaving him alone.

He looked towards the door and hesitantly reached out for the handle before pushing it down and opening the door.

She was awake when he walked in. Staring out of the window on the opposite side of the room. Her fingers scraping anxiously against the blanket that was draped over her. He drew in a sharp breath before walking into the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything to her at first he knew she was aware of his presence.

Javi sat in the chair beside her bed. She was facing away from him and he didn’t know what to say to her. Anything he did say probably wouldn’t mean much to her. Anything he wanted to say wouldn’t mean anything either.

So for a while they sat in silence. The only other sounds were the quiet shuffling and muffled noises from outside the room and the annoying but somewhat comforting beeping of the heart monitor she was attached to.

Javier’s eyes trailed up and down her body. Her leg was slight elevated and wrapped up in a few layers of bandage. A wire attached to her arm. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of what he was seeing. But he was glad she was alive. But he knew she wasn’t okay.

“What’s wrong with me Javier?” She asked quietly. Her voice and question startling him slightly.

“You were shot (Y/N). They’re just running some tests to see if you have an infection-“ He answered but she cut him off before he could completely finish.

“That’s not what I mean” she said turning her head, their eyes meeting and he hated the sadness and pain he saw within them. “What’s wrong with me?” She asked again.

Javi didn’t answer for a moment. He was trying to pull his thoughts together, he wanted to give her the honest answer but he didn’t think now was the time for him to confess his love for her.

“You’re human (Y/N)” he told her quietly. Javi hesitantly reached out and took her small cold hand in his larger, warmer ones “No one can expect you to force yourself to do things as drastic as taking a life”

“That’s my job Javi” she laughed weakly “What kind of DEA agent am I if I can’t even do my job?”

“You’re one of the best agents we have. These things happen (Y/N), don’t beat yourself up over it” he told her.

“They don’t happen to you...” she said. “These things don’t happen to you Javi”

“No” he agreed “far worse things happen to me. I have a far worse pain to deal with”

“What’s that?”

“I have to watch the ones I care about get hurt or killed. And all I can do is stand idly by and watch...wishing it was me instead...”

Her bottom lip began to tremble as she watch a look of sadness wash over his face. She tried to squeeze his hand in reassurance but she was too tired and too weak. But he must’ve felt something because he looked to their joined hands a smiled a little. “Javi...” she sighed quietly. “I don’t want it to be you...” she told him.

He removed one hand from hers and brought it up to rest on her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. She leaned into his touch and managed to squeeze his hand gently. Maybe it was just the drowsiness getting to her which was making her more affectionate towards him. But he wanted to believe it was because she liked him back, but he knew it was impossible.

The hand on her cheek brought her unbelievable warmth and comfort and it was making her sleepy. She struggled to keep her eyes open, her head falling deeper and deeper into the pillow.

“Maybe you should get some sleep” he said quietly.

“Will you stay?” Her voice was small and quiet but she couldn’t open her eyes when she asked her questions, slowly she found herself falling asleep, still holding his hands.

“If you want me to” he smiled.

She hummed “want you..to...” her voice seemed to trail off as her head rolled to the side a little more than it already was.

Javier waited a moment before he voice her name, testing to see if she was in face asleep. When she didn’t respond he came to the conclusion she was in fact asleep. He let her be, knowing she needed rest after the traumatic events of the day. But he wasn’t going to leave her.

Whilst in there, the nurses flittered in and out making sure she and he were okay. And even as the sun began to set, she show no intention of waking up. But the constant beep of the heart monitor was comfort enough for him to know she was still alive.

He rested his elbow on the bed and raised her weak hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles before resting his forehead against it. “You know, I have half a mind to tell Crosby and Messina to ban your from field duty after this. To save me from having to go through this again” his voice was quiet as he spoke, he was scared of waking her but also he didn’t want her to hear what he had to say. “Fuck (Y/N). You got lucky. That could’ve been a whole lot worse. You could’ve-“

He stopped himself quickly, feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat and his eyes burning with tears “but you’re okay. That’s what I have to remember. And...and when you wake up...I’ll tell you. Tell you how I feel. Tell you I love you. And that I’m sorry I’m such an asshole to you. It’s a shitty excuse but...I’ve never felt like this about someone before and...it’s fucking scary. I guess I...I just don’t know how to...deal with it...”

She drew in a deep breath and shifted slightly making him look over to her face to see if she had woken up, but it seemed she was still completely out of it. Javi pressed another kiss to her hand, longer this time before bringing it back down to the bed. “I’ll let you rest (Y/N)” he whispered before leaning back in his chair. His eyes and hand never leaving her before he found himself drifting off to sleep as well.

When he woke up again, it was due to the light filtering through the window on the far side of the room, and also the sound of the nurse flittering about the room and checking on (Y/N) who was still asleep. Javier groaned as he attempted to stretch his arms above his head but he was hindered slightly when he noticed that their hands were still joined at her side.

“Buenos dias, Agente Peña” the nurse smiled gently over to him. Javi was a little concerned at the fact he had fallen asleep, he didn’t know what time it was. Was he late for work? And why did he suddenly care if he was?

“¿que hora es?” (What time is it?) he asked.

The nurse looked at the watch on her wrist “9:32” she told him.

He was late. Very late.

“Fuck” he swore under his breath.

“You might like to know that a man who you were with before came by to tell you not to come in to work today” she said, her English wasn’t the best but he understood what she was saying.

(Y/N) groaned from the bed catching both of their attention. Javier leaned forwards slightly and tightened his grip on her hand. “(Y/N)?” He said quietly.

“Javi...” she managed a soft smile as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked her.

“Happy..” she said.

“You’re the only person in the world then that has felt happy after being shot” he laughed quietly.

“No...happy because you’re here” she told him.

Her words caught him a little off guard and he looked up to the nurse but she had at some point slipped out of the room. “I think you’re still a little hazy from whatever it was they put in you”

“No Javi. I know what I’m saying. I owe you my life. You saved me”

“I’d hardly call it that...” he muttered as he looked away. She squeezed his hand tightly, proof that she was coming back to herself. “I was doing what you would do”

“I’m not just talking about yesterday” she said “I’m talking about every day before that...I know that...we have a strange relationship...but...just having you in my life...it gives me a reason to go on”

“What are you talking about (Y/N)?”

“I’m...I like you Javi. A lot. And I didn’t ever saying anything because...well you never exactly made it easy” she laughed “but I...you probably don’t do relationships but...” she didn’t finish her words. She turned her head to look away from him and pulled her hand from his. She felt like an idiot in confessing to him. She knew it was impossible that he would like her back. He hated her.

But he didn’t.

“(Y/N)” he whispered as he reached over to press his hand against her cheek to turn her head to face him again.

“I’m sorry” she apologised.

“For what?”

“I feel like I’ve now...made things even worse between us...”

“Hey, I may be an asshole but I am capable of feelings. And I like you too”

“Y-You do?” She spoke in barely a whisper, she was a little too shocked by his words. He nodded to her. Her face broke out into a bright smile and reached over to take his face in her hands pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. She wasn’t quite in control of her actions but that didn’t stop her from continuing. And he didn’t hesitate in kissing her back.

“And it’s about time too” came a voice from the doorway making them both jump away from each other. They looked over to the door to see Steve standing there looking all to proud of himself. “About time you two got together. It’s a real pain in my ass trying to be the middle ground between you. And it will also settle the chatter around the office”

“Do you know how to knock?” Javi asked.

“Yeah” Steve nodded.

“Then go out and try it” Javier pointed to the door and Steve laughed and left the room, closing the door behind him, but there was no knock that followed.

“It seems like we’ve apparently made a lot of people happy” he chuckled. She nodded and gave him a gentle smile.

“Are you happy?” She asked him quietly.

“Beyond happy”

18/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

[sixofpomegranates]

Rain in California - Act 1 - California

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 1 - California🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ |  🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 9.4k

A/N: The music used in this story is not owned by me (obviously) & I used it in the same style that 'Rock of ages' and 'Mamma Mia' used songs. I gave them a different meaning and context. The meaning and context are NOT representing the one that the ORIGINAL ARTIST had.

TW: ANGST, mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, stalking, death by overdose, mentions of OD, passive aggressiveness, arguing,

Songs in this Chapter: La di die – Nessa Berrett Going to Hell | My Medicine | Heaven Knows – The Pretty Reckless

“Spence?”

 Spencer looked up from his book.

Oh, so now he was allowed to talk with them about the case.

Since the briefing they hadn’t talked to him about anything. Spencer had to beg them, to let him work on this case.

He had really felt left out and why?

Because the stalking victim was a famous Rockstar with addiction issues. Spencer was hurt about his team not wanting him to be on the case because of this. Yes, he had struggled with addiction in the past, but he had been clean for over ten years now.

Was this unfair treatment…this distrust in his sobriety, ever going to stop?

It wasn’t like they had cared much about it when Emily had faked her death or when Maeve died, but this, for them, looked like a too high risk? Because there was a pretty girl involved?

He tried his best not to sound passive aggressive when responding.

 “Yeah, JJ?”, with success.

“I asked if everything´s okay.”

“Sure. Why should anything be wrong?”, the blonde shrugged a little, an apologetic look on her face.

“Well the case-“ “It´s just a stalking case. Nothing we haven’t already seen. I actually wonder why we even need to come. The stalker isn’t aggressive and hasn´t hurt anybody. Right now he´s just importunate. The police should be able to catch this unsub themselves.”, he had accidently let a little of his passive aggressiveness slip and Emily, who was sitting next to JJ, looked at him.

“The record label convinced the police to contact us. They seem worried about their artist.”

“From what I know…this girl can take care of herself.”, Luke snickered, earning himself a ‘Come on, really?’-look from Emily. “Sorry, but have you seen or listened to her music? She could probably beat Reid in a fist fight.”

“Just because she´s making rock music, doesn’t mean she´s tough. But we should talk a little about the case, Reid if you ever feel unco-“, he quickly interrupted her with a snappy tone.

“Why, because she´s an addict? I don’t care about that.”, Emily lifted her hands in a calming manner.

“Okay, jeez. Just the way you´re on edge, since the briefing, doesn’t look like you are okay.”, Spencer took a deep breath, trying to talk calmer this time, now almost pleading in tone.

“I-I know. But I´m clean since was twenty-six. I never touched anything again and I don’t feel the need to. I even regulate my alcohol intake, never drinking more than a beer, maybe two glasses of whiskey. Which means, that statistically all of you are at a higher risk, of becoming addicted, during this case, then I am. You guys need to trust me.”, the dark haired woman sighed and nodded.

“You´re right. I´m- We´re just worried. You´re our friend, Spencer.”, she handed him a file. “Just promise me you talk to one of us, if something changes.”

 He nodded opening the file. A picture of [y/n] looked at him. Dark heavy make-up, dark clothing and jet black hair with colorful streaks.

His younger self would´ve been as attracted as terrified of her.

He flipped through the pages. [y/n] [y/l/n]. Twenty-six years old. Stalker since approximately two years. Nothing extremely outstanding for a stalking case…which was kinda outstanding. No letters, no calls, no pictures, no break in, no threats…sometimes she would get random, expensive present delivered to her mansion, but that was it. Given that she was famous, this presents did not even have to be from a stalker.

 “Are we sure there´s even is a stalker?”, Spencer frowned at his own question, Emily shrugged as a response.

“According to the manager, Philip Schuyler, since the first time she played his concerns down, he gets these calls of a man asking for [y/n] and how she is doing. The label didn’t take it serious after he told them, but then the unsub stole the last finished album from [y/n]´s band ‘Shot Monarch’, before it could get released and distributed, also erasing every digitally existing copy. He then called the manager and send the owner of the record label a letter; typed on a computer, no fingerprints; stating that he wanted to be taken serious. Later [y/n] got the USB, containing all her songs, with a dozen white lilies, her favorite, back per mail with an apology letter; stating that she had done nothing wrong and didn’t need to worry, since he could never harm her or her carrier. That´s when the label pushed the police to contact us.”

“Because they are worried about the music…not the woman.”, JJ sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, that´s the industry. At least her manager is worried. Police states that he got himself a gun license after that and tries to be everywhere [y/n] is.”, Luke added.

“Something about that is off.”, Spencer whispered, rubbing his stubbles, before looking at JJ, Emily and Luke again. “There is nothing that indicates a stalker, but every time somebody doubts his existence, he does something noticeable. I know she is famous and that comes with the stigma of having crazed fans as stalkers, but most stalking in general is committed by someone known to the victim, such as an ex-partner or acquaintance. We should check that out.”, JJ nodded.

“It would also be smart if one of us stays by her site.”, Luke quickly raised his hand.

“I volunteer. I- Like- Really! If necessary I´ll sleep in the SUV.”, Emily raised an eyebrow.

“Can it be that you´re a fan? I heard you and Penelope freak out a little over the case earlier.”, a shy smirk appeared on his lips.

“‘Shot Monarch’ has really good music. Since my road trip a year ago, I love their stuff. Penelope actually tol-”, Spencer interrupted him determined.

“I´ll do it.”, Emily quickly shook her head.

“Reid, no.” “Why not?”, his voice got high, making him quickly cleared his throat. “Because-“ “Because she is taking drugs. Do you trust me that little, Emily?”, Spencer snapped at her and she leaned back into her seat. Sure the others from the team were older than him, but he was in his late thirties, and yet was treated like a child.

 “Fine. If you think you can handle it, do it. But stop being so sassy, I hate that.”, Emily looked at look in defeat. “Luke tell him what you know about [y/n] and the band.”, he nodded pulling out his phone.

“Okay so, [y/n] is the lead singer of ‘Shot Monarch’. She´s from a small town in Ohio and came to LA when she was eighteen, to become a singer after going viral. They are a band since five years, the name never really got explained by them, but it has something to do with the butterfly; at least that’s a fan theory I now from Penelope. Plus it makes sense, because [y/n] has a tattoo of one on the back of her hand.”, Luke flipped through some pictures of older man, reminding Spencer of bikers and insurance agents at the same time. Like middle-aged fathers that liked rock but still had a nine-to-five job.

“Hank, the guitarist, was a lawyer before and in a cover band with his high school friends Tom, the bassist, who worked for an insurance company, and Leroy, the drummer, who was history teacher and is also married to Hank. They met [y/n] at an open mic night and even though she´s twenty-six and they are in their late forties, early fifties, they got along so well, that they became a band. That´s ‘Going to Hell’ by the way. One of the more controversial songs.”, Luke pressed play on the video and already moved the lips to the lyrics.

  “Father did you miss me,

Been locked up a while.

I got caught for what I did but took it all in style.

Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when.

Now I'm versed in so much worse,

So I am back again, and he said

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

  “The guitar you´re hearing is a classic Hank. That guy knows what he´s doing.”, Luke added, seemingly in his element, reminding Spencer a lot of Garcia when she was excited.

 Spencer nodded and watched the music video, the overall theme was dark and heavy. [y/n] voice was nice, a little smoky and strong, but everything just sounded so angry. Not really his style, although he preferred older, classical music in general over the ‘normal’ things ‘normal’ people liked. [y/n] wore tightfitting latex, while the men from her band mostly just wore black jeans and shirts, sometimes leather jackets. At one time, she was surrounded by snakes, only wearing white lingerie. She was really pretty, red lipstick making her look like a biting version of Snow White. Like a princess that would rather save herself, becoming the villain along the way, before letting someone else save her.

  “Father did you miss me,

Don't ask me where I've been.

You know I know, yes, I've been told I redefine a sin.

I don't know what's driving me to put this in my head.

Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead!

And he said

For the lives that I fake, I'm going to hell!

For the vows that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the ways that I hurt, when I'm hiking up my skirt.

I am sitting on a throne while they're buried in the dirt.

For the man that I hate, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

  The lyrics and symbolistic in the video mocked parts of the Christian belief system. Such as the bite Eve had taken from the apple, showing [y/n] taking a bite from the forbitten fruit. The last supper and the crucifixion were shown with a dark twist too. This could be a hint of rebellion, to cope with religious trauma, or simply be a way to cause controversy.

“Please forgive me father,

I didn't mean to bother you.

The devil's in me father.

He's inside of everything I do.

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the laws that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I hate, I'm going to hell!

For the lies that I make, I'm going to hell!

For the way I condescend and never lend a hand.

My arrogance is making this head buried in the sand.

For the souls I forsake, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' married to the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

As the video ended Luke took his phone and put it back into his pocket.

“Their earlier stuff had a little more emotion to it, was about heartbreak, suffering and made you feel. This is one of the more recent ones and you can hear that it´s now mostly just stuff like sex, drugs and anger. Most people think that´s because [y/n] writes all of their music and she´s…seen better days…”, Luke sighed, trying to make it sound as polite as possible.

“Because she started taking drugs?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows, but Luke shook his head. “Oh, no. She, according to many rumors and an interview with her father, has taken drugs since she was a teen. But at this point…she just simply seems to have given up, having chosen to not go deeper with her songs anymore. I mean, they still slap. They just don’t slap your heart anymore, you know?”

“Not so nice, when your father talks to the press about your addiction. Could her father be a suspect?”, JJ asked, making Luke shrug and shake his head at the same time.

“Most likely not. He said in that interview that he wishes her the best, but doesn’t want to speak to her again.”, Emily mouthed a silent ‘ouch’, the whole talk about the rockstars private life making Spencer think.

“Maybe that´s part why she´s taking drugs? Often people use them to cope with-“, Emily interrupted him, profiling [y/n] and her substance abuse, quickly.

“Reid. We´re not going there to fix her, just the stalking situation.”, he nodded, knowing that he had a savior complex, always trying to help and save everybody.

“Exes?”, Spencer asked and Luke shook his head.

“Just one is known, Dean Lennox, singer, now married with kids. He and [y/n] were together for two years and according to him it was toxic. Like, always fighting, jealousy, distrust, fear of being left but she still didn’t want him close at the same time, lying. After their last breakup, he told a gossip magazine, he just couldn’t watch her destroy herself anymore. She never commented on it.”, JJ looked at Spencer worried.

“She seems like a handful, are you sure you can handle her alone?”, he chuckled while nodding.

“I´ve been through worse. How hard can it be to watch a twenty-six year old? When she, like Luke said, really doesn’t want anyone close, I´ll just sit on her couch and let her do her thing.”

*****

After landing in Los Angeles and checking into their hotel, the team drove to police station. There already waited a massage for them with an address. It was from the manager, he wrote that he was terribly sorry, but they needed to come to the recording studio, since the band was on a tight schedule all morning. Luke had tried his best, but Spencer could see his excitement through his tough-guy-façade. He, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the SUV´s and drove to the address.

 The building they entered was large and with great security. Expensive, white marble flooring in the entire entrance hall. They showed their batches to the lady at the front desk and the security, she called somebody and soon a short, pudgy man, dressed in a designer suit walked out of the elevator and up to them. He smiled at them friendly and shook everyone’s hand.

 “Ah, the agents. I am so glad that you´re here. Hi. Hello. I´m Philip Schuyler, the manager of ‘Shot Monarch’.”, Emily shook his hand and pointed at the team.

“Nice to meet you. I´m unit chief SSA Prentiss, those are SSA Jareau, Alvez and that´s Dr. Spencer Reid. He will take on the job as bodyguard for Miss [y/l/n].”, the man scratched his brown hair, avoiding the bald spot on top.

“Yes, uhm, please just call her [y/n]. She really dislikes being called Miss [y/l/n]. We also already have police and security around her house, so I don’t know how important a personal bodyguard is. I really want this case solved and it would be terrible if we would hinder your work.”, Spencer lifted a finger.

“Actually, it would be better if I´m able to stay close to [y/n]. Normal police and security could probably oversee minor details about the stalker, Mr. Schuyler.”, the man waved off.

“Please, Mr. Schuyler was my father. Philip is completely fine. Everybody calls me that.”, he started walking to the elevator and the agents followed him. “Right now the band´s having a little break. After that, we need to record one more song for the ‘live in the studio’-version of their new album, that just came out. Are you familiar with their music?”, they got into the elevator and Luke already nodded.

“Yeah. Really great. Big fan.”, Emily lifted her hand, silencing Luke.

“I´m sorry. If that´s a problem we can-“, Philip laughed, interrupting her.

“Oh, no, no. [y/n] will love that. She likes meeting fans and showing off her music.”

 They got out of the elevator, walked through the little hallway and entered the large double door in front of them. There was the recording studio. A lot of technical things, Spencer didn’t know much of, and a large glass wall in front of it, showing another room.

 The recording room was large, with a black leather couch and beanbags in it and nice, warm, wooden flooring. A drum set was placed on an vintage looking, red carpet and the overall lighting was warm and inviting as well. The door to the room was open and he could hear the three men, from the band, talking and laughing inside.

 “Guys, can you come out for a bit?”, Philip asked them and they looked up, walking up to them. “Okay, uhm, guys, those are the agents from the FBI. You know? The once coming because of [y/n]´s stalker.”, the largest man, a head taller than Spencer, smiled through his long grey beard that contrasted his bald head.

“Nice to meet you then, I´m Hank. That my husband Leroy,”, they shook hands with the dark skinned, skinny man, who in contrast to his husband was cleanshaven, with short black hair and glasses, “and that´s our friend Tom.”, the chubby, white, blond waved at them friendly.

“Why would like to talk with each of you individually, later at the police station, if that is possible.”, Emily said before introducing her team again, also mentioning Spencer´s duty as bodyguard. Leroy grimaced his face.

“Uh, [y/n] will hate that. The girl does not like being babysat.” “I´m not going to babysit her.”, Spencer answered, making Leroy chuckle. “That´s not how she will see it though.”, Hank sighed and put a hand on Spencer´s shoulder.

“Our girl is going through a lot right now. So it would be nice of you, to not take everything she´s saying personally, okay?”

“Personally?”

 Spencer raised his eyebrows. He desperately hoped [y/n] wouldn’t be a bitch the entire time, since he couldn’t promise to not give her a piece of his mind, if so.

“[y/n]´s a little belligerent…Easy to get triggered and then she blows up like a bomb.”, Tom said and JJ cocked her head. “Is the stalking getting at her?”, Leroy shook his head. “Not really. But her mother died a few months ago and since then…little rough patch. She´ll get better. We all hit rock bottom once.”

“Is she going to therapy?”, Emily asked straight forward, making Tom, the chubby one chuckle. “Not since she hit the last therapist a few years ago. We paid his medical expenses and he was nice enough to not sue her. But we are here to help her, once she´s ready to let us.” “Must be exhausting, for you.”, JJ said empathetic and all the men waved off.

“Because of the drugs? No, it´s not that bad. She´ll collect herself. I have seven kids. Four of them are going through puberty right now. Phil has a toddler and Leroy and Hank have three rescue dogs and a couple of snakes. We can handle her.”, Tom laughed and the rest of the men started too.

“And that little stalker…Imma just say, I´m gonna rip him a new one, should I ever get the chance of meeting him. Counts for all of us.”, Hank added with everyone nodding in agreement.

“[y/n]´s a really nice girl and she´s been through a lot. If you´re nice to her, chances are high she´ll warm up to you and you won´t have any problems.”, Tom said to Spencer making him nod.

“And if she doesn’t?”, the tall doctor didn’t get an answer and just witnessed the rockers share a look.

 Nice girl. Drug issues not so bad. Be nice and maybe she´s nice to you. For Spencer all of that sounded like he would have to walk around on eggshells, while she would blast through walls like a wrecking ball. The manager, Philip, checked his watch and looked around.

 “So, where´s [y/n]? One more song and we´re done. Would be great not to hold up the investigation for too long.”

“She went to the toilet thirty minutes ago. We just ate our sandwiches. She said she wasn’t hungry.”, Leroy answered and at the same moment [y/n] walked in.

 Spencer looked at her and for a moment forgot how to breathe. Short, high waisted, leather skirt, low cut, tank top and biker boots, all black, rounded off with fishnet stockings.  [y/n] looked like she had climbed out of a teenagers wet dream. The perfect, little goth-girlfriend. She stretched a little and Philip looked at her.

 “Bonjour, Philly.”, she said with a sassy undertone, while walking up to him and leaning on his shoulder. He was the same high as her, which wasn’t really tall, about 5,4, if Spencer had to guess.

“Hey, where were you?”, the pudgy man asked her.

“Took a nap in my car.”, she booped his nose and gave him a sheepish little smile. Spencer knew she was high. In fact the whole room knew it.

“You drove here?”, Tom asked shocked and [y/n] grinned sarcastically.

“I guess so, else somebody explain to me why my car´s here.”, Phillip patted her shoulder, looking worried as she took four pills out of an orange pillbox from her bag. He gave her a glass of water and she swallowed them. The men from her band looked at her concerned, making her give them a pearly white smile.

“Headache.”, she explained and they only nodded. Spencer couldn’t help but think, that she wasn’t having a headache and even if she had, it was probably a withdrawal symptom.

“You know that I don’t want you to drive when you´re…”, her manager looked at the agents and stopped talking, making her look at them as well.

“What? Why´d you stop talking? That the fun police?”, she started giggling at her own joke, making the band chuckle, since she clearly didn’t know how accurate she was with her joke.

“That´s the FBI, Princess.”, Hank told her and she made a fake shocked face and then laughed again.

“Officer- No wait, agents, right? I swear I did nothing wrong. Weed´s legal in Cali.”

 The team shared some looks and Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes. [y/n] was not just on weed. Most definitely not just on weed.

 “They are here because of your stalker.”, Philip explained and she shrugged almost disappointed.

“Oh, that guy. Well, then hello. Nice to meet you. I´m [y/n].”

 She shook hands with JJ and Emily as they introduced themselves. Luke couldn’t help but breathe in sharply, as he shook her hand and almost choked on his own spit as an aftereffect. She started patting his back with wide opened eyes.

 “Shit, you okay? Asthma?”, [y/n] reached into her black, designer handbag and gave him a bottle with clear liquid. Luke took a sip, quickly grimaced his face and began coughing harder.

“Vodka.”, he stated through his coughing. [y/n] quickly took the bottle from him and took a sip too, without flinching. She then started cracking up at her mistake.

“Whoops. Mixed up the bottles, the other´s probably in my car. Philly, can you bring him…?”, Philip nodded and gave Luke a fresh water bottle from the mini fridge.

 Wow. Vodka hidden in a water bottle. Spencer licked his lips, taking in the view of her bandmates looking at each other. ‘Not that bad’ looked different. ‘Not that bad’ would not have her sleeping in her car, midday, with a bottle of ‘water’ and coming back high as a kite. Luke, by now, had stopped coughing and [y/n] stepped away from him again.

 “You good?”, she asked him, watching him wipe away his tears.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.”, the black haired girl waved him off.

“Nah, don’t worry. I had asthma till I was twelve.”, he shook his head.

“I- I- No asthma. Just a really big fan.”, she started laughing again and although the light was dimmed, Reid could clearly see Luke´s cheeks turning red.

“Oh, that´s cute. But ‘Take My Breath Away’ is by Berlin.”, that sentence actually made the whole room laugh except for Spencer, who didn’t understand the reference. “What´s your name?”

“Luke Alvez.”, she shook his hand again, this time he didn’t almost choke.

“Well, nice to meet you, Luke. What´s your favorite song of ours?”

“25, no doubt. Really amazing. Like a James Bond song.”, the bandmates chuckled.

“We said that too.”, Leroy snickered, patting Luke´s shoulder and [y/n] nodded.

“It´s also my favorite. Excited to hear one of the new songs?”, Luke nodded excited and she turned her head to Spencer. “We both don’t know each other yet. Hi, I´m [y/n] and you are?”

 She sounded quite collected. Clearly high, but able to think straight if necessary. [y/n] must´ve been doing this for a while now, seeming to have figured out, how much she could handle while working. Spencer had been at that point too once. You wanted to do your work and be good at it, but needed to be high, to make it through the day. So you just tried over a period of time, bit by bit, how much you were able to take before doing a shitty job. ‘Not that bad’ didn’t make you figuring out a system to be high all the time.

 “Dr. Spencer Reid.”, he shook her hand.

“Dr. Reid will be your bodyguard, [y/n].”, Philip explained and quickly earned an angry look, as she let go of Spencer´s hand instantly.

“What? I don’t need a bodyguard, we talked about this.”, she hissed at her manager, but then started laughing after looking Spencer up and down. “And then that guy?”, Philip nodded as she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Do not take it personally’, Spencer told himself.

“I am more than capable of protecting you.”, he stated as friendly as possible, making her giggle.

“From what? A difficult math question?”

 [y/n] mocking tone started to piss him off, but as Spencer felt Emily´s look on him, he played it cool. After all, he had to proof himself able to handle her.

 “Your stalker.”, he corrected her and she licked her lips, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, looking at Luke.

“Since you don’t have asthma, would you mind if I…?”, Luke shook his head and she smiled. “Nice.”, she looked back at Spencer, at his gun. “Philip has a gun too.” “But Philip isn’t an FBI agent.”, Hank told her, making her shake her head in protest, like a little child.

“That´s ridiculous. And all of that just because a stranger sends me stuff, people send me stuff all the time.”

“You should be more worried about this guy.”, Leroy said and Tom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, what if he´s dangerous?”

“What´s the worst that could happen, like honestly, Doctor?”, she cocked her head at Spencer, looking up at him with an almost flirty smile.

“He could kill you.”, he gave back objectively, making the rockers obviously worried. “Geez. You make that sound like it´s a bad thing.”, she snickered and looked over to Luke. “Luke, wanna hear some music?”, he nodded.

“It would be an honor.”, his sentence made her giggle as she walked past him.

“You´re really cute.”

 [y/n] walked into the recording room, Tom, Leroy and Hank following her. She put on her headphones and lit a cigarette, putting the package on the little table next to her mic. Philip closed the door and started pushing some buttons on the sound mixer in front of him. JJ whistled impressed.

 “You do the technical stuff too?”, he nodded, chuckling.

“Since the stalking started, I try having as little people near [y/n] as possible. Thought it might just be a little crush from a weirdo and when he doesn’t get to see her, he gets over it.” “We need a list of the people that worked here though.”, Emily told him and he nodded.

“Of course.”, then he pushed a button and started talking into his microphone. “You guys, ready? Last song. ‘My Medicine’, then we can go home.”

 They all approved of his words and started to playing. [y/n] relighting her cigarette and clearing her throat. Spencer couldn’t tell if that was her simply not caring or doing it for the feeling of the song. However, it seemed to fit the style.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

“I love this already.”, Luke whispered and JJ chuckled.

“You haven’t even heard anything yet.”, she snickered.

“Doesn’t matter, the feeling is there.”, he lifted his arms, showing her his goosebumps.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

And somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

Spencer watched [y/n] starting to move to the rhythm, swaying her hips and tapping her left foot to the beat, then looked to Philip pressing some buttons.

 “She´s gonna be happy with that one.”, he whispered almost to himself and the next time Spencer looked at the band again, it almost felt like she was attentionally singing in his direction.

“Well I drink what you leak and I smoke what you sigh

See you cross the room with that look in your eye

Got a man to his left and a girl to his right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

She started moving her head in a way that made her long black hair fall in her face, framing her features almost delicately. While Spencer starred and earned some grins from [y/n], he could hear Luke whisper with Emily, who actually seemed to like the music too.

“There's a tiger in the room and a baby in the closet”

The room laughed and Spencer looked confused, having JJ tell him, that it was a movie reference. Sometime he felt like an alien, having such simple references fly over his head. Star Trek or Book references would´ve been easier for him…although he still didn’t know what that ‘Twilight’ book was Penelope and JJ talked about a couple of times. Or that other book all the women had talked about in their break….what was it called, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’? They had told him it was a romance novel, so he just assumed it was like ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen.

“Pour another drink mom I don't even want it

Then I turn around and think I see someone that looks like you”

Philip pressed some buttons again, [y/n] now harmonizing with herself.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again again

And somebody mixed my medicine

Again, again, again

Again, again, again

Again, again, again”

The music started to slow down again, just like [y/n] movements, making Luke whisper words in awe.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

Philip and the team applauded as [y/n] took her headphones off and the men put their instruments away.

 “I´m happy with that.”, she said looking at Philip. “You, Philly?”

“Sounded great to me.”, he gave back, happy to answer.

“What about my new favorite fan. Luke?”, Luke quickly pushed Spencer aside to get to the microphone.

“Loved every second of it! Like- Amazing! Really!”, she giggled, throwing her head back and came through the door.

“What about my new guard dog?”, Spencer pointed at himself, not knowing if she was talking about him. “Of course you. So, what do you think, Doctor?”

“I- I don’t really know.”, she raised her eyebrows at his answer.

“Okay? Was it the drugs or just the music in general?”, he felt himself go pale. “Ah, okay. You´re prude, get it. I mean you already have that whole tutor-thing about you, so…Bach or Chopin?”

“Pardon?” “Which one? Or is it Mozart, or the deaf bitch, Beethoven?”, she grinned snarky.

 [y/n] had a mocking tone in her voice, making Spencer feel embarrassed and like he was in school again, when the other kids in high school were making fun of him for not being cool enough. But he was too old to be bullied by a little junkie, who thought she was better than him.

 “I´m surprised somebody like you would even know them.”, her smile vanished.

“Little bitch.”, she snapped at him, stepping closer as he cocked his eyebrows at her. Philip quickly walked between the two of them and smiled.

“So, what are we doing next? The albums done. Taken care of. [y/n] have you eaten something today? You wanna go out for dinner?”

“No, I haven’t and no, I don’t want to, when THAT is around.”, with ‘that’ she clearly meant Spencer.

“Now don’t be grumpy, Princess. You started it.”, Hank told her and she started to pout, shoulders relaxing.

“Wasn’t worth my time anyways.”, she murmured and Spencer felt himself getting proud. This was the first person, trying to bully him, he had stand a chance against.

“So, we´re gonna need you at the police station, if that´s okay?”, Emily asked Leroy, Hank and Tom, who nodded. “And Spencer, you should take [y/n] home and check out her house.” “Mansion.”, [y/n] corrected Emily. “I have a mansion. Worked too hard to have it being called a house.”, Emily only nodded, not letting herself get bothered by her words. Philip nodded, completely ignoring his clients snappiness too.

“I follow you in my car.”, he told Spencer. “[y/n] give Dr. Reid your keys, please.”, she shook her head indignant.

“No. That guy is not driving my car. I´ll drive.”, the whole band now started saying no.

“[y/n], you´re not driving.”, Tom ordered and Leroy nodded. “You´ll get an DUI so quick, it´s not even funny.”, Spencer lifted his hand, waiting for the key. “Oh, come on.”, she groaned, looking at her bandmates like her childish behavior would change their mind.

 A nice sound. An annoying person, not getting what they want. Almost as beautiful as her [y/e/c] eyes, that actually were rather bloodshot, when Spencer thought about it.

 “Should the police pull you over and see that you´re high, they´ll look through your car and I don’t think you want be taking in custody for drug possession, right?”, she handed him her keys and Spencer couldn’t help it and whispered “Thank you”, in the most mocking tone he was able to.

“Fucking cunt.”, she whispered back at him and he just chuckled.

“I´ve been called worse. So your little words don’t hurt me…sorry.”, she then grinned.

“Things like Spencer?”, [y/n] asked him, spitting his name like poison.

 Spencer took a deep breath and watched her go out the door, telling himself to not answer her.

 “Hey, kid.”, Spencer looked at Hank and he just lifted his thumb.

“You held yourself better than we thought you would.”, Leroy added, Emily looking at Spencer concerned.

“You sure you can handle her?”

 He nodded, walking out the door and to the elevator which doors [y/n] was holding open for him.

 “Hurry up, bitch boy! I wanna go home.”

 *****

 Of course the rich, spoiled brat drove an imported sportscar. When Spencer got in, he firstly had to push back the seat, not having enough room for his legs and then tried getting [y/n] to tell him where she lived.

 “Try google, smart ass.”, was her answer and he sighed.

 [y/n] then rolled down her window and grabbed a joint from her glove compartment. Spencer quickly leaned over and snatched it from her hand, making her whine as she tried getting it back.

 “You´re such a bitch. Give me-“, he interrupted her whining.

“No. First tell me you´re address.”, she sat back into her seat.

“Fine. I´ll lead you there.”, [y/n] said, making grabbing motions with her hand and he handed her the joint back. She lit it and smoked out of the window.

 Spencer knew he should have questioned why she gave up and let him win so easily. After ten minutes they weren’t at her mansion, they were at a McDonald´s.

 “You´re fucking kidding me, right?”, he snapped at her and she began to giggle.

“You´re kina hot when you´re angry.”, her flirty grin and the way she bit her lip made him furious, because it was hot.

“What is wrong with you?”, Spencer almost yelled and she leaned back and pointed somewhere. “I´m hungry. Drive-Through. Over there.”

“No.” “Come on. Don’t be a bitch, dog.”, she snickered, resting her feet on the dashboard.

 He looked at her, for a second thinking about simply getting out of the car and leaving, before he could hurt her. Maybe she was really too much for him to handle, the drugs were manageable, but it was her personality that drove him mad, yet he wasn’t someone to give up easily. Cars started to honk behind them.

 “You´re holding up the traffic. I just wanted something to eat.”, [y/n] said, now almost annoyed because she wasn’t getting what she wanted. Spencer took a deep breath.

“Okay.”, she looked at him confused.

“Okay?”, he nodded, pulling into the Drive-Through. He was above this. ‘Give her what she wants, so she´s at least quiet.’

“You win.”

 She started clapping and hugged him, smelling like marijuana and something he couldn’t quite make out. When they came up to the microphone box, [y/n] crawled over Spencer´s lap, forcing him to look and think respectfully. She ordering a bunch of stuff and then looked at him.

 “What do you want? I only have booze at home, so…”, he looked at her a little startled. Was she trying to be nice to him?

“You wanna buy me something?”, she nodded like this behavior was normal to her. “Sure.”

“Surprise me. I never eat fast food, I don’t know what´s good.”

 She nodded and then told the voice from the box to double her order. Sitting back into her seat, [y/n] took out a hundred dollar bill from her purse, handing it to Spencer. When they pulled up by the window, taking their things, the woman in the window nearly lost it when she saw the rockstar, starting to cry. [y/n] was really nice to her and asked her if she wanted to take a photo in the parking lot. Of course the woman said yes and after paying, where [y/n] had left almost fifty bucks as a tip, Spencer had to park and wait till they had made the photo and given an autograph.

 “Okay, now drive before it goes viral. I wanna eat that stuff before it gets cold.”, she told him, taking a sip of one of the milkshakes.

“That was nice.”, she shrugged and then told him her address, telling him she´d scream when they reached it.

 *****

 Lo and behold, no twenty minutes later they parked in front of [y/n] mansion, next to another, more run down car, belonging to Philip. The mansion would´ve made Rossi´s mansion cry. At least twice as big and the property was enormous. In contrast to [y/n], it was very light and minimalistic from the outside and the inside.

 “Most rooms are empty. Too big.”, she explained walking straight into the open living area, that had a large terrace with pool and a view over the Hollywood hills. She put the paper bags filled with food on the large kitchen island and sat on a barstool.

“You could sell it and buy a smaller one.”, [y/n] shrugged and took out a burger, starting to eat it.

“Philip says I´m gonna grow into it.”, she answered, mocking the tone of voice her manager had probably had.

 Spencer watched her type something on her phone and a minute later Philip came into the room.

 “Hey, where were you? I got worried.”, he asked them and [y/n] handed him a salad.

“It´s the one you always have.”, he smiled at her.

“Thank you. You´re so nice.”, she shrugged at his words, not really caring.

“Yours is in here too, dog.”, she now told spencer.

 Ah, yes. She was being bitchy again. Spencer had only waited for it to happen. He said nothing, but walked up to the white kitchen isle and took the bag she pointed at.

 “Milkshake, burger, fries. Fast food essentials.”, she stated, finishing her small cheeseburger and getting up to her fridge, taking out a beer. She held it to Spencer who declined and then to Philip who did the same. “Lame asses.”, she chuckled, opening it and standing at the counter, watching Spencer eat. “So you´re here for…?”

“Technically it would be the easiest for all of us, if I just stayed.”, she raised her brows.

“Staying like, in my house staying?”, he nodded and she shook her head. “No chance. I enjoy my solitude.”

“[y/n]. If it´s easier for the agent and better for you…”, she sighed, opening a drawer and taking out some pills, swallowing them with her beer. “Fucking hell. But don´t expect me to be considerate of you.”, the rockstar told him.

“Should you consume them with alcohol?”, Spencer asked, taking a bite of his burger and she shrugged.

“I´m going to sleep…you guys…do what you want, I don’t care…”

“Do you need me to do your laundry?”, Philip asked and [y/n] shrugged again, it seemed to be her favorite motion. As she walked down the hallways and Phillip yelled after her. “Don’t forget that you have a gig tonight, [y/n]!”

“THAT`S WHY I`M GOING TO SLEEP NOW, DUMB ASS! WAKE ME UP WHEN WE NEED TO GO!”, she yelled back, followed by the smashing of a door.

 “She´s a nice girl.”, Philip said in the middle of the silence, as Spencer took place on one of the barstools.

“Like a car crash.”, the man in his fifties chuckled.

“I know she´s difficult, but in here she´s good.”, he pointed at his heart. “She has suffered a lot of losses in her life.”

“Then, just as a random thought, you should get into therapy before she OD´s.”, Spencer answered sassy.

“I know what you mean. But as long as she doesn’t want help or overdoes it…she has a system.”, Spencer let his head fall back and groaned.

“You know about that fucking thing?” “You too?”, Philip asked back in surprise. “Profiler. Took me no longer than the nap in her car, to figure that out.”

 Yes, a small lie from Spencer, but it sounded better then: Oh yes, I was addicted to dilaudid once. I had a system too!

 “Tell me, how does that train wreck of a system work?”, Philip leaned back from his salad.

“Well, she takes her painkillers in the morning and smokes some cannabis to get out of bed. When we´re touring or she has to be at shootings, interviews or anything else that needs her to focus, she only smokes and takes the pills all day, alcohol in water bottles is a new one though.”, Spencer sighed and thought if he even wanted to know more.

“And when she´s alone or not busy?” “Then she does the harder stuff.” “Harder stuff like cocaine, LSD…?”, Philip nodded. “Nothing with needles though…she´s scared of them.”

“She will not always be, if she continues like that.” “I know. That´s why I do my best to keep her busy. She even has her own recording studio here, knows how to handle everything herself. I thought it might make her spend more time making music than getting high. I also go out with her a lot, to a point where my wife starts to get jealous.”, he laughed bittersweetly. “Have you ever been to Disney World, agent?”, Spencer shook his head. “I take [y/n] there once a week, because she likes it there. I spend more time with her there then with my own daughter.”, [y/n] was famous, no chance people wouldn’t notice her.

“Does she even get to do anything there?”

“Not often. She mostly meets her fans there, but she loves that a lot. She is really sweet to them too, they mean everything to her.”

 That was the first time Philip had said something that was true about [y/n]. She had, not once been mean to a fan. The complete opposite actually. She had been nice and thoughtful, going out of her way to make the woman at the Drive-Through happy and was nice to Luke.

 “I know she was a little mean to you today, but she also bought us food, seeing it as a matter of course. There are two sides to every person, like a coin.”, Like a coin, just that [y/n] sides flipped as quickly like one too. Philip sighed and got up from his barstool. “I´ll show you around a little, if you want to.”

 Spencer nodded, getting up, following the short man around the house.

 *****

 [y/n] had been right.

It was way too big and many of the rooms were empty. When Spencer asked Philip about the necessity of such a big mansion, he told him, that he had hoped to motivate [y/n] to have a family one day. But now the only rooms in use were her bedroom, one of the five guest bedrooms, which Spencer got to stay in, the open living area with kitchen and living room, the recording studio and a little library. The latter made Spencer a little jealous. In the middle of the room even stood a white piano with notes on it. [y/n] also had a lot of books, all dusty, because she never read anymore. He would´ve killed to have his own library…she probably didn’t even value what she had.

 When they returned into the living area, Philip gave Spencer some spare keys, beginning to clean up a little and putting the food in the fridge. [y/n] didn’t lie, when she said, she only had alcohol at home. JJ came over and brought Spencer his go bag, asking him how it was going. Of course he said he was doing great, but couldn’t help but rant to her about [y/n]´s behavior.

 “Well, she is an addict, Spence. You know how erratic some drugs can make you.”, he nodded.

“Yeah, but she really tries pushing me and then, one second to the other, she´s nice and polite. Have you talked to her bandmates?”, JJ laughed.

“Way too long. We had interviews with them and then Luke just couldn’t stop talking to them, he has also taken about a million pictures with them and facetimed Penelope so she could meet them too.”, Spencer chuckled.

“Sounds like they had a good time. Anything else happened? Found out something?”

“[y/n]´s mother was an addict and left the family when she was younger. When she found out her daughter was famous, she got back in touch with her, to borrow money. [y/n] didn’t care and even got her to live with her, in one of the guest bedrooms. She overdosed a few months ago, since then [y/n]´s addiction got worse.”, Spencer´s eyes got wide.

“She didn’t die in the guest bedroom though, right?”

 Just as JJ wanted to answer, [y/n] walked in. Philip walking behind her with a duffle bag.

 “She died in the bathroom and she didn’t overdose perse, she drowned after falling unconscious in the bathtub, while being high.”, she answered cold, seeming to have overheard their conversation. [y/n] grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued calmly while taking some colorful pills. “I found her. The bathroom that it happened in is always locked. Don´t worry.”, Philip fidgeted a little with his hands, looking for his keys.

“Uh-Uhm. Agents? We need to go. The concert…”

“You coming too?”, [y/n] asked, looking at JJ and she shrugged. “We could also invite the cute one…Luke. It´s about 20.000 people so two more won´t hurt…right Philly?”, Phillip nodded.

“You´re all invited. SSA Prentiss as well.”, he said and JJ smiled at them.

“Thank you. That´s very nice, but I´ll have to talk to them first.”, [y/n] shrugged at that and drank her beer.

“You have my number, just call when you know. We start half past eight.”, Philip then took the empty beer bottle from [y/n] and threw it away. “Show time.”

 *****

 Half an hour into the concert Luke had shown up, completely hyped.

 “What did I miss? We had some ex-staff members to talk to. Did they already play ‘Going to Hell’?”, Spencer nodded. “Argh, dammit. Doesn’t matter, that song´s amazing too.”

 During the whole concert Spencer watched [y/n]. The music wasn’t that bad, a little harsh, but it was mix of hard and alternative rock after all. At least that´s what Penelope said, when Luke started facetiming her. After the last costume change, Spencer pulled [y/n] aside. He asked her to not be so ‘touchy’ with her fans. Since she would kneel down and hold their hands. He tried telling her about the risks of having the unsub in the audience, but she only laughed.

 “I´ll be as touchy as I want, bitch.”, he started to frown.

“At least don’t stagedive. Luke says you always do that and the risk of the unsub use-“, she interrupted him, wanting to go on stage.

“Fuck off, dog.”, he held her arm, trying to reason with her.

“Can you ple-“, she tried pulling away, like an angry child.

“No.” “Stop being so fuck-“, [y/n] interrupted him again.

“Stop trying to fucking babysit me.”

“I just want to hel-“, she ripped her arm away. “Yeah, fuck you too.”, the rockstar answered, not letting him finish and walked back on stage.

 Philip walked up to Spencer, having seem the ordeal of him trying to talk to [y/n] and him now  driving the heel of his palm into his eyes. This girl gave him migraines.

 “What happened?”, Philip asked and Luke answered for Spencer.

“He told her not to stagedive.”, Philip laughed a little and shook his head.

“Oh yeah. Never tell her what to do. She hates that and then does it out of spite.”

“You don’t say?”, Spencer answered sarcastically.

 On stage [y/n] took her microphone, saying something to her bandmates and then smiling sweetly, while talking to her fans.

 “This next song is for my lovely new babysitter, who thinks he can tell me what to do.”, the crowd started booing and she laughed. “I know, I know. But it looks like he doesn’t know how things work around here…So I think we have to help him out a little.”

 The music started to play and Luke patted Spencer´s arm.

“She dedicates ‘Heaven Knows’ to you! Penny have you heard? She sings ‘Heaven Knows’ for Reid!”

“NO! SHUT UP!”, the blonde on the phone squeaked.

 He and Garcia started to freak out while Spencer watched [y/n] clapping her thigh and stomping to the beat.

“Jimmy's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close, you can hear him cry

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Sing it!”

She lifted the mic to her audience she started to sing for her.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below, way down below, way down below

“Judy's in the front seat picking up trash

Livin' on the dole, gotta make that cash

Won't be pretty, won't be sweet

She's just sittin' here on her feet singin'

Oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Go!”

Again her fans obeyed her, Luke and Penelope freaking out next to Spencer. If it wouldn’t have been a moment, were he had to fear which move she had planned next to unnerve him, he might have even enjoyed this song and the involvement of her fans in it.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

“Sing, oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below”

She now looked at him for a moment, while her audience sang. Before, again, walking around the stage, touching her fans hands.

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've had better days, man, I've seen better days

I've had better ways, man, I know better ways

One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door

Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie

Show your life with your head held high

Now you're on your knees with a head on low

Big man tells you where to go

Tell them it's good, tell 'em ok

Don't do a goddamn thing they say”

Spencer was surprised how well her fans knew her lyrics. She would just have to point at them or lift her mic and they would instantly sing were she stopped. Not missing a beat.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've seen better ways, and I know better ways

I've seen better days, man, I've got better days”

[y/n] now stood at the edge of the stage, back turned to her audience. She smiled directly at Spencer, fingers held like a gun to her head.

“Gina's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close you can hear the cryin'”

At the last word she mimicked shooting herself and let herself fall back into the crowd. Her fans got wild and continued her song, while Spencer certainly not in a long time, if ever, felt so much spite and frustration against a woman, other than Cat Adams.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Singin' oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

The crown placed [y/n] back on her stage, where she walked up to her bandmates again, waving at Spencer and Luke with the sweetest smile.

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

 *****

 After the concert and the encores she and the band got behind stage, where Spencer for the least thirty minutes had waited to give her a piece of his mind. As [y/n] giggled and walked up to him and Luke. He grabbed her arm, a little harsher than planned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, she blinked at his yelling, answering with her innocent eyes blinking and a mocking tone.

“What´s the prob, dog?”

“What´s- Do you really care so little for your own safety?”, Hank came up to them, having seen Spencer´s grip on the girls arm.

“Hey! What´s going on here? [y/n], are you okay?”, Spencer quickly let go of her.

“Yeah, the dog is just pissing himself because I stage dived.”, he quickly took a deep breath.

“I´m not pissing myself, [y/n], but I told you not to do it. What would you have done when your stalker would´ve been in the crowd and lost it? Nobody would´ve been able to get to you fast enough and help!”, Hank looked at her in disappointed shock.

“Is that true, [y/n]?”, the black haired girl ignored her friend and just continued arguing with Spencer.

“Well, maybe I don’t want anybody’s help!”, she hissed at Spencer.

“Then why are we even here?”, Spencer hissed back. “BECAUSE I BRING MONEY! Else the label would let me rot in a fucking corner! GOD! You are ruining my after-show-high. I hate you!”, [y/n] yelled and Spencer tried not to yell back, tried to be the bigger person, only hissing back at her.

“Oh, trust me. That feeling is mutual.”, she swallowed hard and then turned around, stomping away.

 *****

After half an hour waiting, Spencer got a call from Philip, telling him that [y/n] refused to see him again and would be sleeping at his house tonight. He told him, that he should just let himself into the mansion and eat what´s in the fridge. It wasn’t from use, to try talking to [y/n], when she was that angry. Tomorrow Philip would call him and bring her back into Spencer´s care.

Spencer did as told, Luke driving him to the mansion, telling him that it wasn’t his fault. He then got into the large, empty mansion and grabbed himself a well-deserved beer. Being alone in this big house was depressing. After his third beer he stopped, walking into his room.

He pulled his blue and gold sobriety token, he had gotten for being clean ten years, out of his bag. Thumb rubbing over the golden X in the middle of it. He actually had deserved a twelve year token by now, but since prison didn’t actively attended the meetings anymore, having grown past it. Yet, he still kept the tokens he had, close to him.

They reminded him of his achievement, reminded him to be proud at himself.

Spencer never wanted to fall back into the dark hole he was in, when he was addicted, and even when [y/n] would throw tantrum after childish tantrum, she wouldn’t cause him to relapse. He was stronger than this. Stronger than her.

To be continued...

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Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]

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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

[wellbutrin-shakes]

OMGCP leverage au

Jack is a former insurance investigator, chasing after con-men. He struggled with anxiety and his high intensity job, and accidentally overdosed on his anxiety medications after a particularly rough case. When he comes back to work afterwards he is immediately fired on some bullshit excuse but he knew that the company was “embarrassed” by his public overdose. Without his job to devote all his time to, his life kind of fell apart and he struggles even more with his anxiety, maybe leaning even heavier on benzos.

Some rich CEO approaches him with a job- his competitor stole his patent and he assembled a team to steal it back. He just needs a “good guy” to watch over them and make sure they don’t fuck him over. Jack isn’t interested in returning to that kind of work, doesn’t want to make his anxiety worse than it already is. But this competitor is insured by his old company, and well he can’t turn down a chance to screw them over in revenge.

So Jack takes the job and meets up with this assembled team-

“Shitty”- thief. No one knows his real name. Jack thinks he’s crazy, Instantly tries to become Jack’s best friend, which annoys Jack because he views Shitty as a criminal and considers himself to be ‘above’ that (for now).

“Holster”- hitter. Impressive track record working security for mobs. He and Ransom becomes best friends immediately. Honestly it takes him a while to stop viewing Jack as a narc.

“Ransom”- hacker. Has been a computer genius since a young age. Once they form Samwell he struggles with anxiety about the team being physically in danger while he is in the getaway van with his computer. Holster helps him through it by reassuring him that he can keep everyone safe

The plan goes smoothly and they are able to get the patents back to the CEO. But then he tries to kill them, and they realize they’ve been tricked to steal another company’s original plans for that asshole and he tried to tie up loose ends. Jack devises a plan to get back at him, but he already knows all of their faces so they need a new grifter to pull this off.

Enter Bitty.

Shitty knows him from some previous con, and claims that he’s the best local guy. He brings them all to the small theater Bitty is performing at, trying to be an actor now that he is out of the con game. They watch him perform on stage and he is just. TERRIBLE. He is an incredible con man, but cannot act on stage to save his life because he gets too in his head. Jack is pissed because they need a real grifter in order to pull this off, and he doesn’t trust Bitty at all. Shitty manages to convince him to give Bitty a chance, considering they’ve got a tight timeline. So Bitty joins the team, and even though Jack is an asshole Shitty, Ransom, and Holster are all nice and welcome him in.

They start the con and Bitty just wows Jack with how smooth his acting is. He’s a completely different person than the guy that was on stage. Jack realizes that they actually can pull this off.

They do, and they end up humiliating the CEO and destroying the company. As FBI agents walk out of his office with box after box of evidence, the crew stands outside the window and waves at him. Ransom has the forethought to put money in the stock market since he knows the company will go under, and the whole crew makes like a gazillion dollars. Enough to retire.

At first Jack is all “One show only. No encores.” But he realizes that he actually wasn’t that anxious during the con (once he realized Bitty knew what he was doing). Actually, being the mastermind behind the plan gave him control, and he didn’t even need a benzo the last few days. So he kind of shyly mentions that this was kind of fun, and maybe they could do it again sometime? And of course the whole team agrees, because they’re all lonely working alone and none of them have had this much fun on a job ever. So they start up a hotline to help people who have been fucked over by the rich and powerful and form their own Robin Hood gang- Samwell.

((Btw Kent would Sterling + Maggie in this- Jack’s old partner at the insurance agency.  They used to hook up on the DL, and they were amazing at their job but were a completely dysfunctional, competitive relationship.  He offers Jack a job to return to the agency and be his partner again, and Jack turns him down because he has a purpose and a family and is actually happy now. Kent vows to track them down and wants to use the threat of arresting he team to force Jack into coming back and working with him. He never is able to bc the team is smarter than him and Bitty will leave little passive aggressive messages whenever he gets close- Kent bursts into an “abandoned” warehouse yelling “Gotcha!”, only to find it is actually abandoned. Except for a pie sitting in the middle of the floor, still warm, with a note “Better luck next time xoxo”))

The next job they do requires a forged piece of artwork- they hire Lardo, a well-known forger. At first she thinks this is just a one-off, but the team (especially Shitty) all love her and ask her to join the crew. She’s also great at graphic design and all the other stuff that goes into making a believable cover (basically all that extra stuff Hadison does: costumes, props etc.) She eventually starts learning some thieving skills from Shitty too. And she starts experimenting more with her own original artwork, which hangs on every wall in HQ.

They eventually run into Dex, Nursey, and Chowder- a trio of hitter/hacker/grifter. Maybe they were after the same mark? They’re younger than the Samwell crew so they take them under their wing. Dex and Nursey are always bickering like Elliot and Hardison- “Nobody throws Nursey off a roof…. Except maybe me”.

Jack still struggles with anxiety, especially during tough jobs and close calls. He thinks that if they get caught it is all his fault since he came up with the plans (and Kent’s threats don’t help). The team helps him understand that they all know the risks and they follow him anyway because they trust him and he is a good person who wants to help good people who get screwed over by powerful rich assholes. They would gladly go to prison for that- they were all criminals working alone before. Now they are a family with a purpose, plus they still get to do crimes! It’s a win-win.

Okay so Bitty has a problem with physicality, and is super afraid of getting beat up on a job. One job Jack makes a risky play, and Bitty ends up getting hurt. Jack is furious with himself for letting it happen and putting the success of the con before Bitty’s safety. Afterwards he takes it upon himself to teach Bitty self-defense. Holster offers to do it, but Jack feels personally responsible and wants to do it himself. Bitty is appreciative, but also very intimidated by Jack. Over time though he gets better and better and the first time he punches someone on the job Jack almost kissed him right then and there.

Jack just goes “Oh.” And tries to keep ignoring it until one night the sexual tension between them becomes too much. And then Jack freaks out, because they last time he was hooking up with someone he worked with it was a disaster. But he realizes that he wants this so much, and Bitty does too, and they eventually get together. They try to hide it from the team for a while, to avoid messing with the dynamic, but they’re not very good at hiding it so the team figures it out pretty quickly.

Also I want Jack “who the fuck is Eric?” to keep trying to guess Bitty’s first name while the whole team already knows, a la Nate and Sophie. Bitty agrees to marry him when Jack finally proposes using the right name (which takes forever).

The Leverage hockey episode!!!!!!! Obsessed with the idea of Bitty telling Jack he stole the Stanley Cup.

[lovelyirony]

Could I get number 30 "Why is arson always your first answer?" With winteriron?

England wasn’t necessarily Tony’s favorite place to be. For one thing, Pepper always asked for some sort of collection of Burberry scarves, and Tony would rather die than step foot in a store, but Pepper is the one who makes sure he gets out of countries and into countries as discreetly as possible. 

For another, England usually means either expensive art or expensive jewelry, and art is a bitch to get out of an event if you haven’t worked up a back story for the last year, and jewelry is...well. People are bound to notice if it’s famous enough. 

This go-round, it’s art. A rare miniature of a high-society woman, someone Tony doesn’t at all care about. He has a buyer from the middle of nowhere Montana, and he’s not sure why a cowboy from Montana cares about this so much, but he offered a pretty steep salary for Tony, so here he is. 

The thing is this: Tony Stark is not known as a thief. No. He is known as a reclusive billionaire who only comes out of his house, like, once a year to mourn his parents. 

Except he doesn’t do that, that’s just the yearly walk that he lets them notice and take pictures of. 

Anthony Carbonell is known as an elusive thief who likes to make fun of every single agent of any organization that attempts to track him or the works that he’s stolen. It’s cute, honestly. 

Agent James Barnes is the newest hire at SHIELD Protection, which moonlights as an insurance agency. 

His newest job is one that no one else has managed to complete: capture Anthony Carbonell, and protect the newest artwork. 

It’s sending him to England. He has to wear a suit and everything, and he’s not exactly excited about it. 

All they know is that he’s dark-haired, is shorter than six feet, and has a penchant for playing practical jokes on the agents when they end up not capturing him. 

- 

Barnes touches down in England, follows one of their British agents to a safe-house, and gets out the tuxedo. 

God help this night. 

- 

Tony usually isn’t thrown for a loop when it comes to guests at high society auctions. Most everyone is publicly known, or at least known when they should be known. 

There’s a new man in town. 

Tony can’t deny that he has the nicest looks he’s ever seen. A jaw that won’t quit, eyes that seem to observe everything, and a tasteful bun drawn at the back of his head. He also fills out a tuxedo quite nicely. 

Something about him screams danger. Tony smiles to himself in his cocktail; he’ll keep his eyes on that man, so far as everything goes to plan. 

- 

Bucky can feel eyes on him, but he can’t tell if it’s because he’s technically new to all of this, or if it’s because Anthony is here and he already knows. 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew as soon as he walked in that Anthony would be here, and he would be aware. But he’s not really going to focus on the people milling about. He sticks close to the miniature, observing the security measures. 

Or lack of. 

The security measures are barely there. If Bucky could cause a distraction in the room, or maybe pull a fire alarm, he could easily abscond with it. 

He assumes that’s why the band is in another room. He had read the reports that Clint had managed to nick; the band was supposed to be playing in the room, but an anonymous guest had suggested that the acoustics were better in a room adjacent. 

He’s pretty sure that Anthony had recommended that, wherever he was. It’s not like any of the rich people would have had common sense enough to call ahead and ask about the placement of the band, and take into account the arch of the room with the acoustics of a violin. 

It’s smart, honestly. Everyone is dancing, they want to notice what other people are wearing so that they can either discreetly copy them later or make a laughing stock of them in about six minutes, give or take, and no one will notice if someone who wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place slips out. 

He’s not exactly wrong. 

But Tony has been working for an exclusive catering company for two months. Very fun stuff. He learned that he will never want to eat another crab cake again, and he learned how to improvise descriptions for food that is essentially chicken fingers and ketchup. 

Barnes is looking for someone who looks like they fit in. And Tony does, just...not in the way that he actually knows how to do. 

If he was high society, he’d be recognized immediately; everyone still knows how Howard smiled, how Maria moved around the room with the practiced grace of someone raised to be a fun little accessory on your arm. 

Tony has both of those attributes, and if people actually noticed others, they would clock him easily. 

-

He got bold. 

Too bold. 

He was serving appetizers, and he offers one to the new guy on the block. 

“Care for one?” he asks, eyes timidly looking up, energy nervous. 

“Thank you,” New Guy says, and he looks at Tony directly in the eyes. “I appreciate it.” 

No one thanks you at events like these. 

And no one looks at you. 

This was the mistake. 

-

His features are umistakable, Bucky decides. The way his head tilted when he offered the food, the way his eyes look at his, and they’re not used to being looked back at. 

It almost fooled him. Almost. 

But most who work for the upper class learn early on from someone or another that you don’t look, even if you know that they won’t spare you the time of day. 

He’s tempting the odds, and he’s exactly the kind of person who would do it. 

Bucky has Anthony Carbonell’s face memorized, from the surprisingly warm brown eyes to the way he walks away. 

- 

Tony has blown this mission. He knows it. He fucking knows that SHIELD knows who he is right now. 

He texts Pepper, incorrect grammar and everything: 

tell guy job is over. i can refund him for inconvenience. 

what do you mean, over? 

been had. :( 

i don’t like that that’s your reaction. but get out of there, whatever means necessary. i can’t get you out of there until tomorrow morning, or i lose the deposit on your room . 

srsly??????? 

yes, seriously. the woman who let us rent it was very specific about two-day-stay. in the mean time, maybe grab a bottle of wine or something. how are you going to escape? 

well...

don’t you dare

-

Arson is an art that has to be carefully done, if you were wondering. You can just decide to do it, but you need to have some experience for it. 

Tony has. Kind of. 

He has a matchbook from a local hotel that he went into, and it’s been tucked into a pocket of his pants, and he is currently debating if he can actually finish the job or not. 

“Is arson always your first answer?” 

Shit. 

“Uh, smoke break?” Tony asks, knowing that it’s a Very Stupid Excuse because he doesn’t have any cigarettes. 

“Be real with yourself,” Barnes says. “You also have a very unfortunate British accent, as in it sounds terrible.” 

“My apologies if I didn’t work on it,” Tony says. “I’ve been too busy with...other things. Speaking of which, you’re new to SHIELD, aren’t you?” 

“You’re my first mission.” 

“How unfortunate.” 

“And why is that?” 

Tony smiles at him, and it’s disarming how genuine it looks. How genuine it is. (Bucky’s been able to spot a fake smile since he was seven and his mother let Mormons into their house. He knows a lot of things.) 

“Well, darling dearest, I’m going to make my escape.” 

“And you’re saying I can’t find you?” 

“Oh, you’ll find me. You’ll see me everywhere.” 

Tony then proceeds to kiss the ever-living hell out of Barnes. 

It is probably the best kiss of his life, honestly. 

And it leaves him dazed. 

Dazed enough that Tony only has a light jogging-pace as he makes his escape, stealing one of the various Rolls Royce cars that is parked underneath a brilliantly-lit lamp. 

- 

Bucky keeps thinking about that line, about seeing him everywhere. 

He doesn’t know what it means. He describes Anthony Carbonell to a sketch artist, they ask around, and then there’s Friday. 

Friday. 

It’s the day everything becomes clearer and yet infinitely more complicated, because Anthony was right. 

Tony Stark is dedicated to a more “transparent’ image for his company. He’s stepped into the limelight, and all the attention is on him. Everyone in the world is stalking his every move. 

It’s smart. Bold and risky if any former clients have seen his face, although Bucky has no doubt that he has enough money to make sure they go away quietly. 

It means that he can’t be touched. For at least one year, maybe two. 

God, it’s smart. Be so well-known that even the secret agencies would be found if they even attempted to reach you. 

- 

Pepper thinks Tony is God’s Given Idiot. 

Arson probably would have been the better choice. It’s not like the building didn’t have insurance, and it’s not like the fire would have lasted for that long. 

Instead, Tony has decided to make himself internationally known and request a meeting with the guy who could have ended his career, and still could if he talked to the right people. 

-

Sam thinks knows that Bucky is God’s Given Idiot. 

He agrees to the fucking meeting. 

It’s a well-known, public restaurant. It means that Barnes is going to be well-known, or at least photographed from an angle that’s unflattering. 

He should’ve debated, should have fought for a secluded place, or at least somewhere on their turf. God, that would’ve been an iota smarter. 

- 

They both sit down. Peruse a menu that neither are interested in. 

Bucky is wondering what the procedure is on leftovers. And if he’s paying for his own bill in this. He was invited, but with everything going on, he’s not sure. 

Tony sits across from him. Tony, with a now-distinctive goatee, an easy elegance, and a satisfied look in his eyes. 

“You amaze me, James.” 

“Bucky.” 

“I refuse to call you that out of respect for humanity.” 

“I don’t answer to James.” 

“Then what about another nickname, hm?” Tony asks. 

“Like what?” 

“Take your pick. You could be honey, darling, or love. Or something more creative, although if it’s kinky, I’d like it in writing before I refer to you in public with that, so-” 

“James is fine.” 

“Knew it would be,” Tony says smugly. “So. Let’s talk about the fact that you know my dirty little secret.” 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘little’, would you?” 

“It’s a hobby.” 

“Rich people steal shit as a hobby?” 

“Usually not with my methods, but yes,” Tony says. “They usually do it with the careful guidance of the IRS or some shit.” 

Bucky does a little laugh at that one. 

Their waiter comes out, jovially asks how their day is going. 

“Oh it’s going magnificently,” Tony says, peering up through violet-tinted glasses. “How is yours...Lincoln?” 

“Brilliant,” Lincoln responds with a large smile. “What can I get you to drink? Our seasonal cocktail is to die for, and if you’re not in the mood for a cocktail, the cider is simply divine...” 

It’s mundane conversation. 

Tony Stark is a thief who goes by (went by?) Anthony Carbonell, and he’s listening to Lincoln the Waiter talk about seasonal drinks and desserts. 

It’s kind of...grounding. Also odd. 

“And for you?” 

Bucky fumbles with the menu. 

“Uh...water? With lemon?” 

“Refreshingly good choice,” Lincoln says, grinning. “I’ll be right back with those, you two catch up on whatever you need to catch up.” 

Bucky nods, turning to Tony with an eyebrow raised. 

“So, what do we need to catch up on?” 

“Well for one, you need to use my name. It’s Tony, and I’m betting it sounds heavenly coming from you.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen a fraction. 

“Alright. Tony. What do you need to talk about?” 

“Keeping our little secret a secret.” 

“I’ve already told others about you.” 

“Who?” Tony asks sharply. 

Lincoln comes back with their drinks, asks if they need more time to decide. 

Bucky just goes for it and orders a plate of mini quiche-things that he’s not exactly sure he’ll like. Tony orders something with a perfect accent, because of course he does. 

“You do this often?” 

“Go out to eat? On special occasions, and every other Friday.” 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“Touchy, touchy,” Tony says, unfolding his napkin. “But I...have a deal for you.” 

“And why should I take it?” 

“Because it’s going to benefit SHIELD in the long-run,” Tony says. “And they’re all about benefits, if the rumors hold up against them.”

“And what rumors have you heard?” 

“I’ve heard plenty, although I seem to recall one about a flooded pipeline and a Broadway performance being improvised.” 

Bucky shakes his head. 

“Not true? Damn...” 

Tony looks around the restaurant before his eyes meet with the captivating ones across the table. 

“I have a secret identity. So do you.” 

“And we’re against each other, aren’t we?” 

“Only sometimes,” Tony says. “I essentially steal shit because it’s either random or has a purpose.” 

“And the miniature job you pulled was what, part of a scheme?” 

“Hell no,” Tony says. “A farmer in Montana wanted to see if I could do it because the face vaguely reminded him of his great-grandmother. I also, as a principle, try to steal as much shit from England as possible.” 

That’s funny, so he laughs. 

“And what do you want from me?” Bucky asks. 

“Oh my darling dearest, I want a lot of things from you,” Tony leers. “I only want one thing from SHIELD. I want them to keep my identity secret without any strings attached.” 

“It doesn’t work like that.” 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” 

“Well, it is what it is,” Bucky says. “I’m not gonna get you what you want, but I think you knew that. That’s why I’m out here dining with you, and I’ll be in the magazines for what, about a week?” 

“And notoriety for all time,” Tony says. “Your face is known, or at least on the internet. You should be prepared for people to ask you to model, by the way. God knows that you could kill it on the runway.” 

Bucky is amused. 

“Aw, you think?” 

“Of course I do. No one is gifted with that amount of shock in their eyes and goes on life being normal.” 

“My, how flattering you are,” Bucky says. 

Lincoln brings their food. Tells them that they can take their time, but there’s the bill. 

“You know who I need to talk to,” Tony says. 

“Maybe I do,” Bucky answers, evasive as possible. 

“I know you got hired for skills, but if it was for lying, then this is child’s play,” Tony says. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“It wasn’t for lying. It was because if I was about two hundred feet away, I could shoot your right pupil out and you wouldn’t even know.” 

“You think I don’t have my own tech encircling the city?” 

“No,” Bucky answers. 

Tony stops sipping on his cider. 

“Explain yourself, blue-eyed wonder.” 

"Because if you’re found out, it destroys every single reputation you’re going to have to build from the start, and the climb to the top is too delicate for that.” 

Tony sits back. 

“I’m impressed.” 

“Don’t be,” Bucky says. “But you’re going to want to meet my boss. I’ll take you to him some time this week, if you need. Or he can meet you.” 

“I doubt he’ll be able to.” 

- 

Okay so maybe Tony shouldn’t have said that, because there is a man with an eye-patch and a truly impressive trench-coat sitting in his office chair. 

“If that’s supposed to be an intimidation tactic, that’s what I learned for my ninth birthday with dear ole’ dad,” Tony says. “Literally none of them work on me.” 

“Then change your ‘visitor’ chairs, they’re damn uncomfortable,” the man says. “My name is Director Fury.” 

“Any first name?” 

“None that you need to know. Barnes told me that you wanted to talk to me about a deal.” 

“I don’t do deals.” 

“And yet you run a business.” 

“Noted,” Tony says, leaning on the window. “So. I want to keep doing what I do, and I want you guys to butt out of it.” 

“And why would we do that?” 

“Because it’s technically only making rich people sad,” Tony says. “And the occasional museum, but oh well. And, I can easily make your life worse.” 

“You think I haven’t been threatened before?” 

“Oh I know you have, what with your sparkling personality and charm,” Tony says. “But I’m threatening the whole of SHIELD. I have been in the dark for a long time, Fury, and as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t know half of what I can do. 

The only thing people really know is that I’m a genius and so was my father, but nothing else. Neat, isn’t it?” 

Fury doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“What’s your deal?” 

“Glad to know you know what I can do for you,” Tony says. “I can provide security and make sure that every single person has the latest technological updates. I have one stipulation: I get to make Barnes a new arm.” 

“That’s your only condition?” 

“Oh, you’ll be grateful it’s the only thing I’m asking for,” Tony says. “Believe me, I’ll still be annoying. I can promise you that.” 

Fury looks at him carefully. Tony Stark is still a mystery, although he seems to overestimate himself. Or how much Fury can actually see about people. 

“Why Barnes’ arm?” 

“Why not?” Tony asks. “After all, he deserves an arm that looks as nice as he does.” 

“No in-work relationships.” 

“Consider me not an employee,” Tony says. 

“Then you’re not on the payroll.” 

“I don’t have to be paid to get what I want to get,” he remarks. 

Fury gets up from the chair (he’ll make a note to Maria: he needs something like it soon) and gives Tony a pointed look at the doorway. 

“You sure about this?” 

Tony’s eyes gleam. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” 

- 

Director Fury is not ready. Tony shows up in floral-printed shirts and makes sure to blast rock music wherever he goes, or worse, metal. 

Barnes has never had a good poker face, which is why he’s the sharpshooter. Damned man turns to goo whenever the billionaire struts onto their property. 

But he’s happy about his office chair. 

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

can i ask about the Geraskel Spy AU if someone hasnt already?? ( also hello, i love your writing so much, i get so excited whenever i get a notification that you posted something)

Hi, anon! I’m so glad you like my writing!

Geraskel Spy AU exists right now as a bare bones outline and a few snippets of dialogue right now. It’s a spy AU and a fake dating AU, so I’ll need to actually start working on it in earnest one of this days. The gist is this:

Eskel and Geralt are childhood best friends and high school sweethearts that got married right out of college

Unbeknownst to Eskel, Geralt got recruited by the Redanian Secret Service in college and works as a spy. Eskel thinks that Geralt works as a tax fraud investigator.

About three years before the story starts, Geralt vanishes on a mission and is presumed dead. He’s really in hiding with Ciri, the granddaughter of the assassinated Cintran president.

Eskel is still grieving his husband, especially since he never found out exactly what happened to Geralt, when he’s targeted by some miscellaneous bad guys who are looking for information they think Geralt collected before his “death.”

Enter Jaskier, another spy for the RSS who used to work with Geralt and had a bit of a crush on him. He’s assigned to protect Eskel from the people threatening to kill him. And what better way to protect him than telling everyone that they’ve been secretly dating for months and moving in together?

Naturally, feelings start being felt. They save each other’s lives a few times. Eskel tries to figure out how to cope with the fact that the man who was both his dearest friend and the love of his life lied to him for over a decade.

And then Geralt reappears, alive, well, and looking to reunite with his husband

And here’s a snippet of dialogue:

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

Jaskier holds out his hand to shake. “My name is Agent Jaskier Pankratz, Redanian Secret Service.”

Eskel doesn’t take his hand. “Nice to meet you. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

Jaskier sighs. No pleasantries, then. “Someone broke into this house three days ago.”

All the color immediately leeches out of the other man’s face. “I didn’t…”

“You didn’t call the police. I’m guessing they told you they would kill your father and brother if you did, correct?”

Eskel recovers from his shock, seeming to replace it with anger. He rounds on Jaskier. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

Jaskier doesn’t back down, even though Eskel really is an impressively sized man. “We keep tabs on the spouses of all of our intelligence agents.”

Eskel freezes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your late husband, Geralt Rivia.”

“He was a tax fraud investigator.”

Jaskier snorts. “Yes, and I’m an insurance salesman.”

[pollenat]

EXO and Late night talks

➛ Requested! Ot9. Italics for the member, non-italics for the reader.

XIUMIN

“What are you doing?” *silence* “Eating?” “Yes, exactly!” “Oh, come on, Minseok. I’m hungry.” “You shouldn’t eat so late. It’s unhealthy!” “I wouldn’t be able to to sleep on empty stomach!” “So it’s better to poison yourself? With fast food?” *pause* “Next time just tell me and I’ll cook you something good.” *pause*  “-and stop pouting!”

*sigh* “Finally.” *pause* “A long day, huh?” “You have no idea...” *shuffling* “I’m so tired I thought I could hear the bed calling for me.” *silence* “What are you still doing on your phone?” *more shuffling* “Min-” “I’m finally in bed, after a whole day of working and you’re busy with something else. What about me? Don’t I deserve attention?” “Oh, Minseok. Of course!” *shuffling* “That’s better.”

*shuffling* “What- What are you doing?” “Watching.” “I can see. I can also see that you’re watching me, and that’s a little unnerving.” *laughing* “How come? I should be allowed to watch you. Whenever I want to.” “Nothing to be watched here.” “Oh, I can assure you, there’s something great to stare at.” “Ha ha.” *shuffling* “Creep.” *laughing* “Cute.”

“The work calls. Though I wish I could go to sleep with you. Catch some good dreams to tell me about, okay?”

“Stop being a jerk about that!” “A jerk? It was the other guy!” “The other guy that’s my family!” “I protected you!” “From what, Minseok? There was nothing to protect me from! He was just joking, as I told you.” “That didn’t sound like a joke! He said something rude and deserved to be called out for it. Maybe you can’t see it, because you grew up with him, but that was wrong. I did what I had to do-” *the sound of doors closing* “Of course.”

SUHO

“How much longer?” “I’m halfway through my routine. Be patient.” *an over-dramatic sigh* “I’ll die of old age before you’re finished!” *laughing* “Just enjoy the view instead of hurrying me.” “I could be enjoying it much better from a smaller distance! You know, in bed?” “Was that an allusion of sorts?” “What?” *pause* “Ew! No!”

“Can you answer my emails too?” *pause* “What? You’re good at it.” *snorting* “Answering emails?” *shuffling* “Ah, you’re funny.” *pause* “(y/n), this is what adulting looks like - you answer questions that people have for you. There’s nothing scary about it.” “That’s what you say, but I don’t agree. My insurance agent is scary.” “And so you want me to talk to him?” “Will you? Please?” “What? N-no! That’s your duty!” “Some boyfriend you are...”

*shuffling* “Junmyeon, let me sleep.” “I am letting you sleep.” “No, you’re distracting me.” “How?” “By clinging to me? I'm sleepy. We can cuddle tomorrow.” “sighing* “I can’t wait for tomorrow. That’s too long.” “That’s just a few hours.” “My point exactly. Too long.” “Stop whining and just go to sleep. We will cuddle when you wake up.” *sighing* “Goodnight.”

“You need to take better care of yourself. I won’t always be here to do it for you.”

“Come on. Say it.” “I didn’t-” “Cut it. I’m not oblivious. And you’re not that good at acting.” *silence* “Why won’t you just speak what’s on your mind.” “I didn’t mean to make you mad.” *sighing* “I already am, so there’s no need to cry over something that happened, huh?” “... Sorry.” *shuffling* “Yeah, of course. Just go. Goodnight to you too.”

LAY

“You need to come to bed, mister.” “Oh? I’m still not finished-” “You can finish this tomorrow. It won’t run off.” “But I will lose the - you know - flow of work.” “Otherwise you’ll just work yourself to death, huh? Come on. It’s already 2 am.” *silence* “Yixing...” *sighing* “Alright, alright. I’ll shut it off.” “Thank you!”

“(y/n)?” “Yes?” “You look sad.” “Oh, I’m just tired. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” *pause* “I know when you’re faking a smile. You’re doing this right now.” *silence* “Come on-” *shuffling* “-tell me what’s got you so bummed.” “It’s seriously nothing-” “I don’t care about how big it may be. Just talk to me. Maybe sharing the weight will help a little.” “But I don’t want to burden you. There’s enough on your plate.” “Blah, blah, blah. Babe, seriously. Talk to me. If you can’t even have a conversation with me, then of what use am I?”

“Then we can go see the Acropolis.” “There’s a museum close, right?” *crumpling paper* “Ah, yes. I see now. So we go to Acropolis, then to the museum and then for some nice dinner.” “Sounds dreamy.” “Good, so the day two is planned.” *silence*  “What?” “Wish we could go on holidays more often.” “Is once a year not enough?” “Hmm... No. It’s not enough.”

“No need to stress yourself over tomorrow. It will happen, so let’s just allow it, alright? Now. Go to sleep baby.”

“(y/n)? Um-” *pause* “They can’t come up to talk.” *pause* “No... Eh, I suppose I could just say it. No, we’re not on- not on speaking terms.” *pause* “Broken up? No! Just, you know” *shuffling* “we need some time away from one another to calm down.” *sighing* “We had this big argument and it got pretty serious... I don’t know why I’m boring you with this very personal stuff. Going back to what we were talking about-”

BAEKHYUN

“Who’s a baby? You are baby. Yes, you.” *shuffling* “The biggest baby of them all. My baby.” “Why are you paying more attention to him?” “Hmm, you mean my baby?” “I am baby. This is a dog.” *dramatic sigh* “Don’t listen to (y/n), baby. They’re just jealous.” “How can you be more affectionate towards a dog?” “(y/n). Look at him and tell me he’s not a baby. Look.” *pause* “I’m also baby.”

“Do we really have to go tomorrow?” “Yes,” *groaning* “why? Weren’t you the excited one?” “That was the past me. The present me has realized that I’d rather stay home with you.” “And what would we be doing at home the entire day?” “Cuddling? Watching TV... Cuddling?” “You’re already cuddling me.” “But that’s the sleep type of cuddling. I meant the type of cuddling that’s- cuddling. For real.” “Mmm- Sounds nice.” “So?” “So no. It’s too late to cancel.” *deep sigh*

“(y/n), come back here!” “I’m busy-” “Well, I’m lonely! That’s worse than busy. In conclusion? I win, so get back here!” “Baekhyun, please-” *shuffling* “-I swear, I’m really busy.” “As I said - and I’m lonely! Which belongs to your list of duties as well! Right at the very top, there’s written: keep Baekhyun company, remember? So stop stalling and let’s go back where we belong!”

“Baby, you’re lying funny. Oh, you’re asleep?” *silence* “Eh, no. I won’t do that.”

“(y/n)-” “No.” “Please-” *sighing* “What? What more, do you want from me?” “I just want you to look at me.” “And I’m not in the mood.” “To look at me?” “Yes, exactly that.” “Stop being so mad!” *shuffling* “Baekhyun, I’ll be mad for as long as I want. So stop trying- Doing whatever it is you’re doing.” *shuffling* *silence* “I just miss you.”

CHEN

“-you have that thing when you’re- sad.” “Hm? I’ve never noticed.” “Well, obviously. It’s something others notice.” “I guess.” *pause* “Is that annoying?” *laughing* “No. No, it’s cute. I like it- But not really, because you’re sad during those times- but like, in a weird way, it brings me- contentment? Because I know this thing about you?” “I guess I get it?” *laughing*

“Hey, is that- Is that my sweater?” “Hm?” *feet stomping* “Oh, is it?” “Yeah... I’ve given up looking for it a while ago...” “Well, you’ve found it now? So?” “Were you the one to take it?” “Me? Are you accusing me of stealing your sweater?”��“More like taking without asking me, but yes?” “Ridiculous. How dare you?” “Wouldn’t be the first time.” “I possess no knowledge of such happenings.” *snickering* “Sure thing, babe.”

“I was thinking-” “Oh, okay. Shoot.” “It’s nothing bad!” *pause* “And don’t raise your eyebrows at me!” “I said nothing.” “But you made a face!” “Oh, just tell me.” “Well, okay. So I was thinking that we could leave somewhere for the weekend. You know, chill away from home?” “Snap, (y/n). That’s actually a good idea. I mean, would be, if I was free this weekend-” “Jongdae!” “Mans gotta work, sorry!” “And so my masterplan has fallen apart.”

“Is that drool? Eww, that’s disgusting.” *long silence* ”There. You really made me clean it up for you, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” “Jongdae, please-” “No. I told you to let this go, so please, do as I asked.” “I can’t just ignore what happened. We cannot ignore what happened. What about that time you made me promise to talk every single thing out?” “That was in the past. I don’t want to lose my temper.” “It’s not-” “Finished.”

CHANYEOL

“Your hands are calloused.” *silence* “Aren’t you working out too much?” “Ha, my trainer would say I’m working out too little.” “Sounds like we wouldn’t get along.” *silence* “He’s right though, my muscles are weaker these days. And I’ve already lost abs.” “You don’t need abs.” “Aren’t abs attractive?” “To some - probably yes. But I don’t really care. You don’t have to worry about such things when it comes to impressing me.” “Who said anything about impressing you?” “Oh- Well then...” *laughing*

“When you say that I’m annoying - do you actually mean that?” *shuffling* “(y/n)?” “Are you- mad that I called you annoying?” “Not really. I’m just... Just wondering.” *pause* “Do you go about your day and think that I’m annoying.” “Yes, I do.” “Oh.” “I go about my day and think - that Chanyeol guy is so annoying, he never leaves my head. I think I’m going crazy - that’s what I think.” “Oh- Really? You think about me in that way?” “Yes.” “Oh, so you’re so in love with me?” “Chanyeol, don’t ruin the moment.” *snickering*

“I’m this close to pushing you off the bed. Stop-” *shuffling* “-taking-” *shuffling* “-all-” *shuffling* “-the space.” *pause* “Are you seriously still asleep?” “No, I’m just ignoring you.” “Shit! You scared me.” “Was sort of planning to do so. Now, stop pushing me and let’s just cuddle.” *silence* *sighing* “Fine.”

*shuffling* “It’s all better when we’re together, isn’t it?”

“Chanyeol, that was one time!” “One time, when I told you not do so. And what? Did you listen? Of course, not!” “What’’s with that: of course not? What, because I’m so stupid?” “That- That’s not what I was talking about! You’re changing the subject to escape your fault!” “Oh, because that’s the easiest way, yeah? To make everything my fault?” “I’m not making it. This time, it is!” “Give me a break, Chanyeol!” *frustrated groaning*

D.O.

“Did I wake you up?” *silence* “I don’t know? I just woke up-” *shuffling* “Are you still reading?” “Yes.” *pause* “I should probably finish for today, huh?” “I’d say that-” *shuffling* “-1AM is a pretty late hour to be reading.” “I just- I really like this book.” *laughing* “I know. I mean - you didn’t miss an evening with it.” “One more page?” “You’ll read it tomorrow.” “But-” “Kyungsoo, it’s time to sleep.” “... alright.”

“Here, you’ll be warmer.” “Thank you...” *shuffling* *long silence* “Kyungsoo?” “Yes?” “Which one is your favorite?” “Constellation?” *pause* “Hmm... I don’t know. I think I like them all.” *silence* “There’s nothing bad about liking all, is there?” *silence* “There’s not. I was just expecting you to say something super cheesy.” *laughing* “Me?”

“Ugh, I’m never eating anything you make again!” “What? Why?” *pause* “Everyone tells me I’m a good cook.” “Yes, you are. That’s why I’m never eating anything from you again. You cook too good and I eat too much.” *snickering* “Does your stomach hurt?” “Yes...” “You’re such a baby sometimes.” *pause* “But fine, if you don’t want me to cook for you-” “I was joking?” “Were you? I didn’t sound like joking.” “Kyungsoo! You cannot let me starve!” “But I cannot cook for you as well?” *groaning* *laughing*

*laughing softly* “You really do sleep like a baby.”

“One thing. I asked you for one thing. Is that so much?” *silence* “I asked you a question.” “I couldn’t-” *shuffling* “Couldn’t what?” “I was busy with something else.” “Yeah, sure. It was so time-consuming, right?” “Kyungsoo-” “Sorry, won’t put you through so much stress again.” *to himself* “How insensitive of me.” “I’m really sorry.” “Yeah, well...” *feet stomping*

KAI

“Why aren’t you in bed?” “Hm? Oh, I was waiting for you.” *laughing* “I can see. Doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have.” “Why not?” *naked feet stomping* “Missed you.” “I missed you too, but now I feel guilty you stayed so late for me.” “You shouldn’t feel guilty, because you were busy and staying was my own choice.” “But-” “Anyways, let’s just go to bed already. Yeah?” *snickering* “I can’t argue with that.”

“You can’t be serious.” “Why not?” *splashing* “Isn’t it super cold? How have you not frozen yet?” “The water is actually really nice. Come on!” “No way! Jongin, you’re crazy.” “That’s what we drove here for - a midnight swim.” “Yeah, but I thought you were kidding. I thought we would just chill on the sand, not go swimming in the ocean!” “Stop complaining and come live a little! We will worry about the aftermath after!” “After we freeze to death?” “We won’t freeze! Look - I’m fine!” *pause* “Trust me?” “Ugh, only because you’re so stubborn...”

“Is this okay?” “Mhm-” *shuffling* *crunching* “Did you just- eat my cucumber?” “I was hungry!” “So you ate a slice of cucumber that rested on my left eye and had a little bit of face mask on it?” “Oh, that’s where the bitter part came from.” “Jongin, you thief! That’s why we can’t have spa nights - you eat the spa part.” “It’s just a cucumber.” “No, it’s about the principles.” “You’re being overdramatic, I’ll go cut you another one.”

“Hm-” *shuffling* *lips smacking* “-love you.”

“Will you be back late tomorrow?” *silence* “Jongin?” *silence continues* “I know you’re awake.” *silence* *sighing* “Alright.” *shuffling* *silence* “Why, so he can come?” *shuffling* “He?” “The guy you were so busy talking to today.” “Is that what you’re so mad about?” “You were very- taken by him.” *laughing* “What’s so funny about that?” “Are you really jealous over some random guy?” “You were-” “Oh, stop it. Jongin, it’s ridiculous.” “-not to me.”

SEHUN

“I’m going to die and it’s all your fault-” “Huh? What? Why?” “-Hypothermia will take me. What a graceless death - to die of cold.” “What are you talking about Sehun?” “-and that’s all because I’ve decided to date a blanket hog. You could say I’ve decided the fate for myself-” “Oh, shut up. Just pull the duvet closer next time instead of making a scene.” “As if that was so easy...”

“Don’t stop.” “Hmm?” “Keep on doing that thing you were doing.” “You mean petting? You want me to continue petting you?” “Yes.” *pause* “Please?” *shuffling* “It’s not like I can tell you no.” *long silence* “Didn’t expect to be rejected.” *sighing* “You may still do.” “No. I’m your baby. You wouldn’t reject me and that’s a fact.” “You’re an adult.” “And your baby.” *pause* *shuffling* “Or am I wrong?” *snorting* “Okay, come back here, you baby.”

“So? What did you think?” “Hmm-” “What are you wondering about? That bad?” “I think the taste test was too short. I’ll need more samples.” *pause* “You just want to make out.” *sighing* “Isn’t that the whole point of buying a chapstick?” “No? There’s also the factor of my lips being too dry?” “And you don’t want them to be dry, because?” “Because that’s bad?” “But also because it causes me discomfort?” “Geez, Sehun. Not everything is about you.”

“You were mad at me today, weren’t you? I could tell from how you acted.” *pause* “Don’t be mad at me any longer, okay?”

“Sehun? Where are you going.” *silence* “Out.” “O-out?” *pause* “At this hour? Why would you?” *silence* “Is it because of our argument?” *more silence* “Sehun, don’t be chi- don’t do this. It’s too late to be walking around. Stay home, please.” “You wanted to call me childish, didn’t you?” “No-” *pause* “Yes, I did. Be mad at me, just- don’t leave.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Weak ~ S.R. (part 2)

A/n: A good song for this part is “Grow As We Go” by Ben Platt. Even though I wrote this inspired by “Weak” by AJR, I feel this song works a lot better :) Side note: for some reason I changed POV halfway through but for only one part? And I didn’t want to miss something so I just left it. Just... ignore that lol.

Word Count: 7000+

MASTERLIST

They call me after dark, I don't want no part. My habits, they hold me like a grudge- I promise I won't budge.

"Hey JJ," Y/n greeted as she braced herself in front of the office she now stood in front of.

"Hey." JJ's voice had become quite familiar in their time talking. Prentiss had also given her number, but they didn't talk as much. JJ, Y/n and Penelope had a group chat though and the three of them talked loads. "I heard you start your new job today. You excited?"

Y/n tried not to think about it. The first time she'd walked into the police station she usually worked at she'd had a panic attack, and even when it had gotten better she still couldn't find comfort there anymore. Everyone understood and they'd given her basically worker's comp as she searched for a new job. They'd even helped her out. But it hadn't worked and she couldn't find any other real work there, so she was back in DC. The place wasn't tainted anymore, but Y/n did miss the small town feel. The real problem was that Y/n hadn't told anyone that she had moved back. She'd just told them she'd gotten a job at the diner.

"Very," Y/n lied. "I have to start in a few minutes actually. Mind if I call you tonight?"

"Oh of course," JJ assured. "I thought you started later."

Y/n chuckled. The woman had become a sort of comfort for her. "I appreciate the check up call," she said. "I'll tell you how it went later." JJ agreed and they ended the call and Y/n walked inside. It was as far from Y/n's dream as she could get. Well, maybe now as far from, but it was just a printing store. You came here to get your pictures printed from a  camera, or you faxed them and they printed here. Posters. Invitations. Anything. Y/n wore a polo shirt and khakis. She was going nothing great for this world, but at least she could pay rent.

The day was long and boring. Y/n was glad to be home, but not excited to call JJ about it. She hated lying and this one might require her to do it. She could just tell JJ she was back in town and working literally BLOCKS from everyone else but... then they might ask to hang out and that would bring her around to see Spencer again and that was what she REALLY wanted but also what she even more needed not to happen.

"Hey Y/n!" JJ greeted. "I'm so glad to hear from you."

"Just get off of work?" Y/n asked.

"Just gave Hotch a new case," JJ corrected, sighing. "It's going to be a rough one." She paused. "I kind of wish you were here. We could get coffee while they get ready." She chuckled.

It kind of came out when she said that. "I actually am." A long pause. "I- I couldn't find a job. I lived here before I moved away, so I moved back. Uh. I could meet you somewhere?"

"Sure," JJ said slowly, processing what Y/n had just said.

Y/n planted her face in her hand. "I'll explain over coffee, okay?" JJ agreed and they hung up. Y/n headed out, meeting her at the nearest coffee shop they'd both agreed on. When the two women saw each other, their smiles grew. They hugged and then they parted, went inside, ordered, and got a close by place that would let them talk without possibly missing their order. JJ didn't have a lot of time before they all left. "Did you tell anyone I'm back?"

JJ pursed her lips. "I got the feeling you didn't want anyone to know."

Y/n sighed, covering her face. "I adore you guys, it's nothing like that. I just-" she laughed nervously, feeling her emotions rising. "Did you know that when I was a kid, I wanted to be a cop?" She laughed, looking anywhere but JJ. "I can't even handle one run in with a bad guy, let alone hundreds. Thousands. I'm not-" Y/n cut off. She was about to say 'worthy'. Something she screamed at herself all the time. But she couldn't say that to JJ- that would lead to her finding out about five and a half years ago. "Strong enough." That would work. "And because of that, I quit a job I really loved. Not even that- I just couldn't work there anymore. Quit and fired leave the idea that anyone wanted me to leave." She scoffed at herself. "And now I'm at Shutterfly printing pictures and talking to practically no one ever, standing around and waiting for someone to ask for a picture or a poster or something. I'm-" she huffed.

JJ reached across the table, hand resting against Y/n's arm. "You are not weak." Her words were so firm and sure that Y/n had a hard time finding something to argue. What had she been so sure of a moment ago? "You were kidnapped by a psychopath, Y/n. You were almost killed. That's horrible. Even we struggle with it for a very long time when it happens to us. The only difference is that we're conditioned to it every day of our lives. The fact that it bothers you is a good sign. We're... numb to it. It's really bad actually." She flinches, sighing. "You SHOULD be upset by it."

Taking a breath to stabilize herself, Y/n nodded. "I just... feel pathetic. And I don't want them to see me like this." She stared at the table, tracing her finger along the design. If she was being honest, it was really that she didn't want Reid to see her like this. After all, she'd told JJ just fine. But she wasn't being honest. When she looked up and met JJ's gaze, though, it was clear she didn't have to be. I guess that's what you get when you talk to a professional profiler.

"Okay." Their orders were called and they got them, heading out. "If I can do anything for you, Y/n, you have my number." Y/n nodded, but didn't say anything more. JJ had an odd look in her eyes that made Y/n nervous. "I promise I won't tell him." Neither had to clarify who she was talking. "Promise, okay?" Y/n nodded again and they hugged before JJ headed off to kick some bad guy ass.

Y/n felt terrible watching her go.

- First Person POV -

"You did what?"

"I got you a job here!" She repeated, sounded ecstatic. I felt horrified, and after my tone she continued at a very quick pace, as if to explain herself. "I figure you can get some second hand experience and see if you really are into this sort of thing. I know a lot of people like the idea, but sometimes when they get into this line of work they learn pretty quickly it's not for them. And that's okay. I just- I mean, it's just like your last job. You'll be an assistant; helping with paperwork, keeping this moving and organized and helping everyone go home sooner. We could use another set of eyes watching our backs- Hotch and I try our best, but there's just too many of them, you know?" It was an attempt at a joke, but when I didn't laugh she continued talking. "Plus, working here gives you great insurance. You could put yourself through schooling, for whatever kind of job you find you like most here. You might like to be a technical analysis instead of a field agent, or you might prefer something like my job that allows you limited field or... whatever." JJ had never sounded nervous before, but Y/n hadn't had too much experience in seeing her nervous in a personal situation, rather than seeing her face press or having to keep everything together under pressure. It was kind of endearing. "I thought it would be nice to know what you're getting into before you do it. And..." She hesitated. "We miss you. I haven't told anyone like you asked, but Garcia is dying to meet you and everyone always talk about how much we wish you were around to lighten up the mood like last time we worked with you.” JJ sighed. "Honestly, Garcia tries her best but keeping things light around here is hard, and it's taking a huge toll on her. It would be so helpful if she had someone to bounce off of."

Y/n found herself smiling. If she could really make a difference... I mean, if the job wiped out all of those who did it, who would do the job, right? Someone had to watch the backs of those too busy watching the backs of others.

She would be working Spencer constantly, but she tried not to think about that. She'd barely survived two weeks- how would she manage sharing a career with him? But, how could she turn him down? Wasn't the whole point of pulling herself together and becoming a better person and getting her old habits bated so that Spencer Reid didn't control her life anymore? This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for her whole life. She had no real excuses- she just couldn't let him hold her back from living her life, especially when he wanted to do anything but. She'd almost allowed her awkwardness with him deprive her of really good friends, which would have left her far from where she was now with this job offer. She needed to take charge and get the fuck over herself.

"You know what JJ, I would absolutely love that."

An audible sigh of relief sounded on the other side of the receiver and Y/n chuckled. "I'm so glad to hear that. I... did talk to Hotch because he's the one who hired you, so I may have fibbed a little about not telling ANYONE else- but he's good at keeping secrets, and everyone else will be shocked when you start. Should I brace them or do you want to break that news in person?"

Y/n couldn't help it- she smirked. "How could I turn down such a dramatic entrance?"

"I thought you would say that." Just from the sound of JJ's voice, Y/n could tell both of them had matching curves to their lips. It was that which made Y/n feel so sure that this would be a great thing for her. It wouldn't even be a big deal, beside maybe the initial shock of it all. She just had to not over think it.

-

Walking into a precinct full of people who were trained to pick apart every person they run across until they get into their head and saw their bare soul hadn't been a thought that crossed Y/n's mind until she walked into the room after JJ's rather dramatic and mysterious introduction. All eyes turned to Y/n and she almost died right then and there because the confusion burning in their gazes demanded to be satiated, and it seemed they were trying to answer the questions themselves rather than just asking. Their gaze bore into her, making her uncomfortable and awkward.

"Guys," JJ reminded.

Morgan blinked first. He grinned, standing up and approaching Y/n. "Oh my gosh! I-" he cut off, his arms twitching. "Are you good with hugs?" Y/n nodded wordlessly. When was the last time she'd been hugged? By... Maya. Oh god let's not think about that. Morgan wrapped his arms around her and she let his warmth distract her from dark thoughts. He gave great hugs- it was easy. She'd missed that feeling, goodness.

Prentiss was next. "Okay so I need an explanation here." She was smiling though, and her tone was as light as her hand as she rested it on Y/n's shoulders. She liked how touchy the team was. It was only in that moment that Y/n realized she was hungering for physical touch.

Pushing those thoughts down, Y/n tried to aim a little better for normal. "I kind of lost my last job because every time I went into the... Well, being back there made me kind of..." she motioned with her hands, trying to explain. Her face went red. "It's hard to return to the place you were kidnapped from." She cleared her throat, but there was no judgement from the people around her, just understanding. That made her feel worse. "Well, it turns out that small towns aren't as much my thing when the only other jobs are really menial, so I moved back to Virginia. I lived here my whole life before moving out there." She shrugged. "I was looking for real work and mentioned it to JJ one day since we talk a lot. And she'd amazing, so here I am." Again everyone nodded, but this time they had smiles on their faces and JJ beamed with pride.

"Well," Rossi began, but he was cut off by someone.

"Everyone out of my way!" The crowd beginning to form around me parted for a pretty blonde girl who was... very loud. Not just like voice wise, but with what she wore as well. It made my heart more full. It was almost a relief compared to all the neutral grey and black and the occasional blue or something. "I am Penelope Garcia, and we're going to be spending a lot of time together so I thought I thought I should ask now, how are with sexual humor and platonic flirting because this is like super essential to my personality."

Y/n giggled and everyone seemed to perk up, especially Garcia. "I'm kind of awkward," Y/n admitted. "But you can do whatever you want. As long as you keep that pretty smile on your face."

Everyone's jaw dropped, and Y/n and Garcia both turned red. Y/n blushed because despite what she'd just said she really was awkward. Garcia blushed because after what Y/n had said, she hadn't expected to be flirted with, neither had she been flirted with by such a cute, innocent person. She was used to Derek who was unapologetically sexy. "Oh," the blonde noticed. "We're going to be GREAT friends."

"I really hope so," Y/n gushed sincerely. Everyone seemed to be cheery already, smiles all around.

Then Y/n saw Spencer. He approached slowly, seeming shy as he gently maneuvered through people to get to Y/n. "Hi," he greeted softly upon finally reaching a comfortable distance.

It was suddenly pin drop silent, and the lack of chatter seemed so heavy that Y/n winced, feeling her chest rage against it. "Hello." Y/n cleared her throat, hoping her burning face could be excused by her interaction with Garcia, where it had started. "So. Anything major happening today?"

JJ saw the cry of help and answered the call instantly. "We have a new case."

"Thank god," Spencer whispered, ducking his head and moving away from Y/n. She didn't think he'd meant for her to hear it, and the words hadn't seemed to hurt anyone else, so she let them roll off of her shoulders. He had seemed pretty happy to see her, if a little awkward. It was probably weird to see her so social when she was so stiff with him was all. And after how heavy the air had been, she was relieved to get away from it herself.

Was this going to be how it always was between them?

Goodness she hoped not.

One sip, bad for me; one hit, bad for me; one kiss, bad for me, but I give in so easily. And no thank you is how it should've gone. I should stay strong, but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that?

- third person POV -

"Hey, G," Y/n greeted brightly, two cups of coffee in her hands. It had been a few days on her first case, and already she understood what JJ had meant by Garcia struggling to keep the mood light. The woman hated to frown, let alone be serious, and unfortunately for her the rest of the team was pretty stoic. Thankfully she could bounce off of Morgan, but now that she had Y/n who was as equally positive - if not as high energy - the two women had come up with lots of things to keep each other in good shape. Like dorky nicknames only they used, and being around each other a lot, and sharing food and drink suggestions. Y/n was usually the one to get them since her job made her feel rather useless since she didn't do much to make a difference, but she could reason to herself that keeping Garcia caffeinated was the best thing she could do for the team other than be out there with them directly.

"Hey, Lovergirl," Garcia piped cheerily. Y/n chuckled at the nickname. Ever since her flirting, they'd been nonstop back and forth in a much more innocent way than Garcia was with Morgan. The man and Y/n had jokingly fought over Garcia, but then she had made a joke about how she had two hands and it had ended there. The sort of pure back and forth had let Garcia giving her more innocent nicknames, like Sweetheart and Lovergirl, rather than Chocolate Thunder over there. Someone had asked if they were dating and they'd both fist bumped after having a laughing fit over it. Somewhere along the way Garcia had mumbled, 'Lovergirl wishes' and it had been making Y/n smile ever since. She'd never had a friend like this before and she was basking in it.

Unfortunately, the rest of the team wasn't having as good of a time.

"It's so good to hear your voice." It was Morgan, making Y/n smile even wider.

"Not as good as it is to hear yours," Y/n replied calmly. "How you doing, Batman?"

The smile was obvious in his voice. "Much better now that you're here." Y/n giggled then settled in next to Garcia. They got to business after that. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing you want to know," Garcia sighed. She tried to keep her tone casual but Y/n could tell she also didn't want to talk about it.

"Fair enough. Anything I can do to help the most beautiful woman in the world?" She asked instead. "Give me literally anything, otherwise I have to leave your amazing presence and then where would I be?"

Garcia was grinning again. Y/n felt proud. "There's actually a lot of that footage still left. I got distracted by what you gave me last time. Want to see if you can get anything else?" Y/n nodded, getting to work.

It took a few hours until she found something, but when she did, her heart stopped. She snagged her phone, dialing Reid immediately. He answered on the second ring. "Y/n?" He seemed surprised, but his tone pitched up like he was happy about it too.

Y/n was too preoccupied to think about it. "What the likelihood of winning gambles at chance games?"

"Well what kind of chance gamble? The odds of winning the Lottery are approximately one in fourteen-million, where a person has a one in three million chance of sighting a UFO. Funnily enough, that's almost five times more likely than winning the jackpot. You are more likely to die of a flesh eating disease at one in a million than winning the lottery."

"Spencer?" Y/n smiled to herself, not being able to stop him. He was adorable. She pushed that to the back of her mind, shaking her head to refocus as well as wipe the smile off of her face. "How often do people have a so called winning streak in gambling? Like in casinos." He paused and Y/n's eyebrows together. "Spencer?" And then she realized her mistakes and her eyes widened. "I- uh- Dr. Reid."

He sucked in air before responding in a rasping voice, "Some scientists  actually believe that luck streaks are real, continued by the fact that people just choose safer odds and then keep on that streak every time they... anyway, the point it, based on how smart you are, you could keep winning constantly."

A thought caught in Y/n's mind. "Have you ever lost a gamble?"

His answer was immediate and clueless. "I haven't, no. Why do you ask?"

Y/n tried not to laugh and managed a soft chuckle. "No reason. Uh-" She shook her head again. God, why couldn't she focus?! "I was looking through more of that footage we got where we saw the masked unsub walking in the shadows and looking for someone to kill. Well I was looking through the extra footage the casino gave us- remember the bonus hours they said nothing happened on, but they gave it to us just to give us more hours? To be annoying, because they were mad or whatever?" Spencer hummed. "Well, a man matching the masked attacker's height, weight, and wearing the same suit shows up the next day gambling. For nearly the entire day, and then he goes home with far more money than he came with and he hasn't lost a single game." Y/n paused, biting her lip. "Not even once the whole day."

Garcia's interest has peaked at this point. She's rolls her chair over, eyes scanning the moment Y/n's paused on on the screen. The footage is from an old camera, so Y/n doesn't even know if they can make out his face. But there he is. Facing the camera and everything. "He wore the same suit," she whispers, horrified.

"Do you think he's killing to increase his luck?" Spencer asked hurriedly.

"No," Y/n answered immediately. Only then did she realized he'd asked Garcia, but the blonde was looking at her to explain her answer so she shot off. "The day before, he was agitated. Today, he's calm. Not confident, but completely at peace. It's not like that one case you talked about where a guy went around killing people because he thought it brought him luck. I looked back on feed for that and he was reckless- almost drunk, high on confidence. This man... it's like he got a good night's rest."

Spencer paused. "How do you know about that case?"

"Oh well JJ made a comment about how this one was similar to that one so I got the file and looked into it. We have the footage and everything on file." She shrugged, then saw Garcia's look of shock. "Should... I have not done that?"

"No you're fine," Garcia voiced. "That's just really impressive catch up playing."

Y/n blushed. "I'm just doing my job." She cleared her throat. "I could be wrong, I just wanted your opinion-" she cut off, catching herself for a second. "Reid."

She could feel him nod, rather than see it since they were over the phone. "Thanks Y/n. I'll tell the others."

"Anything for you, Wonderboy," Y/n teased. The line went dead. She felt her stomach twist. She was trying to treat him like she did everyone else, but every flirt hit different when it was directed at him. Even such easily dismissed ones such as the one she'd just delivered. She could feel Garcia's eyes locked on her so Y/n busied herself with her drink until the blonde had to get back to work, boarding on already wasting time they didn't have.

For now, she had escaped questions but every day it got harder as people seem to take everything she said and looked into it so see the truth where she tried to hide it.

God help her.

-

Y/n slipped into the elevator. This case hadn't gone very well, ending with gun shots ringing through Garcia's phone and a long silence of unknowing whether it was for the unsub or for their friends. Turns out, it was a little of both. One for the unsub, one for none other than Dr. Spencer Reid himself. He'd lost a lot of blood before anything could be done and now he was in the hospital and the entire team had had to pry Y/n out of that room and to her house so she could get cleaned up a little after having gone straight from hours in the office, stressing about work, straight to hovering over his bed waiting for him to wake up for just as long.

Now she entered the room again, nodding to a waiting Prentiss. "They told me to come send you outside next." Hotch had been getting them home one by one, as each of the team had been as worried as Y/n. "JJ and Hotch have kids and Morgan's on Garcia duty to make sure she gets some food and rest. Have you eaten yet?" Prentiss stood, shaking her head. "I've got this, and Rossi said he might drop by to keep me company if he can't get to sleep. Please."

"Thank you," Prentiss whispered as she passed Y/n on her way out. There were frown lines on the edges of her eyes and a strain to her smile. "Don't stay too long. Sleeping here can't be good for your back." It was a weak joke- everyone knew the other girl wouldn't leave this room again until he was awake. And he would wake up. Prentiss caught Y/n's hand. "Hey, you know it wasn't your fault right?"

Y/n flinched. She had been the one to give Reid the information about the unsub. Morgan had been a little skeptical of her idea since she wasn't a profiler, and it had put an edge on everyone else too, even Hotch who was obviously trying not to be partial. The truth was though, Derek was more experienced than Y/n was. He was more familiar with the team and had their trust a lot more. They had said something about Reid being partial, but Garcia and JJ had been pretty convinced too. That didn't help Reid when he went the extra mile to prove to everyone Y/n was right though. That he trusted her for a real reason. That there was merit to her words and observations. It didn't help him when he went a different direction than the others because he had a gut feeling and Hotch encouraged him too. It didn't even help when he'd taken JJ with him, since she was the only other person who believed Y/n as much as Spencer did.

It didn't help him when he got shot on Y/n's hunch. Got shot with her on the phone, waiting on baited breath just to hear JJ freaking out on the other end.

It didn't help him now either, as he lay in a hospital bed.

Y/n looked away. "Yeah."

"I'm serious," Prentiss insisted. "At the time, it was fair for us to doubt you. We-" she cut off, choosing better words. "We shouldn't have, because you did your work like the rest of us. But you are new and untrained, so it was fair to have pause at first. But Reid, JJ, and Garcia all backed you up and we should have been there for that. We could all play the blame game. If we’d just listened to Reid and JJ. If we’d believed Garcia. If we had been more open minded about you... But that’s isn’t fair. It's no one's fault but the unsub's."

That was another thing. The man who had put Reid in the hospital was still out there, already all better and heading out to jail. His eyes were open and there had been a smile on his face when he was getting toted off. JJ had told Y/n while she was in shock. He was fine and Reid was in the hospital and Y/n sat there hating the whole thing. "Yeah," she repeated, because she didn't have the energy to fight herself on how she felt versus what she knew to be real.

Prentiss seemed to see that struggle and recognized that she couldn't get through to Y/n anymore than she already had. So she left and Y/n was there alone. She took back her old spot, where she'd been until a few hours ago. Where Prentiss had been sitting before she came back. Now she sat back down again and rested her elbow on the bed. It was itching into late mid morning and Y/n still hadn't slept. Her eyelids were dragging against her, demanding she rest. She tried to fight it, but eventually her head drooped more and more until it fell next to Spencer's limp arm and the world was lost to her as she fell asleep.

There was a sense of being watched that ripped her awake again. Her eyes shot open and her fingers curled around the sheets, her body going rigid. A pair of hands shot out to wrap around her tense fingers, pulling them away from the bed in an attempt to soothe her. She thought it was Rossi for a second until she sat up and looked over to see a weakly smiling but very awake Spencer. Y/n felt her chest shake as she sucked in a relieved breath.

"Hi," he croaked.

"You idiot." Tears were blurring her vision as she held herself back from punching him in the arm. He was hurt enough. "I oughtta sock you."

He laughed. He actually laughed, the ass. "You were right." He got a little more serious, the look in his eyes becoming soft and his smile being filled with pride rather than amusement. "He was about to kill someone when we came in. You saved a life, Y/n. Maybe even more, depending on how long it would have taken us to get him with where we were taking the case. The profile was just wrong enough he might have gotten a few more people before we stopped him."

That made Y/n relax. "I don't forgive you for getting shot."

Spencer's smile widened. "I'll do better next time."

"You better," Y/n warned. "Or I'LL put you in the hospital next time I swear to god Spencer." His eyes twinkled and Y/n swallowed. "Er, Reid."

He chuckled again. "I like when you call me Spencer. JJ does it too. It's nice."

Y/n tried not to internalize that. "Well if this is us becoming friends then I require you to have a personal nickname given to you by yours truly which only I use," Y/n warned him. After what he had done for her, standing up for her, she couldn't think of them as anything else. It was weird, as the words made her anxiety spike. Was she slipping again? Would these things lead to her obsession again? She wouldn't have to stalk him anymore- now she was right by his side, all alone. What if she was taking advantage of that situation? What would happen if he rejected her friendship? What if they got into an argument? What if his sudden interest in her was just that she was the new kid in town and it faded and they became casual acquaintances after a little while? What if... what if he met someone and that smile he wore now was for them instead?

Y/n felt jealousy twist her gut and she tried not to book it out of the room right then and there.

"I would love that."

Her eyes focused back on him and his smile seemed to waver, picking up on her mood change immediately. "Perfect," she whispered, struggling to speak around the sensation that could only be described as feeling like her ribs crushing into her lungs and heart. She had to blend in though. She couldn't be awkward with Spencer. They were already looking too closely at her. She had to stay calm and keep her distance, but not so much that people noticed and started asking questions. This job meant too much to her she had to get it under control. "How do you feel about Pence?" Her fingers fiddled with each other and his eyes caught the moment immediately. She forced the energy to move to her feet instead, softly tapping where he could not see. "Hm?"

Only then did he answer the question, when she tried to pull his attention away from her body language and to what she had said instead. His eyes stayed trained on her, but he offered a casual, "Whatever you want to call me. I've heard you calling Garcia 'G' and I think that's neat. I've never really had a nickname other than Spence."

"You're right," Y/n mumbled, focusing her mind on the task at hand rather than her pathetic need to be as close to Spencer as possible, in every way she was allowed. GOD she was insane. But that wasn't the concern right now. Right now she needed to think about a nickname for Spencer. "That's too similar. What about just Pen?"

His smile returned and Y/n felt herself relax. "Isn't that Penelope's nickname?"

"We don't use it often, and now people have started to gravitate towards G because I'm a genius and it's way cooler." Spencer grinned and Y/n felt her chest squeeze even tighter. He was beautiful... BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT SHE WAS GOING TO FOCUS ON! "I can think of something else-"

"No I love it," Spencer rushed.

It was Y/n's turn to chuckle.  "I may slip into calling you Penny and you can't judge me for that."

Spencer's fingers brushed hers and she yanked her hand away, seizing up. He seemed to have something suddenly foul tasting in his mouth, but he managed, "I wouldn't ever judge you."

Those words. Oh god. She stood. "I'll get the nurses. Tell them you're awake. You need to eat something." She was gone before he could respond, leaving him confused and alone in her awake.

Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak, but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that.

"Pick up," Y/n spat through a locked jaw to the ringing tone she was hearing. It had wrung too many times. She had called him so much and he hadn't answered once. She knew she wasn't paying him to be her therapist anymore, but he had said they were friends. To call him if she needed someone who understood to give her encouragement, or just to catch up. Why wasn't he answering?!

"Y/n?"

Relief flooded her body. "Michael." Her tense body relaxed all at once and it was so nice she almost toppled over. Someone stared at her and she waved at them awkwardly before turning away and hoping they minded their own business. "Michael I'm losing my mind."

He was quiet for a second. "Talk to me."

Y/n ran through everything that had happened since that first day in her old office when Spencer and his team had first entered her life for real, all up until the hospital visit a few nights ago and how she had been avoiding him ever since. "It's coming back, Kel. BAD. I can't get him out of my head, and every time he gets anywhere near my body gets all tingly. I DREAMT about him last night. He keeps touching me and it's like I'm getting struck by lighting. And then he said my name and my chest gets all crushed up again and I want to know everything about him and be around him all the time and GOD I'm so scared that I'm going to end up like one of these psychotic unsubs. I don't want to quit. I LOVE my job. But if I'm doing it again-"

"Y/n, take a breath. You're forgetting to breathe when you talk again." She paused, forcing herself to intake and exhale air so her body wouldn't seize up. One time she'd talked so much about Spencer that she'd stopped breathing and had fully passed out. It was pathetic and she hated herself for it, but it had happened. "Now, I need you to really think about these questions before you answer them okay?"

"Okay," Y/n encouraged.

"Have you taken pictures of him without his permission or without him being aware?"

Y/n flinched at the memory of burning the shoe boxes, but was relieved to be able to say, "No."

"Have you followed him anywhere without his permission or without him being aware?"

"No," Y/n confirmed again, a little confused. "I don't have to, we work together."

Michael ignored the comment. "Have you learned personal information about him without his permission or without him being aware?"

"No," Y/n said slowly after thinking about it. She'd learned plenty of things, but she'd avoided it as much as possible for this very reason.

"Have you watched him in anyway without his permission or without him being aware?"

Y/n considered that. "No," she finalized, nodding to herself. "I- well I stare at him sometimes from across the room. Is that bad?"

Michael actually laughed. "Not necessarily." he paused, letting Y/n calm down with that reassurance. "How would you feel if Spencer told you he was dating someone tomorrow?"

That familiar icky gut twist returned as she thought about it. "Terrible." The word was heavy with mourning. It had slipped out immediately without her meaning to say it, so she hadn't been able to even sugar coat the response.

There was a fat pause where Michael was quiet, but he spoke again before Y/n's anxiety could get her to say something or voice her panic. "What about if he showed up with a pet, or a family member that he was close to?"

Well what an odd question. "I wouldn't care."

A smile wrung in Michael's voice when he spoke again. "Does he have someone he's as close to or closer to than you?"

"Well he's really good friends with JJ and Morgan."

"How do you feel about them?"

Y/n frowned. "I really like JJ. She actually got me this job and has been the most helpful in helping me get settled, other than Garcia. But... Morgan seems to have some trepidation about me. He liked me at first but then one day he started to get really short with me and started to try and convince everyone that I'm like not fit for this job or something."

"And that's why only JJ and Spencer went after the unsub, right?"

"Yeah," Y/n agreed. "Why is this important, Kel?"

A short pause this time. "Y/n I don't think you're old tendencies are back." That stunned her.

"But I'm doing all the same things."

"You're actually not," Michael argued. "And even when things overlap, like the watching and getting to know him, it's not for the same reasons. You're naturally forming a relationship rather than living out a fantasy that he's not apart of in reality. Do you remember the last time I asked you about Spencer having a pet or a partner?"

Y/n flinched again, but much worse. "Yeah," she mumbled, covering her face.

"What did you tell me?" Michael asked softly.

Y/n's eyes watered. "I told you they made me angry. That I..." She closed her eyes. "That I wanted to get them out of the way from me being with him."

"And what did you tell me just now when I asked again?" There was regret in his voice, but that was obviously from bringing up the terrible memories of the past. There was something else too. Urgency. He wanted Y/n to understand something, but it seemed to be going over her head.

"Uh... I told you it made me sad."

"Why does it make you sad, Y/n?"

She thought about that. "Because he wouldn't look at me anymore. He gets this really soft look in his eyes when he looks at me. Like I have something important to him but he trusts me with it completely. Or like he admires me or looks up to me. It makes me feel really good about myself." She chuckled sheepishly, wincing. "That's probably silly." She didn't pause before continuing, and Michael didn't try to interrupt her or respond, knowing how she got when she spoke about Spencer. "When he touches me, it's really gently, like I might break or like he's shy. I-" she snorted. "I think that's because he's a germaphobe."

That caught Michael's attention. "He's a germaphobe?"

"Yeah," Y/n sighed. "He won't even shake people's hands, and he washed them a lot when he's stressed. He rarely even accepts hugs from the others so I haven't offered, even when he was in the hospital. But that's also probably because I'm pretty sure I'm literally crazy."

"You're not crazy," Michael said first. Y/n smiled a little. It was very reminiscent of the times he had helped her out of the darkest place she'd ever been. Made her feel safe when she thought she was a walking crime scene waiting to happen. He had been her best friend for so long... why had she stopped calling him? "Y/n?" She hummed, letting him know she was listening. "He refuses handshakes and is afraid of germs and is even hesitant to take hugs from people who are practically his family from what you say, but even though you've guys only really known each other well for a little over a week, he's already willing to touch you?"

Now that he mentioned it, that was rather odd. She hadn't considered it before. "I... yeah, I guess."

The smile was back when he spoke again. "Y/n last time we talked about him, you couldn't even say his name without gripping something so hard your knuckles turned white. Now you talk about him like it's a relief to say it. Before he brought you stress and angst and wanting, but now he brings you peace and happiness and a feeling of belonging. You feel sad at the prospect of losing him in any way, rather than angry. Usually when obsessive people who stalk their targets see them with someone else, they get angry. Normal people get sad."

Y/n tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Her eyes were wide with fear. A fear that was so different from but still just as bad as the thought of her fears of seeing herself being obsessed with Spencer Reid. Because if she wasn't obsessed... "What are you trying to say?" Her words begged him not to say it.

He did anyway. "Y/n, I don't think you're possessive or obsessed with him." He spoke slowly, every word filling her body with more and more dread. "I think you have feelings for him, but not bad ones. Normal ones. I think you like him, like people like each other. Like, want to date him like him."

"Oh god," Y/n whispered. "I- I'll call you later okay Michael?" He sighed and hummed, so she rushed to explain. "I swear I will. For real this time. I can't thank you for everything you've done for me but-"

"You're panicking," he realized. "I completely understand. Please don't do anything stupid, okay? These feelings are normal and perfectly okay."

"Yeah," Y/n whispered, nodding even though he couldn't see her. They exchanged a tentative farewell and then she lowered her phone, running a hand through her hair. "Well," she whispered, staring at the ground like it was about to open up and swallow her whole. "Guess it's time to quit my job."

-

Tag List: @ajwantsapancake @urie-bowie-mercury

[reavenedges-lies]

Full Article Below The Cut

Which players should the Penguins protect? Three Post-Gazette staffers play GM

MATT VENSEL

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

mvensel@post-gazette.com

JUL 15, 2021 5:18 AM

Ron Hextall has been mum about which Penguins he plans to protect in next Wednesday’s expansion draft. We have educated guesses but won’t officially find out until the weekend, after teams must formally submit their protected lists to the new Seattle Kraken and the rest of the league.

In the meantime, we decided we would steal Hextall’s comfy GM chair for a moment, kick back our feet, swivel around a little bit and share which players we would protect if Mario Lemieux was crazy enough to let us run the team.

Who’s we? Post-Gazette beat reporters Matt Vensel and Mike DeFabo and columnist Ron Cook, game-day regulars over at PPG Paints Arena.

We also projected which guy the Kraken would grab in each scenario.

All three over us opted to protect seven forwards, three defensemen and a goalie instead of eight overall skaters and a goalie. And while we all agreed on most of the players we would keep, there were a few differences. So we explained the rationale behind our personal protected lists.

Finally, these protected lists are somewhat based on the personal preferences of each of us. But there is some actual intel buried in here. So enjoy, let us know which of us is the smartest and feel free to share your lists, too.

Matt Vensel, Penguins beat reporter:

FORWARDS: Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Jake Guentzel, Bryan Rust, Brandon Tanev, Teddy Blueger and Kasperi Kapanen

The first four guys are no-brainers. Tanev and Blueger are quick calls for me, too. Tanev is a guy who can provide a spark on a random Tuesday in January and help you win playoff games in May. He is also integral to the team’s off-ice chemistry. Blueger has become an effective shutdown center and added 22 points in 43 games last season. The final forward spot comes down to Kapanen and Jeff Carter. Carter is the more useful player to Pittsburgh for 2021-22, especially with Malkin out indefinitely. But I’ll gamble that Seattle passes on the 36-year-old and I will instead keep Kapanen, an imperfect middle-six winger but a tradable asset.

DEFENSEMEN: Kris Letang, Brian Dumoulin and Cody Ceci

Letang and Dumoulin are the easy ones. And young blue-liners John Marino and Pierre-Olivier Joseph are exempt, so need to worry about protecting them. No one else is a priority. Mike Matheson had a nice first season here and fellow lefty Marcus Pettersson is well-rounded with perhaps a little more room to grow. Unfortunately, both have pricey, long-term deals that eat up too much cap room relative to their level of performance. Ceci is an unrestricted free agent but he is someone whom the Penguins should and will consider resigning. I’ll keep his rights, which could maybe be traded for a future asset if we can’t afford him.

GOALIE: Tristan Jarry

Protecting Jarry is not endorsing him as my No. 1 entering 2021-22. I just don’t want to be caught without a goalie when the record screeches on the offseason game of musical chairs. I still hope to bring in a veteran with some semblance of a playoff pedigree to push or potentially outright replace Jarry on the roster.

SEATTLE SELECTS…

Jared McCann. I crossed my fingers that Kraken GM Ron Francis would take one of these bigger cap hits off our books. But they pass on Matheson, Pettersson and winger Jason Zucker and roll the dice on McCann. The former first-rounder has speed, a wicked wrister, versatility and a reasonable $2.9 million salary. The Kraken hope that the 25-year-old finally puts it all together on his fourth NHL team.

Mike DeFabo, Penguins beat reporter:

FORWARDS: Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Jake Guentzel, Bryan Rust, Brandon Tanev, Kasperi Kapanen and Jeff Carter.

The Penguins might be willing to play a game of chicken with Seattle and assume the Kraken will not select a 36-year-old who has just one year remaining on his contract. In fact, I’d expect them to take this bet and leave Carter exposed. But if I’m playing GM? That’s too big of a gamble now that we know Evgeni Malkin underwent significant offseason knee surgery that will force him to miss the beginning of the season. Who knows when Malkin will actually return? Who knows how effective he’ll be at 35 with a wonky wheel and a disrupted offseason program? The Penguins need a reliable insurance policy. Carter is exactly that. Carter fit in seamlessly in the dressing room after he was acquired at the deadline and made his presence felt on the ice, too, scoring 13 goals in 20 games, including playoffs.

DEFENSEMEN: Kris Letang, Brian Dumoulin and Mike Matheson

There’s an argument to be made that the Penguins should leave both Pettersson and Matheson exposed and try to entice Seattle to take one of those long, expensive contracts off their hands. However, the way the Penguins’ speed-oriented system highlighted Matheson’s strengths makes him a player that I wouldn’t want to lose for nothing.

GOALIE: Tristan Jarry

Jarry’s postseason performance didn’t inspire a lot of confidence. But where will the Penguins be if Seattle selects their No. 1 netminder? I’d still try to add a goalie to challenge Jarry for starting time or possibly even supplant him. But knowing he’s on the roster gives the team more options and a safety net.

SEATTLE SELECTS…

Teddy Blueger. Give the 26-year-old center credit. He’s almost always the last player on the ice at practice, fine-tuning his game as he adds an offensive dimension to what’s already a consistent defensive game. But let’s not make him out to be more than he is. He’s still, more or less, a fourth-line center on a team filled with talented forwards. The Penguins would have a much-easier time replacing a fourth-line center than a second-line center like Carter.

Ron Cook, Post-Gazette columnist:

FORWARDS: Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Jake Guentzel, Bryan Rust, Kasperi Kapanen, Brandon Tanev and Teddy Blueger

Only the final spot was difficult for me: Blueger or Jared McCann. I’m gambling the Kraken won’t take Jeff Carter at his advanced age even though he would be a perfect leader on a young team. It would be nice if Seattle would take Jason Zucker and his inflated salary off the Penguins’ hands, but that isn’t going to happen. I went with Blueger over McCann because he is more qualified as a center.

DEFENSEMEN: Kris Letang, Brian Dumoulin and Mike Matheson

The Penguins don’t have to worry about losing much on the blue line. Matheson and Marcus Pettersson are more than expendable because of their high salaries, but the Kraken won’t be interested in either player. It’s good that John Marino is exempt from this draft. I see him coming back next season and having a good year. Getting bigger and tougher on defense should be Ron Hextall’s No. 1 offseason priority. Opponents go virtually untouched in front of the Penguins’ net.

GOALIE: Tristan Jarry.

Penguins management insists it still believes in Jarry despite his playoff flameout. I wasn’t buying any of it until someone I trust in the organization told me that the coaches and players know the truth about Jarry – that he was injured late in the season, didn’t get to practice before the playoff series against the Islanders and lost his edge. I still have my doubts and want to see the team bring in a veteran goaltender to challenge Jarry for playing time. That wouldn’t be good news for Casey DeSmith, who is a solid No. 2 netminder. Who knows? DeSmith might have given the Penguins a better chance against the Islanders if he hadn’t been injured.

SEATTLE SELECTS…

McCann. Sadly. The Penguins won the NHL’s most rugged division last season so you know they are going to lose a good player in the expansion draft. That will be McCann. I will hate to see him go despite the fact he came up small in the postseason the past two years. I see him as a solid NHL player for many years.

First Published July 15, 2021, 5:18am

[mellometal]

Surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.

(Please tell me at least one of you got that reference.)

Anyways, jokes aside, the slaughtering of Dhar Mann’s videos is back and running! I’M BACK. Sorry for the long wait. I’ve had a lot of personal stuff going on, which I’ve been very transparent about and I wasn’t in the right headspace to tear apart Dhar Mann’s videos due to that. 

Y’all are in for a real treat today. Why? Because I’m tearing apart TWO of his videos in ONE post! They’re all the same premise, basically. Both of these videos are about people scamming others out of their money by faking injuries and disabilities! Ain’t that nifty? /s

Both of these videos have these things in common: insurance fraud, scamming people, and faking injuries and disabilities. Obviously, we all know those things are extremely fucked up.

For anyone who’s not aware, Dhar Mann has actually committed fraud in the past that he pleaded no contest to in 2014. Fucking shocker, I know. He’s such a kind soul, right? How could he do something so EVIIILLL? /s

He’s actually never served jail time, let alone was ever arrested, for the five felony counts related to a scheme to defraud the City (Oakland, California) by submitting false claims and receipts in order to receive redevelopment grant money. Those were all from the shit he did back in 2008 and 2009! He stole THOUSANDS of dollars from the city when he was an entrepreneur in the medical marijuana business! Dhar Mann served five years of probation. They let him off easy. Why? Oh, because his parents are super rich too and they paid to get him out of serving a jail sentence. 

In 2018, he made a blog post on entrepreneur.com about his “big mistakes costing him everything”. IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY TO ME. JUST THE WAY HE PUT IT IS HILARIOUSLY BAD AND I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING. Like, BRUH. The fuck did you think was gonna happen? He wrote it out like he was a kid who got in trouble with his parents for not eating his vegetables and had to write out a whole fucking essay as to why it’s important to eat your veggies. It’s THAT bad.

ETA: Here's the link to the article. It's so bad it's funny.

Will there be any response from me? Unfortunately, not this time. These videos are too poorly made for me to make comments about. It wouldn’t be worth it at this point because Dhar Mann has his head up his own ass and won’t listen to the real people he’s actually hurting with his videos. It's obvious they're bad.

It's obvious that insurance fraud is a serious crime. Faking being disabled is disgusting. By faking disabilities, it makes it THAT much harder for disabled people to be taken seriously. It’s sickening.

Onto the first video I want to talk about. This first one has a man who fakes being disabled and fakes injuries all for monetary compensation, a lawyer who encourages her client to do this serious crime, a judge who’s EXTREMELY unprofessional, a few owners of small stores who are the victims of the crime that is injury fraud, and an undercover FBI agent.

Committing insurance fraud can usually end up with a prison sentence of up to five years per false claim (like what this man and his lawyer did in the video), but it can reach up to twenty years. There’s also a penalty that can be up to $250,000 per incident. It’s no joke. (Kids, don't do this, please.)

The first video starts off in a court room. The “victim” (the plaintiff) gives the store owner (the defendant) a piece of his mind, then the guy’s lawyer does the same thing. Hey, as a lawyer, you should know better. That’s extremely unprofessional. The store owner is obviously distraught. He's remorseful. He feels horrible about someone getting hurt in HIS shop, but he’s determined to fight his case. He didn’t do anything wrong.

The judge tells everyone to rise, then says everyone can sit down in an unprofessional way. He tells the plaintiff to tell their side of the story. The lawyer tells the judge that her client tried to grab onto one of the hand bars in the disabled bathroom stall, found that it wasn’t installed properly, and he fell. The store owner interjects and tries to tell the judge that what they were saying wasn’t true...without saying that he objects. The judge gets angry with the store owner...which again, is unprofessional.

The lawyer shows the judge the photos she took as evidence. (I'll get to why these claims are absolute bullshit.) After that, the judge finally tells the store owner to tell his side of the story.

The store owner is adamant about installing the hand bars in the disabled bathroom stall properly, he genuinely had no idea how that even happened, and he's still remorseful. The judge ruled in favor of the "victim", asks for the store owner to pay out $25,000, and court was dismissed.

The lawyer and the "victim" are seen gloating about being successful in pulling off another scheme. The "victim" tells his lawyer that he needed to get out of the wheelchair. His lawyer denies this by saying that she doesn't want to get exposed.

They then go to another independent business to pull off the SAME scam. They do this at a small boutique. The store owner goes around to catch them in the action when he bumps into an undercover FBI agent. The FBI agent asks him what he was doing, and he tells the agent that he’s trying to gather evidence. The agent understands and goes on his merry way.

We see the lawyer going into the dressing room while the “victim” is browsing around for a dress shirt to try on. She goes in with the screwdriver, unscrews the hand bars in the dressing room, then comes back out. The “victim” asks one of the store clerks if he could try on a shirt he picked out, so he goes back there, and he “falls” in the dressing room. LIKE HOW HE “FELL” IN THE DISABLED BATHROOM STALL AT ANOTHER STORE.

What makes these claims absolute bullshit is the fact that the lawyer carried around a screwdriver to uninstall the hand bars to make her client "fall" (she had it sticking out of her suit jacket). Plus, if a disabled person were to actually fall from improperly installed hand bars in the disabled bathroom stall, the holes in the wall wouldn't look clean WHATSOEVER. The screws would not come out clean like if you were to unscrew them out of a wall. Part of the wall and the screws would most likely be ripped out and the disabled person would be SERIOUSLY hurt (depending on the person). Like, you'd have to go to the hospital, most likely. The way that the "victim" "fell" was like he practiced it, like how you would in theatre. (I've practiced how to "fall" safely when I was in theatre for scenes where you have to faint or pass out. There's a trick to doing that without hurting yourself. Theatre kids, you know what I'm talking about.) He was still in the fetal position in his chair on his left side. He had NO injuries whatsoever.

His lawyer JUST so happened to be there! Convenient timing! She introduces herself (even though they clearly know each other already) and tells the people working in the store that she’ll be seeing them in court for their “negligence”. The store clerks have no idea what she’s even talking about and they’re understandably afraid. I don’t think the owner of that boutique was there at the time. (Don’t they have security cameras all over the store? I would think they'd catch onto what the lawyer did in one of the dressing rooms if they did.)

They pull off this scam, they're seen LAUGHING about fucking scamming people and committing a SERIOUS CRIME, and the store owner from earlier catches them when the "victim" gives the wheelchair back to his lawyer. They take the store owner's camera, taunt him, and then the lawyer EATS the SD card! They go off into the sunset, laughing like your stereotypical mean girls in Beverly Hills.

They go back to court, where the store owner is still trying to defend himself. The judge isn't budging at first, the lawyer is acting like the store owner is lying (he isn’t), and the store owner is trying to tell the judge exactly what happened. He’s almost ordered to pay out $25,000, which would mean that he’d have to close down his store to even come up with that kind of money. That stops when the undercover FBI agent goes right into the courtroom to give the judge evidence to prove that the store owner is innocent. Apparently this guy has been investigating these two people for a while and was waiting to catch them. It ends with the lawyer AND the "victim" being arrested and the store owner is proven innocent. He never ends up having to pay the $25,000.

Hey, Dhar Mann. I have a few questions for you.:

Are you projecting? Because you did commit five counts of fraud. You pulling the same shit again? Just curious.

When you add in BIPOC and AAPI characters, why do you have to ALWAYS have to write them as either the victims, the heroes, or you write them to be absolutely awful people? This is ESPECIALLY the case with Black and Hispanic people in your videos. You ALWAYS write these two groups like this mainly, and I don't understand why. The racial aggression in your videos isn't cute. Knock it the fuck off. Why not just write them as normal people, WHICH IS WHAT THEY ARE?

Is your concern for small business owners genuine? Do you actually care about small businesses? Or did you just add them into this video for brownie points to feed the gross excuse for a savior complex you have?

The second video I want to talk about is pretty much the same thing, except this involves a couple and they don't fake disabilities! They do fake being/getting injured though. I’ll call the guy with the nice car “Nice Guy” and the scammers “Scammer 1″ and “Scammer 2″. They don’t have any names, unfortunately.

It starts off with Nice Guy backing out of a parking lot when Scammer 1 "falls" behind the car and yelps out in pain. Nice Guy gets out of the car to see what happened and he’s freaking out because he thinks he just hit someone by trying to back out of a parking lot. He wants to make sure that Scammer 1 is okay.

Scammer 2 runs over to her boyfriend to see that he “fell” behind the car, berates Nice Guy, Scammer 1 is crying out in “pain”, and Nice Guy is trying to come up with a solution. He gives the two scammers $600 and they go on their way. Scammer 2 tells her boyfriend that he put on a great performance. Little did they know that Nice Guy heard everything they said.

But wait, kids! There’s more! It’s fuckin’ wacky!

They go to a little convenience store, Scammer 1 pulls out a water bottle out of one of the fridges that he didn’t pay for, and pours some all over the floor. Scammer 2 happens to walk in, "slip" on the spilled water, and land directly onto her back. The store clerk there goes over to see what happened, Scammer 1 introduces himself as a personal injury lawyer to Scammer 2, and they try to get monetary compensation from the store clerk. Little do they know that Nice Guy was watching them the whole time!

He caught them on camera trying to pull off a scam, he called the cops, and we never see Scammer 1 and Scammer 2 ever again!

Why is it that there were no security cameras in your store the first time around, but they were CONVENIENTLY THERE this time, Nice Guy? You could've proven your case and won the first time!

My thoughts on these videos? Super boring. Ableist as hell. Super unrealistic. They're so poorly made that I didn't even want to make a comment on either of them!

It looks obvious that he's projecting, but I don't know. What do y'all think?

[introvertguide]

The Apartment (1960); AFI #80

The next film on the list that we reviewed was the one of the last black and white films to win best picture, The Apartment (1960). The film actually held the title of last B&W Best Picture winner for 50 years until The Artist came along in in 2011. Along with Best Picture, the film was nominated for 10 Oscars and won Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Art Direction, and Best Editing. The film also won Best Picture from the Golden Globes, the BAFTAs, the Director’s Guild Awards, and the Critic’s Circle Awards. Truly a great synthesis of acting, directing, cinematography, music, and story, this movie is one of the lesser known greatest films of all time. I have more to say about this film, but I want to go over the story in all of its excellence. But first...

SPOILER ALERT!!! THIS COMEDY HAS LEGITIMATE SURPRISES AND SUBJECT MATTER THAT WOULDN’T FLY TODAY!!! TRULY A GREAT FILM THAT NEEDS TO BE SEEN!!! I STRONGLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT INSTEAD OF JUST READING THE STORY LINE!!!

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An opening run of establishing shots with a voice over by the main character lets the audience know that he is a drone accountant at a giant firm with little chance to move up in the world. C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) is a lonely office drudge at a national insurance corporation in New York City. He has lucked out and found a way to leverage his home in order to climb the corporate ladder. Baxter allows four company managers to take turns borrowing his Upper West Side apartment for their extramarital liaisons, which he manages with a detailed schedule. Baxter has not seen any movement, but he is constantly offered the promise of a promotion since he is a “team player.” 

One of the serious down sides of this ploy is that his apartment is in constant use and the bosses are making a mess and drinking all his liquor. C.C. has no place to go some nights so he stays and works late. Because C.C. is constantly going in and out and people can hear women in his apartment, he is starting to develop a different kind of reputation with the other tenants. While unable to enter his own apartment when it is in use, his neighbors assume that their neighbor is a playboy bringing home a different woman every night.

C.C. is able to get glowing performance reports from his four managers and he is able to submit them to the personnel director, Jeff D. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), in hope of a promotion. Sheldrake promises to promote him, but demands that he also receive use of the apartment for his own affairs, beginning that night. As compensation for such short notice, he gives Baxter two theater tickets to The Music Man. After work, C.C. asks Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), an elevator operator in the office building, to go to the musical with him. She agrees but goes first to meet with a "former fling," who turns out to be Sheldrake, and let him know there will be no more meetings. When Sheldrake dissuades her from breaking up with him and promising to divorce his wife for her, they go to the apartment as poor Baxter waits forlornly outside the theater.

Later, at the company's raucous Christmas party (there is dancing on the tables and the lamest strip tease of all time), Fran is told by Miss Olsen (Edie Adams), Sheldrake's secretary, that Sheldrake has also had affairs with her and other women employees. Later at Baxter’s apartment, Fran confronts Sheldrake with his lies. Sheldrake maintains that he genuinely loves her, but that he has no intention of splitting up with his wife. He then leaves to return to his suburban family as usual and Fran is so depressed that she finds sleeping pills in the apartment bathroom and attempts suicide.

Baxter learns through finding a dropped hand mirror that Fran is the woman Sheldrake has been taking to his apartment, so he goes to a bar and lets himself be picked up by a married woman. When they arrive at his apartment, he is shocked to find Fran in his bed, seemingly dead. He sends his pick-up away and enlists the help of his neighbor, Dr. Dreyfuss (Jack Krushen), to revive Fran without notifying the authorities. I should not laugh, but it is pretty funny that the doctor goes straight to slapping Fran in the face to wake her up. The actors did not hold back; he is slapping her in the face really hard, so much so that you can tell her cheeks are reddening even in black and white. Baxter makes Dreyfuss believe that he was the cause of the incident and, scolding his neighbor for his apparent philandering, Dreyfuss advises him to "be a mensch, a human being."

As Fran spends two days recuperating in the apartment, C.C. takes care of her, and a bond develops between them, especially after he confesses to having attempted suicide himself over unrequited feelings for a woman who now sends him a fruitcake every Christmas. While they play a game of gin rummy, Fran reveals that she has always suffered bad luck in her love life. As Baxter prepares a romantic dinner, one of the managers arrives with a woman. Although Baxter persuades them to leave, the manager recognizes Fran and informs his colleagues. Later confronted by Fran's brother-in-law, Karl Matuschka, who is looking for her, the managers direct Karl to the apartment out of jealousy. At the apartment, Karl's anger at Fran for her behavior is deflected by Baxter, who again takes responsibility. Karl punches C.C. (and interviews with Lemmon revealed that the punch did land), but when Fran kisses him for protecting her, he just smiles and says it "didn't hurt a bit."

Sheldrake learns that Miss Olsen told Fran about his affairs, so he makes the poor choice of firing the woman who knows of all his dealings, and she retaliates by meeting with Sheldrake's wife, who promptly throws her husband out. Sheldrake believes that this situation just makes it easier to pursue his affair with Fran. Having promoted C.C. to an even higher position, which also gives him a key to the executive washroom, Sheldrake expects Baxter to loan out his apartment yet again. Baxter gives him back the washroom key instead, proclaiming that he has decided to become a mensch, and quits the firm.

That night at a New Year's Eve party, Sheldrake indignantly tells Fran what happened. Realizing she is in love with Baxter, Fran abandons Sheldrake and runs to the apartment. At the door, she hears what sounds like a gunshot. Fearing that Baxter has attempted suicide again, she frantically pounds on the door. Baxter answers, holding a bottle of champagne whose cork he had just popped in celebration of his plan to start anew. As the two settle down to resume their gin rummy game, Fran tells C.C. that she is now free too. When he asks about Sheldrake, she replies, "We'll send him a fruitcake every Christmas." He declares his love for her, and she replies, "Shut up and deal."

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This film is one of the most praised movies of all time, but it is not one of the most generally well known. This is probably due to the subject matter, although It’s A Wonderful Life also deals with suicide and is one of the America’s most popular family films. The problem is most likely that extra marital affairs by big company management as a normal thing was highly frowned upon. With the whole #MeToo movement, it seems that this kind of philandering culture might very well have been a known problem for decades. A movie based around the premise that office managers need a nice place to have sex with secretaries and elevator girls would not have been acceptable under the Hays Code. This is also the second film on the AFI list where Fred MacMurray plays a bad guy before being the understanding patriarch on My Three Sons and the first person honored as a Disney Legend in 1987. Fun fact, MacMurray was an uncredited extra in a film called Girls Gone Wild in 1929.

Billy Wilder knew that this was going to be a divisive film due to content, but he also had the confidence that everything would work out following the massive success of his previous film, Some Like It Hot. Wilder had considered a film based on adultery back in the 1940s but was unable to get funding at the time due to the Hays Code. The film was also based on a real life Hollywood drama in which an agent was shot by a producer over an affair (in which a low level employee apartment was used) as well as a friend of a co-writer who returned home to a dead ex-girlfriend following a break-up. 

It is amazing to think that this film is described as a comedy. There are office politics in which mid-level managers use local celeb status to take advantage of their subordinates. There are half a dozen cheating husbands that string along their affairs. There are characters so hurt that they would rather die than deal with what is done with them. There are raging parties at work where everyone gets massively drunk and dance on the desks. Women are treated like objects that either need to be protected with violence or thrown away. And yet the film is legitimately fun with characters that are worth rooting for.

Some of the success rides on the fabulous acting of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine and the witty dialogue written by I.A.L. Diamond. In fact, the dialogue and limited characters feels a lot like a stage play, which come to fruition in the form of Promises, Promises on Broadway by Burt Bacharach, Hal David, and Neil Simon. Dealing with real sets and locations, however, resulted in some colds and sickness since the actors were really out in the New York snow. Some other realism in the film came from both lead actors taking blows for the film: Shirley MacLaine got proper slapped by the doctor and Jack Lemmon was really punched by the brother-in-law.

A stand out aspect for me in this film which I talk up quite a bit is the cinematography. I have used many screen grabs from the film and used them as my avatar. I identify with the feeling of being used for something which made a mid manager look good while allowing them to do bad things. In fact, I am sure that everyone has felt like a Baxter at some point, and it is great to see him stand up for himself. Here are a couple of screen grabs (besides the top photo above) that I have used:

That lonely man in the middle of countless empty desks, that look of frustration when others are using your things to live a better life than you, and that time that love makes utility become fun and gadgets seem pretentious. It is very easy for me to get lost in how much I love this film. It has been far and away my favorite find from the AFI Top 100 between when I first saw the film in 2014 and now.

So, should the film be on the top 100 list? It has the awards and the history along with being a fantastic film. Of course it belongs on the list. Would I recommend it? Yes. This film is the type that makes people like me want to go through lists like this. I had never heard of the film in 2014 and it floored me how good it was. Each time I watch I appreciate it more, and the whole film project becomes well worth my time and effort. This film is so good, it affirms my life choices. I invite and implore you to check it out for yourself.

[imagining-supernatural]

The Second Check-In

Part 12 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You and Sebastian discuss how to handle dealing with the press and media now that word is out that he’s married, then you go to the second-check in and see how your tumor is doing.

Word Count: 2,644

The picture that was taken when you were getting into the car showed half of your face and it was splashed everywhere. It seemed like the entire world wanted to know who Sebastian Stan’s mystery wife was. You’d decided it was probably best if he didn’t take you to the hospital on Monday and he’d reluctantly agreed. So, while you enjoyed your anonymity a little longer, he had a video conference with his agent and PR team.

As you got ready to leave after your infusion, a nurse stopped you and let you know that Dr. Chowdhury wanted to see you before you left.

“I am an old man, but I do have grandkids,” he started off. It was an odd beginning to a conversation between a doctor and his patient, but your life was one whole jumble of weird, so you shrugged it off. “So I see the headlines sometime, and, if I’m not mistaken, the man who comes in with you so often has been hitting headlines lately. Or, rather, you have been.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“You don’t need to worry about the hospital staff. Patient confidentiality, you know. But the other patients are not bound by the rules we are. I do not want to cause any undue stress, but it is imperative to your treatment that you remain in a positive frame of mind. So I was wondering if you would prefer we move you to a private room while you are here.”

“I—that’d probably be smart.”

He nodded and made a note in your chart. “Good. Also, tomorrow we’ll run you through some more scans. I want to see the progress this new medication is making.”

“What if—” You really didn’t want to know the answer to this question, but you needed to ask it anyway. “What if there hasn’t been any progress? What if the tumor just won’t shrink?”

“We have one more course of action we can take should it come to that. We aren’t giving up on you, Y/N. Don’t give up on us just yet.”

“This journalist said they like my hair,” you mentioned conversationally as Sebastian puttered around the kitchen, making dinner.

“It’s good hair.”

“It is good hair, isn’t it? I’m glad neither of my treatments caused hair loss.”

Besides the photo that leaked from the Vegas wedding and the one from the diner, no other pictures or new information had come to light. So far, you hadn’t seen any outright negativity in the news regarding you or Sebastian. Mostly because the headlines were focused on you as a Mystery Woman. As soon as the veil lifted and the truth came to light, you were sure things would turn ugly. But for now, you would enjoy the neutrality.

“You haven’t read any comments, have you?”

“Nope. I promised I wouldn’t and, as Dr. Chowdhury said today, it is imperative that I maintain a positive attitude for my treatment to work,” you said, trying your best to match his Indian accent. However, much like your aptitude for foreign languages, you were downright dismal at accents.

“You talked to Dr. Chowdhury?”

“Yeah.” You set down your phone and waited until Seb looked at you. “Can you come with me tomorrow? We’re running scans and he’s gonna let me know if this treatment is actually shrinking the tumor. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go alone, considering how I reacted last time.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “What time’s the appointment?”

“Two. I know you’re going on some talk shows here in the city this week. Will that work for you?”

He nodded. “I’m going on Late Night with Seth tomorrow. Should have enough time.” Sebastian checked on the soup on the stove before rounding the island and taking a seat next to you. “Speaking of… Have you thought any more about what you’re comfortable with me talking about on TV?”

“A little. As much as I’d love for you to veto all questions about me, I think your PR team is right. You probably should acknowledge the elephant.”

“Are you calling yourself fat?” He gasped in fake offense.

“Elephant in the room, you idiot.”

“I’m your idiot, though.”

Okay, so you knew you were technically married to the man, but it still felt wrong to feel butterflies in your stomach when he teased you like that.

Friends. That’s all you were in actuality.

“And as my idiot,” you kept it going, ignoring how much you loved saying those words, “I think you should definitely acknowledge that you’re married. I don’t think I’m comfortable with my name being out there, though.”

He nodded. “I figured that. And I agree.”

“Part of me wants to play it safe and pretend like we’ve known each other for a while. Like, long-distance relationship thing. But another part of me hates the lie. And also, as someone who grew up on Harry Potter fanfiction, this accidental marriage trope would just be eaten up by your fans.”

“Which means we’d probably stay in the spotlight longer,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. And you’d have to explain why we stayed married. Mentioning that your wife has cancer is kind of a downer for a talk show like Seth’s.”

Wife. Rather than think about how the word applied to you, you chose to replay the John Mulaney segment in your head as a nice distraction from those damn butterflies in your stomach.

That’s my WIFE!

“Do you feel comfortable with me telling everyone you have cancer?” He asked.

At some point during this conversation, you’d grabbed his hand and were now playing with his fingers. You kept your eyes on where your fingers were massaging his as you contemplated the question. It was the only one you hadn’t come to conclusion about before now.

“I don’t know…”

“Think out loud. Maybe I can help.”

“Okay, so, on one hand, if you mention I have cancer, that would be a great time to ask for privacy. You know. Play the pity card. Say how I’m going through treatment and the stress would make it harder for me. Which is the truth.”

“On the other hand…” he prompted.

“If you leave that part out I might seem less interesting and the spotlight might move on faster, you know? And I’m a private person, as you know.”

He grinned. “Oh, yes. I remember, Y/N no-middle-name Y/L/N.”

His reminder of the first day you were in the city made you laugh. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago. If only you’d known that you would be putting your entire life in his hands less than two days later…

“You know what? I trust you, Seb. The only hard line I’m drawing is my name. I want to keep that out of the light as long as I can. For the rest… you’re better at this publicity thing than I am. You’ve talked to your PR team. I trust your judgment.”

“That’s so sweet,” he cooed, freeing one of his hands to wipe away imaginary tears. “You’re making me cry, Y/N.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up and check on the soup.”

“You asked me to be here so—”

“If I’d known you’d be so annoying I wouldn’t ha—”

“Just give me your fucking hand, dammit. I’m trying to be supportive!” Sebastian scooted his chair over and grabbed both of your hands out of your lap, gripping them on the armrest victoriously. “Now I have both of your hands. Whatchu gonna do ‘bout that, huh sweetheart?”

Glare at him, was your answer, though the shock of the new pet name dampened the fire behind it. It was a few minutes after two ‘o clock and you were waiting in Dr. Chowdhury’s office. A nurse let you know he’d be a few minutes late which immediately made your blood pressure skyrocket.

And that’s how you found yourself arguing with Sebastian about him holding your hand.

You huffed, but shifted in the seat so you could more comfortably keep your hands in his.

“Glad to see you two getting along so well,” an amused British accent you hadn’t heard in a few weeks said, alerting you to her presence in the room.

“Helen!” Seb released your hands for long enough to stand, give her a hug, and shake Dr. Chowdhury’s hand before sitting back down and expectantly putting his hands on the armrest of your chair. Neither doctor said anything as you stared down your husband. It was only when he quirked his eyebrow that you sighed and gave him your hands again.

“Sorry ‘bout that. He’s trying to become the personification of the phrase way too over-supportive,” you shot both doctors a tolerant grin.

“There is no such thing when it comes to treatment,” Dr. Sharpe said, grinning as she sat next to Dr. Chowdhury behind his desk.

“Told you,” Seb muttered to you.

“Shut up, the adults are talking,” you whispered back. To the doctors, you said, “So, I don’t know whether to be scared or happy that both of you are here.”

“We are seeing progress, Y/N,” Dr. Chowdhury said simply.

“Progress,” you repeated softly. The word felt foreign in your mouth.

“What does that mean?” Seb asked, squeezing your fingers.

Dr. Chowdhury sat forward, clasped hands resting on his desk. “It means that your scans showed that the tumor is shrinking. Slower than we would have hoped, but it is shrinking.”

“And before you say anything,” Dr. Sharpe broke in, “It is enough. While the progress is slower than we planned for, we both agree that if it continues like this, the tumor should grow small enough to remove it. It just might take longer than we planned for.”

“It’s shrinking,” you whispered, still processing this good news. Despite your better mood, you’d still been expecting bad news when you came in.

“It’s shrinking,” Dr. Chowdhury confirmed, smiling.

This treatment was working. There was progress. It was shrinking.

“How much longer do you think it will take?” Seb asked.

Dr. Chowdhury nodded his approval of the question. “That is why both Helen and I are here today. You have a decision to make and we are both of different minds. As you know, I have kept Dr. Sharpe appraised of your progress during this study. We have conferred frequently, so though this is my study, her opinion is very much valid. And both options are medically sound.”

You nodded, ready to listen.

Dr. Chowdhury went first. “I would like to adjust your infusion cocktail one more time. This approach is quite aggressive, but my hope is that the tumor will begin to shrink more rapidly and you can have your surgery at the time we originally planned for.”

“I believe,” Dr. Sharpe took over the conversation at this point, “That it would be best to continue your infusions as they are. We estimate you will have to continue treatment for a month longer, at least, before surgery. But the progress you’ve made in the last week is promising, and you will not have to go through another period of adjusting to the new medication.”

“Option one is a more aggressive treatment plan that would keep us on schedule, and option two is to continue on with the current treatment and wait longer for the surgery?” Sebastian summarized. Both doctors nodded.

“One concern my doctor back home had about more aggressive treatment options was that my body would be too weak for surgery.” You looked at Dr. Chowdhury. “Is that a concern with the more aggressive treatment?”

“It is always a concern. One that I have considered. With how you’ve responded to the increased dosage over the last two weeks, I believe that you will not have to worry about being too weak for surgery. However, if I am wrong about that, there are a few courses of action I have in mind that would help so you can still have the surgery.”

You and Sebastian asked questions for a few more minutes until you felt you had enough information to continue the discussion alone. Since this decision wasn’t as time-pressing as the decision to begin treatment had been, Dr. Chowdhury suggested you two go home and come back the next day with your decision.

Before heading back to the apartment, Sebastian had Sean, your driver, drop you two off at the grocery store. There were a few things you both needed and, for the first time in a while, you felt up to walking around for a bit. So you braved being in public with Sebastian and only teased him a little for his choice of hat. Hopefully it would help keep his anonymity, and by extension, yours.

“Oreos?” You asked hopefully, knowing full well Sebastian wouldn’t say no. You were eating better, but any time you got excited over some food, you could see him mentally putting that dish on a list of meals that you were sure to eat. And even though Oreos weren’t healthy, they were food nonetheless.

“Regular? Double stuffed? Mint?”

“Mmm,” you considered, looking up at the shelves upon shelves of cookies. Your energy was slowly depleting, and you found yourself leaning against the cart more and more. Still, you were enjoying the little trip. “Regular is better to dip in milk, but double stuff is better if you don’t have milk. And you can never go wrong with mint…”

“You want all three?” He shot you a look with an amused eyebrow quirk.

“I mean, yes. But that’s a lot of Oreos to eat before they go stale. Why don’t they have a triple pack? Each row is a different kind? That would sell great.”

Surprise covered his face. “That’s… actually a good idea.”

“Don’t sound so shocked. I have good ideas every once in a while.”

“After you made me watch that one movie about the sexually transmitted demon, I’m not so sure.”

Your laughter rang down the aisle. “Okay, fair point.” Rolling the cart forward, you grabbed a pack of mint Oreos and tossed it by the boxed brownies you’d also conned him into getting. He tried talking you out of it, saying you could stop by the bakery down the street and get better brownies, but your counter point that you couldn’t eat half the brownie batter from the bakery had won you the round.

“What’s next?” you asked. “Ice cream?”

“You’re supposed to be eating healthy,” he pointed out.

“Look, can we just be happy that I’m finally getting my appetite back? You can lecture me about calories or saturated fats or whatever tomorrow.” Giving him your best puppy dog eyes, you pouted out your bottom lip. “Please? I might just wither away if I don’t have cheesecake ice cream tonight.”

He mumbled under his breath before starting to walk away.

You followed him, ignoring the squeaky wheel on your cart. “What was that?”

“If you spend more than two minutes choosing which flavor of ice cream, you’re not getting any,” he replied. That wasn’t what he had mumbled, you were sure, but you let it go.

“I’ll do you one better. If Ben and Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake isn’t stocked, I won’t get ice cream at all. Deal?”

“Deal. So, ice cream, produce section… anything else?”

With a head shake, you pushed forward until you were walking right next to Sebastian. He glanced at you and you gave him a soft grin. “Thank you, Seb. You’re the best.”

He tossed his arm around your shoulder and pulled you slightly closer. After pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head, he gave you a cocky grin. “I know I am, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

First in Dr. Chowdhury’s office and now here. That damn word was going to be the death of you, you swore.

Any ideas what it was Seb said under his breath?? And how do you think the interview later tonight is going to go? 

Chapter 13: The First Interview