#i had a break after finishing s1

[thefrogdalorian]

Star Wars really gave us a mysterious, helmeted bounty hunter with a deep gravelly voice and formidable reputation, who - despite being a great fighter - has a calmness and gentleness about him (and a slutty waist) and then on top of that made him a greAT FATHER??

I mean how could we not fall in love... Din Djarin you are everything!!!

[herjuhodivine]

ㅤ        ㅤ            ⠀ꕀ⠀𝆹⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀ִ⠀ worthless talking ⠀ּ ּ    ✧

Arguments with various characters

S1! jinx , S2! vi , S2! caitlyn , and ekko x fem! reader

arguing , mention of having a crush ( vi ) , hurt/no comfort , cursing , mentions of marriage ( caitlyn ) , drinking ( vi ) , mention of reader working in the brothel ( not prostitute ( vi ) ) , suspected cheating ( caitlyn ) , injured reader ( ekko )

not proofread or requested

masterlist ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა navigation

love is my curse ( part 2 )

JINX

arguments with her are usually light and can easily be dismissed or solved quickly but this is very different. silco has been pressuring her as of late about her weapon for the hex gemstone; which has been stressing her out and getting more irritated by everything little thing. “jinx baby?” you spoke softly, trying to not make her anymore irritated. “yes toots?” she frantically looking back and forth at her parts and blueprints for her fishbones, “are you doing okay? do you eat?”

she shrugged her shoulders, continuing to screw the screws in. you silently gulped and walked closer to her. “listen baby…can you take a break or something? i don’t remember the last time you slept or even eat and—” “shut up.” you immediately looked her way like you misheard her. “i-im sorry what..?” she kissed her teeth, “ i said shut up! all you ever do is nag and nag around me! do ever shut up? i’m trying to work so i can hurry up and finish this project, but no you just can’t seem to leave me alone while you’re—” she stops mid sentence, looking to see where you were last standing, “y/n?” she asked to absolutely nothing. she rolled her eyes, not bothering to think about you anymore, too focused on the hexgem project.

walking through the streets of Zaun, tears blurring your vision as you do your best to wipe them away but if anything you made your mind clear as day in Piltover; she doesn’t need you there anymore. continuing to walk through the lanes until you reached your home.

VI

pitfights. you hate no—loath them. so imagine your reaction to hearing that your crush becamea pitfighter after that massive fall out with the stupid top side girl. you watched as a friend of hers drag her up the stairs then she starts pushing him off and telling him to fuck off. you watch as the friend just walked away; already tired of her bullshit.

you breathe, mentally preparing yourself and your lecture of what you want to say as you head up the stairs slowly until you reached the door. out of curiosity, you reached for the doorknob, and its unlocked. ‘of course this idiot wouldn’t lock the door.’ you thought, twisting it and slowly pushing the door, seeing vi collapsed on the bed but still awake. you clear your throat loudly, catching her attention as you stand close to the now closed door. “vi.” your voice cautious but fed up. watching her destroy herself over a top side is so pathetic, even jinx powder would laugh in her face. vi groaned tiredly, “can’t seem to catch a fucking break anymore.”

“fuck a break! what do you think you’re doing?!” you wave your hand around, as you often talk with your hands. “what the hell are you talking about…!?” vi retorted back. “look around you vi, and your hair! your outfit! you’re a damn pitfighter.” you pointed at everything you mentioned, “why?! is it because of that fall out you had with that stupid top side girl..?!” vi abruptly gets up and stands in front of you. the smell of strong beer and whiskey clog your nose, in her breath, her clothes, everywhere, “don’t you dare bring her up.” you scoffed, “why not? she treats you like shit but now you’re a floor licking puppy for her..?” you stare at her, raised eyebrow, “at least she was better than you in many ways than one.” “excuse me?” “get the fuck out y/n. go back to being a fucking prostitute or something.” “i’m not a prosti—” she punched the wall next to your head, you flinch, hard. “out.” her voice threatening. your hands and feet quickly move as you open the door and fumble out of the apartment was vi was was.

CAITLYN

a lot has happened in a short amount of time, well, caitlyn proposed to you, then jinx blew up the council and killed her mother, then your fiancée became a damn Dictator and has been worked and training nonstop with Ambessa, and you’re starting to worry. she has been looking burned out a lot more and tired to even notice you sitting next to her on her desk as she stresses over paperwork.

“dear?” you twirled your finger around her loose hair. she jumps a bit, snapping out her thoughts and looking up to see her fiancée, you, “sorry darling, do you need something?” she fidgets with her pen and fingers, you smile at her weakly, “your dinner is cold.” you point to the cold dinner plate, nothing eaten on the side table next to her. caitlyn sighs heavily. “right, i apologize my dear, ill…make sure to eat.” “this is the fourth time dear. you can’t be a commander with zero energy.” you cross your arms over your chest, “i know know i’m just” “i’m starting to think ambessa was a bad idea again. i worried about all this pressure and process. like especially after your mother died, this isn’t good..” caitlyn’s fist banged against the desk, stopping you mid sentence.

“i don’t need your pity or concerns right now.” you stare at her, confused. “what are you talking about right now dear?” “i’m saying you talk too damn much.” she stood up, the chair scratches against the floor and walks away from the desk, “where are you going?” you asked while sliding off the desk, “out. i need some fresh air.” you tilt your head to the side and keep your arms crossed, “fresh air? or maddie?” the blued hair commander stopped dead in her tracks, “what…what did you just say?” you scoffed, as you walked past her, bumping her shoulder. you open the door, revealing maddie with paper works in her hands, “i’ll take my leave.”

EKKO

patrolling the area around the safe area, but your mind consumed with the thoughts of your boyfriend, he’s starting to overworking again. and that’s pissing you off. months of you guys dating and he still doesn’t get the memo. you sat on top of the tunnel entrance towards the hideout. staring up at the stars, wishing ekko was here with you.

suddenly, you feel a long cold metal jabbed into your side. you immediately clutch it to stop it from entering further until the culprit kicked you in the back, causing you to roll off the top and your body thudding against the cold concrete then you saw black. you wake up, the knife removed and you’re wrapped in bandages around your stomach and your arm is in a cast. your eyes adjust to the light shining down upon you, you wince as a headache rises and you hear muffled sounds of someone screaming your name. once your mind finally adjusts to everything, you hear ekko,

“hey hey hey! firebug! what happened?” his hands placing everywhere patting you down. you wince again, “ekko…that hurts..” you fully open your eyes. “what happened? why did someone find you outside of the base, bleeding out?” he raised his voice, not scary but scared. “i…i was patrolling around the entrance and—” “patrolling? didn’t i say you’re not allowed to patrol unless i’m there?” his voice switch to low. “i can take care of myself ekko.” he gritted his teeth, “well clearly you can not! look at you now! you don’t ever listen huh?” he started pacing back and forth, “it’s like you’re deaf or something, i said no! and you do the entire fucking opposite!” he grabs his mask and hoverboard, stops to say something but rejected that idea and just left.

ekko was so hard to do ngl cause what has he done for to cause an argument🧍‍♀️and you notice how short-ish jinx is? yea cause i can never actually be mad at jinx.

©︎ J U H Ō . all rights reserved. please don't plazarize, copy, or steal any of my works without my permission, thank you !

[drfruitcake]

Mrs. Robinavitch

Michael Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Wife!Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+/MDNI (smut, language) Word count: ~3,300 Tags: reader insert, female reader, no use of y/n, married, established relationship, explicit sexual content, smut, workplace sex, workplace quickie, p in v sex, no beta

Summary: A new resident decides to flirt with you, oblivious to the fact that you're married to his senior attending. Your husband isn't a fan. Or, you and jealous Robby have a little workplace quickie.

Notes: Just a random little dose of silly workplace smut. Reader is a female ob/gyn but no age is established. Meant to take place a few years after S1.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

The emergency department of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center bustles with its typical controlled chaos. It’s a Friday afternoon and you’d be lying if you said your mind isn’t on your weekend plans as you wander into the ER for a pregnancy case.

You smile at familiar faces as you make your way past the nurses’ station, offering a friendly wave at Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker before you dip inside Room 6.

“Who is that?” Gavin Meyer asks as he doesn’t bother to conceal his pitiful stare. He’s an R3 transfer in his first week at The Pitt. 

“Oh, that’s R-”

Gavin is too busy gawking after you to notice Trinity pinching Dennis’ arm behind the desk, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

“She’s an OB,” Trinity cuts in. 

“She’s stunning,” Gavin breathes. Dennis’ eyes go wide as Trinity bites back a snort. “Is she single?”

“She’s a little out of your league,” Trinity responds slowly.

“Oh, come on,” Gavin pleads. “The least you can do is introduce me. What if I get an OB case?”

“Introduce yourself,” Trinity answers. “She doesn’t bite… that I know of.” Dennis merely opens and closes his mouth, like a fish in moral despair.

Gavin’s posture straightens as the door to Room 6 reopens, but it’s Dr. Robby who emerges. 

“Everything good here?” he asks as he strides behind the central desk.

“All good,” Trinity answers with a chipper tone. “Just helping Meyers get acclimated to some of the faces around here.”

“Good,” Dr. Robby replies as he glances at Gavin. “Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself to people, get to know them. We’re all here to help.”

Dr. Robby doesn’t realize his words are going to bite him in about 20 seconds, when you emerge from Room 6 and make a beeline to the group at the desk.

“Hey,” you greet Trinity and Dennis. “How’s it going?”

“Hi,” Gavin immediately interjects with an outstretched hand. It catches you off guard, but you recover smoothly and offer him a kind smile. “I’m Dr. Meyer. R3.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say politely. “I’m Dr.-”

“Dr. Robby!” Samira Mohan appears from Trauma Room 1 with impeccable, albeit accidental, timing. “We need you in here! Whitaker, you too!”

“Come on.” Dennis motions for Gavin to follow him, leaving you with Trinity.

“New resident,” you muse as you watch them scurry away. “He’s cute.” Trinity lifts an eyebrow at you and you snort. “Oh please,” you add. “I promise I’m not interested. I’m a married woman, after all.”

You return upstairs to the birthing ward until you inevitably get called back down to the ER. This time, it’s for a newborn who had been discharged the previous day.

Gavin is alone when you pass the nurses’ desk to leave. You offer him a smile and a nod. 

“Hey, I didn’t get your name earlier,” he says quickly, stopping you in your tracks. You blink at him in confusion.

“The others didn’t tell you?” you ask with narrowed eyes. It's not that you assume everyone in the hospital knows you and your husband, but well, they do.

“No.”

“Oh,” you say as the realization settles. Fucking Santos. She’s done this before, but you can’t help but play along. You give Gavin your first name, intentionally omitting the last, and lean against the desk to strike up more conversation with him, at least until Trinity can return and break the bad news to Gavin. “So, what brings you to Pittsburgh?” you ask casually. “I assume you’re a transfer?”

“Transferred from Charlotte,” Gavin responds. “I help take care of my grandmother. Needed to be closer to her.”

“Ah, I see,” you say kindly. “I’m sure she’s glad to have you around. Are the two of you close?”

“We are,” Gavin says. “She’s the reason I got into medicine. She was a nurse.”

You catch his eyes flickering toward your left hand in search of a ring. You don’t wear yours at work – not because you want to appear single, but because you’d die if you lost the precious diamond ring you were gifted three years ago.

“That’s wonderful,” you offer, your eyes catching a glimpse of Dr. Robby, who has emerged from Trauma Room 2. The two of you lock eyes for a fleeting moment before you return your attention to Gavin. “I bet your grandmother’s so proud of you,” you continue.

“She is,” Gavin says happily. You can feel Robby’s gaze burning into the side of your head, but Gloria corners him before he can insert himself into your conversation with Gavin. From your spot by the desk, you watch from the corner of your eye in pure amusement while Robby and Gloria bicker about some administrative nonsense.

Meanwhile, Gavin turns up the charm. He leans closer to you as he speaks, eyes dancing over your features in clear interest.

“So, are you from Pittsburgh?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, Cleveland,” you answer. “But I did my residency here and obviously never left.”

“I take it you like Pittsburgh then?”

You offer a smile and a shrug. “It’s pretty alright,” you answer. “The people here at the hospital are great and the city’s not so bad. Where did you grow up?”

“I grew up in Richmond, Virginia,” Gavin replies. “So I’m pretty new to Pittsburgh.”

Robby’s face is turning red. You can see his agitation swelling as Gloria prattles on. He crosses and uncrosses his arms impatiently, unable to suppress a grunt of annoyance.

“Well, welcome,” you continue, offering Gavin a gentle touch to the forearm. “I’m sure you’ll adjust and grow to love it here.”

“Would be better if I had someone to show me around,” Gavin says. He trails off and waits, eyes studying you for a reaction, begging you to take the bait. You know this game all too well. It’s not the first time a resident has flirted with you, and you secretly hope it won’t be the last. Not because you’re actually trying to flirt, nor are you even seeking attention; you merely enjoy the entertainment in an otherwise predictable environment. And you know others, like Trinity, need the amusement, too.

That’s why you flash Gavin a bright smile and feign surprise at his suggestion. “I’d be happy to show you some cool spots sometime,” you say just loud enough for people around the desk to hear. That includes Robby, Gloria, Perlah and Trinity.

“Really? That’d be great,” Gavin says, his eyes scanning yours for any sort of sign to indicate mutual interest.

You don’t dare look at Robby; you know better. But everyone else nearby is treating this like live theater, and they can see the tightness in his jaw, clenched so hard he might crack his teeth.

“Of course,” you tell Gavin innocently. “In fact, we could make it a group thing.” You try not to laugh as Gavin’s expression immediately falls, but you know you can't lead him on or give him the wrong idea. “A bunch of us here at the hospital have been trying to make plans to go out for months now. This would be as good a reason as any to actually put a plan in motion.”

“Oh,” Gavin says, his lips thinning in disappointment. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Awesome,” you say merrily. “Sounds like fun.”

“Dr. Meyer,” Robby’s voice cuts in. He’s finally managed to shrug off Gloria, who has turned her attention to a conversation with Dana. “Don’t you have any patients to check on?” Robby asks, his voice gruff.

“Oh, right,” Gavin says, clearly fearful of angering Robby. He sneaks a glance at you and smiles. “Hopefully I'll see you later.”

You wave after him before you finally dare to look Robby in the eyes. He peers at you from behind his glasses, but you can see a storm swarming in his irises.

“Everything alright, Dr. Robinavitch?” you ask innocently, tilting your head to the side as you gaze at him.

“Actually, no,” Robby answers curtly. “It seems people think the ER is a place to meet hot singles, considering all the flirting happening in front of me.”

You snort as you push off from the desk’s edge, preparing to retreat to the elevator. “I don’t see any hot singles,” you laugh as you turn your back. You stride toward the elevator, unaware that Robby has vacated the desk area to reach you in record time.

“Not so fast,” he growls in your ear as you jump in surprise. His fingers curl around your forearm as he redirects you from Elevator 2 toward a vacant bathroom. His eyes sweep over the corridor to ensure no one’s around before he nudges you into the bathroom.

“Real professional, Dr. Robinavitch,” you deadpan, crossing your arms as you peer up at him in annoyance while he turns the lock. You want to appear tough, but you also know you and Robby are probably a comical sight, given the way his tall, broad frame looms over you.

“You want to talk about professionalism?” he rasps with raised eyebrows. “You’re the one flirting with my residents in my ER.”

“I don’t flirt with residents,” you fire back, your lips parting in an amused smile. “They flirt with me.”

“You think this is funny?” Robby steps closer to you but you hold your ground and his gaze with conviction, daring him to act.

“I find it rather hilarious,” you muse. "You're jealous." Robby reaches swiftly, fisting a ball of your hair with his hand as he forces you backward. You realize he isn’t doing so for the power – he’s ensuring your head doesn’t smash against the wall behind you. Leave it to him to look out for your safety, even when he’s trying to assert his dominance.

“That resident is disrespecting me in my own ER,” Robby continues as he presses you against the wall. “And you’re the instigator.”

“Don’t blame me!” you laugh. “I didn’t ask him to develop a crush on me. I only just met the guy today.”

“He doesn’t seem to know who you are.”

“He knows what I do here.”

“But does he know you’re married?” Robby juts his hips forward through the last word for emphasis. You can feel your thigh muscles tense with arousal.

“No idea,” you quip with a shrug. “Our conversation hasn’t gone that far.”

“Seems like someone ought to mention it to him.”

“By all means, be my guest.”

“I will.” Robby continues to eye you and he can’t help but chuckle at your determined expression. “You love this, don’t you?”

“I do,” you admit cheekily. You snake your arms around his torso, your chin resting against his chest as you smile innocently upward at him. Robby presses a kiss to your forehead and returns the smile.

“You’re evil,” he rasps. 

“I’ll make it up to you later,” you coo.

“Later? No, babe. You’ll do it now.”

Your eyes widen as his words catch you off guard. It’s not like Robby to do something so forbidden inside the sanctity of his precious ER. But ever since you got married, he’s relaxed; he’s not so uptight, not as agitated and not nearly as miserable to be around. He’s returned to his former self, much to the relief of everyone who works with him. 

“Right now?” you repeat to ensure you heard him correctly.

“That’s what I said.” Robby leans in to press his lips to their favorite spot against your neck. Your eyes immediately fall shut as you inhale sharply, still surprised by Robby’s behavior. Sure, you’ve flirted and exchanged a suggestive touch every now and again, but you’ve never crossed the boundary of engaging in explicit activities at work. You’ve thought about it plenty of times, but you always assumed Robby was all business and no pleasure when it came to work, and you didn’t bother to challenge that.

Today, however, is clearly different. Because today, he can’t stand the sight of that pompous and obnoxious resident ogling you like the final piece of candy in the dish. Besides, Michael Robinavitch has never been one to back down from a challenge.

He kisses you slowly, to remind you that this is all rooted in love and adoration, despite his annoyance with Gavin’s behavior – and despite his desperation to remind you of your marital vows. Not that you need the reminder – you’d torch the world to ash and embers before you dared to risk your marriage.

“Awfully on edge today, are we?” you tease. 

“Awfully mouthy today, are we?” Robby retorts. You grin at him.

“You already know what this mouth can do.”

“Jesus Christ.”

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach. But you can also feel your time alone running out. Your absence from the ER won’t be noticed – though you really should return to the birthing ward – but Robby’s will. You were one code blue from interruption.

Your hands find the belt of Robby’s cargo pants and you work quickly to free his cock from them. He lets out a low grunt as your hands wrap around him and stroke, though he’s already fully erect. You begin to sink to your knees, but his hand curls around your wrist to stop you.

“Later. You can do that later,” he rasps.

He steers you by the wrist toward the sink, where he stands behind you, his reflection’s gaze meeting yours in the mirror as he pins you against the cool porcelain. His eyes swarm with desire. He tugs your scrub bottoms to the floor and you can feel his fingers inch their way into the waistband of your panties. Before those also find the floor, Robby presses a trail of kisses down the back of your neck, ending at your shoulder. 

When he hooks an arm around you to press two fingers against your clit, he hisses in your ear as he feels how wet you are. You become spineless against him.

“Walking around my ER like that?” he says in your ear as he sinks his fingers inside you. “You’re bad.”

He supports himself with one hand flat against the wall as he uses the other to guide his cock inside you.

“Fuck, Michael,” you whine, but he stops to smirk at your reflection.

“You love this, don’t you?” he murmurs as he watches your teeth drag against your own bottom lip. You whimper in response, your walls clenching around him in a silent plea for more. He obliges you, filling you with his cock until it reaches the hilt. He groans at the tight heat that contrasts the cool bathroom.

He begins to thrust until you’re bent over the sink, fighting to stifle your broken moans. He keeps you upright with one arm, and as you sneak a glance at your own reflection, you realize you look absolutely pitiful – eyes glassy, cheeks flushed and lips parted as the man behind you turns you into a ruined, fucked out mess.

Your white knuckles match the porcelain as you grip the sides of the sink, the pressure inside your core mounting. 

“God, M-Michael,” you manage through a pathetic stutter. He drives his cock upward into your sweet spot until you’re gasping over how good it feels. You’re on the brink of a climax and Robby is watching it all unfold in the mirror. He stares back at you with such intensity, you have to look away.

Your back arches and you push your hips backward as Robby continues to drive into you, murmuring absolute filth in your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the mounting release within your walls. When Robby’s stare searches for yours in the mirror, he sinks his fingers into your open mouth, eliciting an unsuspecting gasp.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “I want you to watch me fuck you.”

It’s not an ask, and you nod silently in submission, his fingers still in your mouth. Robby groans at the vision before him in the mirror, which looks more like framed art to him; your bottom lip now raw and red from your teeth, your pleading eyes and shaking arms struggling to support you. It’s a portrait Robby’s committing to memory, a masterpiece he'll name Sin Incarnate.

Your legs are ready to give out but Robby’s now got both hands clutching your hips as he fucks you closer to your grand finale. Your whimpers chorus higher, threatening to breach the privacy of the bathroom door to passerby, but you’re too cock-drunk to care.

Robby rolls his hips until his thrusts become erratic, a sign you’ve come to recognize of his approaching climax. His eyes study yours in the mirror until he sees the familiar expression indicating your own orgasm.

“Come on,” he coaches you. “Come for me.”

You hum in response, tightening your cunt around his cock as it pounds against your front wall. 

“Oh, fuck,” you manage as it triggers your release. It starts with a sharp cry and ends with you slumped over the sink, desperate to prolong the final quivers within your walls. Robby thrusts so hard, your feet nearly lift off the floor, your final pulses coaxing his own completion.

He swears loudly as he comes, his hips pinning you against the sink while you watch his head tilt backward in the mirror. He spills inside you, your weak legs struggling to keep you standing while your thighs become slick.

When he’s done, Robby’s frame is no longer tense. He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping you in an embrace as his primal mood shifts to something much more docile. 

“You okay?” he asks. You nod, still recovering from your post-orgasm haze. Your eyelids are heavy as you peer back at him in the mirror and he smiles fondly at you.

“We should get back to work,” you note. “It’s probably chaos out there without you.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Robby replied before he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Except Meyer.”

“Cut him some slack,” you laugh as you both begin to redress. “He’s harmless.”

“He’s a punk.”

“He didn’t know we’re married.”

“Did you forget to mention your last name when you introduced yourself?”

“I may have… left it out,” you say as you flash Robby a sheepish smile. He checks himself in the mirror and shoots you a look as he moves to the door. 

“I'll make sure he knows exactly who you are.” He steps into the corridor and disappears as the door snaps shut. You make sure you’re presentable again before you emerge about two minutes later.

You mosey toward the central desk to check if there are any more OB cases before you head upstairs. Robby is standing there with Dana and Gavin.

“Hey you,” she says cheerily. “Heard you’ve got a fun weekend planned.”

You open your mouth to reply when someone calls, “Dr. Robinavitch!”

“Yeah?” you and Robby respond in unison as you both turn toward the source of the sound. It’s Trinity, who’s smiling smugly as she emerges from Room 1.

“Wait,” Gavin says, his eyes shifting back and forth between you and Robby until he studies you with a furrowed brow. “Your last name is Robinavitch, too?”

“Mmhmm,” you answer as Dana backs away slowly to avoid a laughing outburst.

“As in… Mrs. Robinavitch?”

“That’s me.”

Gavin’s mouth falls open as he looks between you and Robby in horror. Robby clears his throat and checks his watch.

“Well would you look at that,” Robby says. “It’s 4 o’clock and I’m off early today. I’m taking my wife to the Finger Lakes to celebrate our wedding anniversary.”

He drapes an arm over your shoulders and steers you from the desk, leaving Trinity and Dana in stitches and Gavin in crisis.

[atlabeth]

(please) spare me indignity

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.

a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero

wc: 5k

warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet

You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies. 

You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it. 

You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box. 

There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy. 

He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break. 

“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”

“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”

He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.” 

“What are you, a broken record?”

“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?” 

“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.” 

“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well. 

“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.” 

“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?” 

It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. 

“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.” 

You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open. 

It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good. 

You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home. 

You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere. 

This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.

Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”

“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”

“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”

Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.

“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”

Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”

You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”

“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”

“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.” 

“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away. 

You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would. 

It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again. 

“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out. 

You frown. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!” 

“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”

“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”

“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.” 

He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it. 

“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.” 

“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before. 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”

“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says. 

Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.

“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”

Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—

“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.

“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”

Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it. 

“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”

“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”

“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”

You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest. 

“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.” 

You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back. 

You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.

Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?

You, apparently.  

You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason. 

If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him. 

Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself. 

You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care. 

You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away. 

“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls. 

You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” 

“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly. 

A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person. 

“Can I help at all?”

This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”

Again, more silence.

“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”

You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”

“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”

The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”

“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”

“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”

You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.” 

-

You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off. 

It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are. 

Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?

You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room. 

“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn. 

“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—” 

You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look. 

“I’m so good at so many other things.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?” 

“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”

“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask. 

He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.” 

You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”

“Then open a window.”

“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says. 

“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation. 

Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”

You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize. 

“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.” 

“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.” 

“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you. 

“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one. 

“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.” 

You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it. 

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks. 

“Fine,” you say. 

He frowns. “Really?” 

“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.” 

“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—” 

“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt. 

“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says. 

You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”

“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”

“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?” 

“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—” 

“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.” 

“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.” 

“Am I not allowed to joke?” 

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.” 

“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.” 

He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?” 

“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.” 

“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—” 

“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?” 

“A couple spoonfuls but—” 

“Spoonfuls?”

“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends. 

“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”

“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.” 

He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.” 

Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?” 

“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.” 

“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you. 

“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says. 

“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?” 

Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.” 

You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine. 

“Do they have any leads?” 

“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?” 

“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.” 

“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than  usual, but you drink it anyway. 

“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.” 

“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.” 

“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.” 

“Then don’t say everything so seriously.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out. 

“Want one?” 

“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.” 

“You should.” 

“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock. 

“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.” 

You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?” 

Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.” 

You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.” 

“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response. 

It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now. 

Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that. 

You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you. 

-

Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much. 

It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever. 

But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him. 

This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.

Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true. 

Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace. 

But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion. 

He always notices your eyes.

Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?” 

“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”

“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.” 

Spencer sits up. “What is it?” 

“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.” 

“Who is it?” he asks. 

“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—” 

“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.” 

“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?” 

“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”

Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”

“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.” 

“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.” 

“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”

“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.” 

“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.” 

“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”

“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”

Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.” 

“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.” 

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. 

“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—” 

“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—” 

“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?” 

“...Some,” Spencer says. 

“Like?” 

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him. 

“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.” 

“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.” 

Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.” 

“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.  

“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says. 

“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.” 

“Spencer—” 

“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?” 

“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”

Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him. 

His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom. 

Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you. 

He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach. 

“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear. 

“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters. 

He hangs up without another word. 

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 1

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, awkward & nervous reader, hints at a mini panic attack

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 2.1k+

✿ A / N ✿ i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt the urge to go back to writing now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any mildly suggestive stuff in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be kinda insane) <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // M O N D A Y

Fuck my life.

That was the first thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week project in art class. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment itself wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him.

You didn’t even know why he'd chosen Art in the first place. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA.

Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/n, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, probably waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Aight, then let’s meet after fifth period." Before you could ask for a place, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach. You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant, he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statter was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that’s what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to understand who he was and get to know him.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him, but he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

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The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands, trying to get rid of this horrible feeling in your gut. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe?

Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out, only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious spot to meet up, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong—freshly showered boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining WHY you were standing here if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t.

Great.

When Rafe spotted you, something flickered in his gaze that you were too afraid to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you. With Kelce and Topper right behind him…

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Yo," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "Didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

With heated cheeks, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Riight," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

…

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment :)))

G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though, I guess. The faster we get this shitty project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you? HAHAHAH WHAT AM I EVEN DOING HERE?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/n Y/l/n, right? Your mom owns Y/l/n Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded with a polite smile. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just giggled.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl. GIRL WHAT.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t look like an awkward mess. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a beauty."

HELP.

Your cheeks heated up like crazy and with that nervous smile on your face you probably looked like a weird cartoon character. SOMEONE SHOOT ME.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dooozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Shit, good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You chuckled awkwardly. I’m so bad at whatever this is, fucking shit.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a crooked smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate?

It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The dining hall has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny?

Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks straight up burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„Nah, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave, how about that? You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate or whatever. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, boyish, which somehow made it worse because it only made you all the more nervous.

„Nah, shit, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „Guess I gotta work out more if I’m giving off ‘McDonald’s stan’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Jesus Christ, relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Now, come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why the fuck did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming in the best and worst way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | N E X T ->

[spiriiitt]

MYSTREET S1 NICOLE!!!1 AAAAAAAAAA SHE'S A STUNNER

CLOSEUP ON HER FACE!! SHE'S SO <3333 I kinda outdid myself with this ngl. I know she loves her gold jewellery fr. Nicole Von Ronsenburg the woman you are...

shoe closeup bc Dancole anklet lul ignore how messy it is i was TIRED and hate drawing shoe laces.

The necklace is a white gem with two purple ones on either side, I have a strong personal headcannon that she's religious and this is kind of like how we hold crosses? I didn't want to just draw the symbol of Lady Irene so I felt the gems were prettier. Also the white is partially for Roxy in Minecraft Diaries bc we know I love my odes to their historical selves. Anyways!! She's gorg.

I've had a slight style change since my last one, I changed how I render hair mostly, but it's not that different. I was thinking of my Desi friend while starting this, so I think lowk I imprinted some of her appearance onto Nicole while drawing this i.e the dimples, jewellery and nose so lol.

I started this yesterday afternoon and have already finished it lol I had so much fun doing a full piece again after not for the like last month, and also so happy to finally get started on the Mystreet drawing series again after taking a small break for school and stuff. The last one of these was at the beginning of October, I hadn't even started my HSC Exams at that point!!

Anyways, hope you love her.

[vi-tamine]

hey!! would you write vi with childhood crush!reader and they've spent years liking each other but were too oblivious/insecure to confess, then vi gets with caitlyn in s1 leaving reader heartbroken but then they break up so vi and reader finally get together? like a angst to fluff... only if you dont mind obviously!!

after the storm (vi x reader)

words: 2,7k (oh... my god...)

genre(s): fluff and angst

warnings: kind of drunk vi, vi x childhood crush!reader

n/a: maybe I've gone a little overboard with this request but omg I had such a good time writing about my girl…. little reminder that english isnt my first language, im sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes <3 hope u enjoy!

When you were younger, you frequented the famous The Last Drop in the undercity, where you became friends with a small group of somewhat brothers. You frequented that bar because, apart from the fact that they had a delicious tomato juice that you had never tasted anywhere else, there was a certain pinkhead girl who had accepted you into the group and integrated you into it as if you had always been part of it. 

You both had very different personalities, while she was hard, determined and direct, you were more quiet and reserved in certain aspects. And yet, you complemented each other perfectly.  You admired her a lot, or so you thought. 

Little by little, you both grew to trust each other. You frequented her space, she invited you on adventures with her group and she told you things she couldn't tell her younger sister or her brothers. 

You wanted to mentally beat yourself up when you realized that you no longer saw Vi as a friend, but that you were beginning to feel a certain attraction to her. They were confusing feelings for you at the age you were. You never said anything because you finally had a friend you felt you could count on and you didn't want to spoil your friendship with those silly feelings you were sure you could ignore.

One day, the subway city seemed to go to hell and was covered in mourning. Vander passed away and you never heard from the boys, Powder or Vi again. 

.

You attended to one last customer as you escorted him to the door, said goodbye in a light whisper and closed the door as you turned the Closed sign. After your mother's passing, leaving you completely alone in the undercity, you took over your business, a humble junkyard frequented, as far as you knew, by some of Silco's henchmen. 

Leaning on the counter, you noticed that one of the shelves was missing a few knick-knacks, and frowning you realized that the wretch had stolen them. You cursed to yourself as you lightly tapped the counter. Since that day had been hard days for you, you were facing the world all alone. You knew that Powder, or Jinx, as she now called herself, was “fine”, but you still knew nothing about the others, not even Ekko, with whom you had exchanged a few words.

You heard knocking at the door. “Closed, it says so on the sign” you shouted from inside the shop as you finished packing up. Still, the knocking did not stop. 

Snorting, you headed for the door, opening it in complete anger. “It's closed! Don't you know how-” you shut up when you saw the person in front of you. That totally unmistakable pink hair, the freckles on her nose and her powder blue eyes staring straight at you. “Vi?” you muttered in a whisper. You felt her arms wrap around you tightly, and you still confused, it took you a little while to return her embrace. 

You felt the warmth of her body against yours hit you full on, and you definitely felt like you were going to burst into tears. She was so beautiful, grown up, more grown up, stronger, more everything. 

“Where were you all this time?” you mumbled asking into the crook of her neck, still not letting go of her arms. “Stillwater” she replied in a whisper, still wrapping her arms around you. You stood for a while longer holding each other, you had needed this for a long time, and to be honest, you had to hold back the urge you had to cry. 

“You're... so changed” she murmured once she broke away, looking you up and down, ending up in your eyes. You let out a giggle. 

“Not you, you look the same. You have the same punk face you had seven years ago” you joked with her while you gave a light tap on her arm, noticing how stiff it was. Seeing her made you feel strange, you felt the same as when you were little, you still had that feeling towards her, but it was possible that having seen her again after so many years, had increased those feelings.  “How did you get out of jail? And why did they arrest you in the first place?” in Zaun the word was spreading fast, but from that day on you shut yourself away from taking care of your mother and the store, you didn't know anything about what had happened. Vi gave you a brief summary, told you everything that happened that day and how it all went. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, a piece inside you shattered as you learned of your friends' passing. 

“And about how I got out...let's just say  the council got me out” you arched an eyebrow at her response. What would the council want her for? 

The door burst open. A girl, who looked about your age, blue hair and slanted sky coloured eyes, appeared in this one. You frowned, for she did not look like someone proper from Zaun, despite her robes. 

“Vi? You got it?” the girl spoke to the girl. Confused, you looked at her.

“Have what?” you asked, looking at your once friend. She looked at you, you watched as she swallowed, and when she was about to speak, the taller one cut her off.

“Information. About Jinx” your gaze shifted to the stranger. Her gaze towards you, while trying to be neutral, you could sense a bit of distaste in it. You didn't understand anything, but what you did seem to understand was that they knew each other. 

“Give me a few minutes, cupcake” you felt something inside you snap a little more. the taller one snorted and walked out of the store again, slamming the door behind her. What's wrong with her? you asked yourself, still staring at the door.

“Who is she?” you asked in a whisper. 

“Caitlyn Kiramman, the officer who pulled me out of Stillwater” Vi replied as she shrugged her shoulders. You mumbled lightly. You had a lot of questions. 

“Cupcake?” you asked in a mocking tone, though to be honest, you hadn't been the least bit amused.  A few years ago it had been you she called in that nickname, “because you were so sweet, like a cupcake” she had once told you. “Are you with a piltoverian?” you asked, this time, raising your voice a little higher than you would have liked.

“What?” Vi shrugged. “What's your problem? It's not like you released me from prison, honey” she teased wryly as she looked directly at you. At this point, you got the feeling that Vi had forgotten her entire past, or at least a past where you belonged in her life. Years ago you thought she might reciprocate your feelings, perhaps. Now it was clear that had never been the case for her. 

“Go away. I don't have any information from Jinx. Ask somewhere else” you spoke softly. You really were out of strength to fight. You didn't want to, at least not with her. Taking her by the shoulder you accompanied her to the door, and opening it, without saying goodbye, you slammed the door once she set foot on the street. You closed the door with every possible lock. 

“Anything?” ”Nothing. Never mind, we'll ask at the brothel” after those murmurs on the other side of the wall, you couldn't help but feel your tears start to fall one after the other more and more abundantly. You felt a pressure in your chest, you felt full of guilt. You were alone again, with your heart hanging in your hands. 

You thought maybe you had overreacted, that you shouldn't have treated Vi like that after not having seen her for so many years, but your feelings got the better of you.

And once again, you decided to disengage from the issue and whatever happened from that point on. 

.

One more day in your routine, you closed the store once the last customer of the day had already walked through the door to go out into the street. As usual, you swore on the sign indicating that the store was closed to the public, and began to sweep and tidy up the shop to have it ready for the next day first thing in the morning. 

The last six months had been an odyssey for you. You did not stop hearing everywhere you went about the return of Vi, about everything that was happening in the city above and especially what was happening with Jinx. You stayed on the sidelines, even though wherever you went you were gathering information.

You had been thinking a lot during this time, thinking about the pinkhead and how everything could have been different if only the Piltover girl had not been there. You didn't blame Vi, you knew she had every right to hang out with whomever she wanted, but you couldn't help but feel angry and jealous at the slightest thought that she would never be with you. 

You heard a knock at the door. You sighed, you were not in the mood for this kind of nonsense. You ignored the knocking, the sign was clear, they would notice. Even though you kept sweeping and cleaning, the knocking didn't stop and your patience was limited. Just as you were about to say something to the person who kept insisting, the sound of the door opening startled you. You turned to complain, but you saw her.

She was significantly changed. Her pink hair was badly dyed a very dark black color, and her eyes were made up in a totally disastrous way. She was dressed in black and several bandages covered various parts of her body. You frowned at the sight of her looking like that.

“Did you fall in a puddle of oil?” you asked as you went back to your work. You heard her snort. Glancing sideways at her you noticed she was wobbling a bit, and taking a couple of steps forward, she looked like she was almost going to fall, leaning against the counter. You put the broom aside and approached her, the smell of alcohol becoming more and more present. “Have you been drinking?” you asked. She simply nodded. You snorted a little and bit your tongue. 

You slipped one of her arms over your shoulder, and holding her by the waist, guided her to the back of the store to go upstairs to your apartment. She stumbled over her own feet as she walked, making your steps clumsy as you climbed the stairs. She mumbled things you couldn't understand, but she seemed hurt, for some reason. 

Once you got up to the apartment, you directed her to the living room to sit her carefully on the couch. She looked at everything with curiosity, and in silence, you went to the kitchen to bring her a glass of water. You held the glass out to her and she, with a murmur of thanks, took a sip.

“It hasn't changed a bit...” she murmured still observing the humble decor of your living room. “And your mother? How is she?” he asked awkwardly. You didn't answer, didn't even look at her, just shrugged. Vi got the message right away. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't- fuck, sorry” she mumbled setting aside the glass. 

“Why did you drink so much?” you asked leaning against the back of the couch. Vi did the same, settled back and let out a sigh. She even seemed to find it hard to speak. “Drink water” you took the glass again and held it out to her. She heeded and took another sip. 

“Things aren't going well...” she muttered. You knew what she was talking about, nothing was right when a war between two cities was about to explode. 

“Something I heard” you simply mentioned. Vi looked at you. The only thing she thought when she looked at you was that the dim light coming through the window really fell in a very angelic way on your body. She always thought you were a jewel in the rough,  someone who didn't have to belong to this city, someone who deserved better from everything life had given her. “Your girlfriend? All good with her?” when she heard those words come out of your mouth she frowned and growled. 

“No,” she replied. She didn't add anything else. You didn't want to ask either, you supposed that also added to things not going well. 

“I'm sorry” you mumbled. You weren't sorry. If you had to be honest, you were kind of glad it hadn't worked out with that girl. The atmosphere was starting to feel tense as you weren't talking anymore. You listened to Vi take sip after sip of water. She started to sit up a bit, you took it for granted that she was starting to sober up and become more aware of the situation. 

 Still silent, you felt her head rest on your shoulder. “You don't know how much i've missed you all these years” she murmured. You felt her hair brush against your cheek, and you couldn't help but fall into nostalgia, letting your cheek rest against her head. “I've missed you so much too, Vi...” you felt her hand brush against yours before taking her fingers in yours. Her hand was warm, unlike yours, which always had cold fingers. You enjoyed the warmth her body emanated, closing your eyes slightly, enjoying the company you both gave each other.

For her part, Vi during her stay in Stillwater, always dreamed of a scenario similar to this, without the alcohol and tragedies in between. Just you and her sharing such a sweet moment as you were doing at that moment. Ever since she was little she had always felt a certain attraction to you, you were always so sweet and positive that she felt you two complemented each other perfectly. You could say that her heart melted a little more when, that same night, instead of kicking her out of your tent, you offered her your help and shelter. 

“Thank you, for everything” she murmured still leaning against you, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb. You felt, hearing her voice so calm, your heart skip a beat. 

“You don't have to give them away. I wasn't going to let you down, you're my Vi” you murmured back. The girl couldn't help but smile. Your Vi. She was yours. 

“And you're my cupcake” you rolled your eyes, letting out a chuckle. 

“That's not so clear to me, cutie” you joked, referencing that it was the same nickname she had used with her ex.

“You’re mine too” Vi sat up on the couch, both of them very close to each other. Her eyes connected with yours and you both became lost in each other's gaze. Placing her hand on your chin, she brought her lips to yours, leaving a small kiss on them. You felt a slight shiver run down your spine. You had just experienced what you always wanted, and in such a sweet way, that you could only think you were dreaming. But when Vi started kissing you one after another, feeling her lips on yours, you knew it was real. You reciprocated each of the kisses Vi gave you sweetly, and as you parted, you both looked at each other and laughed lightly.

“You don't know how long I wanted to do this,” Vi said leaning her head back against the back of the couch, looking directly at you as she kept smiling, her cheeks rosy. 

“You don't know how long I've waited for you to do this” you leaned against her, leaving a kiss on her cheek. “I've always liked you, you know? These years have been torture...to think you could have been-” Vi stopped you when you felt her hand on your cheek, caressing it in the sweetest way possible.

“Time has passed, and I'm already here. And I'm not going to move from your side.” you smiled at the girl's words. You took it as a correspondence. 

After the storm you were finally starting to see the sun. 

[weathertheraine]

Pirate AU!! Thank you @stringofturtles for watching OFMD S1 with me and re-igniting my Pirate Emotions so I had the motivation to finish this. The first sketches have been sitting in my files for months so please forgive the fact that they look different skdfjh.

More fleshed out AU details under the cut !! :D

- The kids are a little older than canon - the third years in their early 20s - but the story still starts with the second and third years as an established crew who then pick up the first years and the coaches.

- Daichi as a Captain is of course very much like he is in canon. He works very hard to take care of his crew and takes on a huge responsibility for providing for them (as well as making sure they don’t die in idiotic ways). Suga is First Mate so it’s his job to make sure DAICHI is okay and not worrying himself to death. He also has a good handle on morale/the emotional state of the crew.

- Asahi is the first line of offence when dealing with other ships. He doesn’t like actually hurting people, but he’s good at breaking ranks and barrelling through defences to get hold of whatever Karasuno needs. He was ‘off the team’ and out of commission for a little while after he lost his hand (not seeing combat while he was in recovery, and needing to build up his courage again). Noya played a huge part in helping him back onto his feet, and has been kind of protective ever since.

- Noya’s job is to make sure the ship isn’t boarded, so he very rarely leaves it.

- Ennoshita and Kiyoko work together as navigators and managing the little money the crew has. Ennoshita is the only crew member in the beginning who can kind-of read (Kiyoko can only read a little), and they work a lot with maps and planning out journeys.

- Tanaka is great at intimidating opponents. His eyepatch is totally for show - he thinks it makes him look cooler and scarier. His parrot doesn’t often co-operate with him.

- Narita and Kinoshita take care of maintenance and supplies and making sure there isn’t gunpowder anywhere there shouldn’t be, as well as things like fraying rigging and rotting boards/canons secure and the like. Of course, things like that are everyone’s responsibility, but these two consider is theirs particularly. It’s thankless work but the boat would definitely have burned down by now if not for them.

- Enter the first years!

- Kageyama is a prodigy swordsman with a huge reputation as a lethal pirate, although most people who spread those rumours don’t realise he’s as young as he is. He was marooned by his previous crew for being a controlling Captain (who should never have been captain in the first place, having only his fighting talent as the real reason).

- Hinata recently ran away from home to “become a pirate” without much of an idea what that actually entailed, and ran into Kageyama without knowing his reputation. All he knew was that this guy was incredible fighter, and he demanded that he teach him to fight! He now won’t leave him alone.

- Tsukishima ran away as a very young child in an attempt to find Akiteru, whose sailing ship was attacked and lost at sea. He fell in with pirates along with Yamaguchi (who was picked up after surviving a shipwreck), and the pair ended up sticking together as they bounced from ship to ship, ready to run whenever it seemed like tensions were getting high. They (read: tsukki) are going to need to break this habit, if they’re going to be a real part of this new crew.

- Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can’t sleep if they’re not in the same hammock. Embarrassing. The reason Yamaguchi was so tiny as a little kid is that he didn’t get enough food. Tsukishima still tries to sneak him extra (and gets in trouble with Daichi).

- Tadashi ends up as a sharpshooter, one of the few kids who’s confident using a pistol

- Hinata and Kageyama spar together all the time. It’s GOING to end in a make-out the first time Hinata successfully beats him.

- Neither of them have noticed that Tanaka’s eyepatch switches sides.

- Yachi is picked up when the crew stop in a bar in her town. She’s a better-off girl, about to be talked into an politically advantageous marriage, and desperately wants to get out of her situation. “Running away with pirates” was admittedly pretty drastic, but anything sounds like a good idea when Hinata suggests it so sincerely!!

- Ukai is a washed up older pirate, without a crew. Takeda is a very unlucky literature teacher who just happened to be on a sea voyage. They both ended up taken as hostages by the same (meaner) pirate crew, who were then stolen by the Karasuno kids. Although, it’s kind of unclear at this point whether they’re actually prisoners… They’re being treated very nicely (especially Sensei) and are in danger of getting attached…

[spnjediavenger]

I Need My Brother (Chapter 1)

Title: I Need My Brother (Chapter 1)

Type: multi-chapter; matt murdock x sister!reader, some foggy and karen x teen!reader (platonic!)

Warnings: Matt unintentionally being a jerk brother, sibling argument, some angst, hurt no comfort (yet)

Spoilers: S1 SPOILERS

Notes: hey look, another fic that was meant to be a one-shot that turned into 4+ chapters. Oops

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Word count: 1506

Y/n Murdock had a decent life. She would admit that. She was in a good school, she had good friends, and she had family through Nelson & Murdock. Her brother, Matt, always did his best to look after her. She never knew her father but she had Matt next to her as they both grew up at the orphanage. And as soon as he was legally able, Matt took custody of her, knowing she wouldn’t be happy without him. Granted, going through college with an 8 year old wasn’t entirely smart. Or easy. But he did it. 

So Y/n was thankful for these things.

That began to slowly change, however, when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was born. Y/n and Matt knew each other better than they knew themselves so it didn’t take Y/n long to figure out his ‘secret.’ Needless to say she wasn’t happy about it. But she learned to live with it. There were still times, though, where it got hard. Y/n felt like her brother was spending more and more time away from her and she was beginning to miss how things used to be. 

After doing some tracking down, Y/n found Claire and the two formed a bond over the stresses of knowing her brother and his secret life. She lately found herself at the hospital during Claire’s breaks or her apartment after shifts unwinding with her and venting about Matthew’s absence. Like today. 

“I mean, I get that what he does is important, and I’m proud of him - I really am. But…”

“But you miss him,” Claire finished, tone understanding. She pursed her lips as the girl nodded sadly, looking down at her mug of hot chocolate. “It’s ok to think that way, Y/n. Your feelings are valid. Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

Y/n shook her head. “He has enough going on. He has his p-“ she stopped herself. While Claire knew about the vigilante side of her brother, she didn't know his true identity. And as Matt told her several times - the less she knew about him the better. “He has his day job that’s gotten busier, he has his vigilante thing that’s also gotten busier. I don’t want to waste his time.”

Claire frowned and furrowed her brow. “But he’s your brother. And your legal guardian. If he makes time for anything, Y/n, it should be you.”

Y/n sighed. “I know,” she said meekly. “And I do have this mindset that I should be his priority…”

“But?”

“But I still can’t get myself to bother him.”

Sensing it was a lost cause, Claire just pursed her lips and rubbed Y/n’s shoulder. All she could do was encourage her to talk to Matt (or, ‘Mike’ in Claire’s case) and be there for her if and when she needed to talk. 

A couple weeks later, Y/n was at her breaking point. She had barely seen her brother for days it seemed. She couldn’t get herself to approach him and be upfront about the issue; but she had an idea to get his attention. Leave it to a teenager to make things more difficult than they needed to be. 

Y/n smirked to herself as she walked up to Nelson & Murdock, tossing a bouncy ball off the ground. She had been trying to get Matt’s attention the whole week with no luck. But she was sure this would get him.

“Uh oh, I know that look,” Foggy’s voice came as Y/n walked through the doorway. “You better not be spiking my food again, gremlin.”

“Ok, first of all, don’t say ‘spiking!’ I didn’t drug you!” Y/n defended herself. 

“You may as well have,” Foggy muttered. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “It was just hot sauce, you wimp. And, no - I’m not here to mess with you.”

“But you’re here to mess with someone else,” he accused, pointing a finger at her. 

“Shut up!” She whisper-yelled. 

“Matt’s not here, relax…is that who you’re messing with?!” 

“Foggy!”

“Ok ok whatever. I’m leaving soon anyway.”

“Don’t give me away. Matt knows things, ok?”

Foggy rolled his eyes and messed up her hair as he walked past her, making her swat his hand away. 

Y/n kept bouncing her rubber ball as she entered her brother’s office. She brought her backpack over her shoulder to pull out a whoopie cushion. She moved the seat cover on Matt’s chair and placed the partly filled cushion underneath before replacing the cloth. She walked back out to the ‘lobby’ of the firm and sat on Karen’s desk, smirk on her face. The unpaid secretary looked at her with a knowing look. 

“I have a feeling we’ll know when it happens?”

Y/n nodded proudly. 

About 30 minutes later, Y/n could hear Matt’s walking stick tapping in the hallway. She stayed on Karen’s desk, still bouncing the rubber ball off the ground as her brother came in. 

“Welcome back,” Karen greeted nonchalantly. 

“Thank you,” he nodded plainly. “Y/n,” he addressed his sister. “How come you’re not at the apartment?”

“It’s my usual day to see Foggy and Karen,” she commented, a little deflated. That part she kept true - she did visit the firm every friday. Was Matt really that out of the loop that he forgot her routine?

“Ok. Well, I have a couple things to finish up at my desk then we’ll walk back together, ok?”

“Alright,” she shrugged dejectedly. 

Rubber. Constant bouncing off the ground. Normal heart rate. Matt quirked a brow but made his way to his office.

As part of her plan, it distracted him enough to ignore his seat; the smell of the rubber also made it so the rubber from the whoopie cushion was also overlooked by the vigilante. 

Y/n’s face split into a grin as she saw her brother’s shadow bend down towards the chair. Her hand flew to her mouth so she didn’t laugh prematurely as her brother sat and a loud fart sound rang through the office. Foggy and Karen both let out sudden laughs and Y/n let her own laugh loose, a rare snort coming out as well. 

Matt sat in shock for a moment before staring towards his door, jaw dropped. Ears burning, he called out, “Y/n…” warning in his tone. 

Foggy and Karen looked at said girl, amused looks on their faces. She mirrored their looks and hopped off Karen’s desk and popped her head into Matt’s doorway. 

“Yes, dear brother?” she said innocently. 

“Shut the door,” he said, a little too seriously for Y/n’s liking. 

She gave a nervous glance at the other two, who shared her expression, before steeling her face and stepped into Matt’s office, closing the door behind her. 

“Feeling gassy today, Matty?” she joked. 

“Y/n, it’s not funny,” he said, looking her way. 

“Oh, come on, Matt-“

“Y/n, just stop. You’ve been pulling these immature pranks all week and it has to stop. And to bring it to the office? What if a client had walked in?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause you get a lot of those, do you?”

“That’s not the point! You know how hard Fog and I have been working to try and get this place off the ground! I can’t have a teenager running amok and pulling this stuff because the last thing I need is for someone to walk in and for their first impression to be that we don’t take things seriously! Is it too much to ask for you to act your age for once?!”

Y/n’s jaw dropped about halfway through Matt’s rant, tears collecting on her waterlines. Matt never snapped at her before. She was just trying to get him to lighten up. Not turn him against her. 

She set her jaw and hardened her gaze. She went from shock, to sadness, to anger. “You know what, Matt? No. It’s not too much to ask. Because I forgot that this whole world revolves around you, how foolish of me to forget! God forbid you have to think about anyone but yourself for once! It’s not like you have an underage sister who still depends on you metaphorically and legally or anything.”

Salt in the air. Almost non-existent sniffles. Watery voice. She was crying.

“...Y/n-”

“Forget it, Matt,” she said, voice cracking. “I’ll see you later. Don’t let your big ego get caught in the doorway when you leave.” At that, Y/n spun on her heel and stormed out, tears streaking down her face.

“Y/n. Y/n!” Matt tried calling in vain. “It’s dark! You don’t walk back alone!”

“I got her,” Foggy said. He turned to leave but twisted to look at Matt one more time. “And you know something? Everyone’s entitled to act stupid every once and awhile, but I think you just abused that privilege.”

As Foggy ran out to catch up to Y/n, Matt hung his head in shame. 

(Chapter 2) ->

[hencheri]

if you ever get the chance, watch squid game s2 (or s1 if you haven’t, top tier) but, your racer heeseung got me thinking.

racer!jeno (or anybody, i don’t care as long as it’s fitting) who comes to your car repairs shop late at night to get some paint fixed on his car. when it comes time to pay he makes sure to give you a big tip. you tell him that there’s no need but he wasn’t talking about cash. despite the protests, he bends you over the front of his car while he holds your wrists in his hand while he thrusts into you, the side of your cheek practically stuck to the car from the paint drying :/ he asks you what a women’s doing fixing cars and shit anyways. when he’s finally finished and he pulls you off the car, you swear your skin ripped off from how much paint had combined you and the car together. he looks over your shoulder and the side of your face was completely embedded in your car. he tells you he thinks he’ll keep it there, and you know what? maybe he wants your ass to be printed on the top of his car too? maybe he wants your tits to be embedded on his passenger door too. it doesn’t matter, the next race he’s in, everybody’s gonna be wondering who’s face that is on the front of his car.

it’s got to be written because my mind is going absolutely wild

▸ 18+ mdni. | warnings. noncon, misogyny.

racer!jeno is perfect, especially since i've been craving him really badly lately... honestly, it's something i would have never thought of, that's so out of pocket (in a good way). i know he's mad af when he comes to the garage and he sees you, like, really? a girl, repairing his car?

you ignore his comments at first because you honestly hear it all so often... "isn't there anybody else working?", "you? the mechanic?", "you're sure you won't break my car even more?", stuff like that... when he comes to check on the job you've done, it pisses him off that everything seems completely fine bcs he can't complain. but he pays you the right amount, but when your back is turned, he takes a hold of your neck, pulling you to his chest. he wants a little extra, a bonus. after all, that's what you're here for, right? to serve him, use you how he sees fit.

he bends you over the hood of his car, your hands flat on it, trying to keep your balance as he fucks you brutally. he's merciless and rough; he has a point to make. you're made to take cock, be a little cum dump, nothing else. and he fully believes it by the end of it, taking a fistful of your hair and bringing you flush to his chest once again. his eyes burn into your face and honestly, he's never been so painfully hard.

but also... i see the opposite, you coming to have your car repaired; brakes too rusty, oil change... idk, something like that, something real simple. with the model of the car, he fully thinks the owner is a man, but when he sees you, his jaw clenches, biting the inside of his cheek. apparently, you do car races. well, you think you do because he knows someone like you could never handle a race. he wants to scoff in your face, but he holds back.

the garage slowly empties, only you and jeno remaining as you come to pay him. when you hand him the money, he reaches for it, but unexpectedly grab your wrist, bending you over the counter. he shoves the side of your face onto the surface, squishing your cheek against it. he snarls at you, talking about "it's no place for a woman, who do you think you are? driving a car way too powerful for you". you're a dumb little girl if you think he won't demand you an extra.

[reiding-writing]

may i request getting stuck in an elevator with early season Spence after hours at the BAU and the lights go out and obviously him being terrified of the dark he starts panicking and reader has to comfort him until he eventually explains his fear of the dark in relation to something happening in his childhood. just some angst and hurt/comfort ig? I live and breathe your content <3

malfunction [ s.r ]

Summary:

You and Spencer end up staying late to finish some paperwork after a case, when you finally vacate into the elevator to leave it breaks down, revealing some secrets harboured by both of you and strengthening your relationship in the process.

WARNINGS: claustrophobia, nyctophobia, arachnophobia, mentions of spencer’s bullying

pairing: s1!spencer x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

wc: 3.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: glad i’ve curated an audience of angst and hurt/comfort enjoyers <33

It was late.

12:06AM to be exact.

Silence riddled the bullpen, making the usually bustling office stand completely still.

You might’ve found it a little disturbing if not for Spencer sat a few desks down from you, his mere presence stopping your mind from running rampant with irrational fears of ghosts or demons that might lurk in the dark corners of the room.

It was a little stupid sure, your lanky book-genius of a coworker held no chance of being able to physically protect you from whatever your brain could conjure up, but the mind works in wonderous ways, and he offered you an unintentional blanket of security nonetheless.

You could hear the loose papers of his files rustle as he closed the manilla folder, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses with a sigh.

Looks like Spencer was done for the night. And by that logic, so were you.

You mirror Spencer as you shut your file, packing it away in your messenger bag and tucking your chair under your desk as you stand, the two of you silently acknowledging each other’s presence as you reach the elevator.

You could practically feel the fatigue surrounding the both of you as you stepped inside, your tiredness bouncing off each other and making you more desperate to crawl into bed and knock out for the night.

It didn’t last for very long.

A loud clunking sound echoed through the metal walls of the elevator, followed by it jolting to a stop, and you had to grip onto the metal bar lining the wall so you didn’t lose your balance.

Your eyes turn first to the small screen above the door, flickering between the numbers 2 and 3 as if it can’t decide what floor you’re currently on.

Then they turn to Spencer.

Spencer's breathing is uneven and his body tense, eyes darting around the tiny enclosed space with a distinct air of panic.

“Reid? Are you alright?” You raise an eyebrow at him, your expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"N-No, no! I am not alright! This is my worst nightmare come to life." Spencer presses himself against the far wall, as if plastering himself to it will make him part of the elevator and therefore unable to be injured if something goes wrong.

“You do know how unlikely it is to actually get any sort of injury from an elevator accident right?”

"One out of ten point five million. I know that. But this isn't about logic this is about fear." He turns away as he speaks, taking a few breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. "I'm-I'm claustrophobic. And this is not helping."

“Okay- okay- let’s just calm down for a second,” You hold up a hand in Spencer’s direction. You never took him as somebody to have irrational fears like this. You always figured that he’d just use his knowledge to rationalise what was happening and move on. Apparently not.

Spencer looks back at you and nods, taking in another deep breath.

“I'm trying. It's just-“ The elevator makes a rumbling sound that elicits what you can only classify as a whimper to leave his throat. “I can't do this. I can't be stuck in this tiny space for an unknown amount of time. I can't. I just can't. Please. Please, someone. Someone has to know we're in here. They have to.”

“Reid- Calm down.”

You let go of the bar you were holding onto to walk over to Spencer, placing your hands cautiously on his shoulders.

"I-I'm trying. I'm trying."

But he doesn't actually seem to be any better than he was before. His body is shaking, his breaths shaking and uneven.

He's getting very close to having a full blown panic attack.

“Sit down,” You push gently against his shoulders to encourage him to sit, following after him yourself to sit in front of him with your legs crossed underneath you.

Spencer lets out a trembling breath. "What if we die in here? What if no one comes? What if something goes wrong?"

“We’re going to be fine,”

You hold out a hand palm up in your lap as open invitation for him to take it if he needs to.“just take slow breaths Reid,”

"I-I'm trying." He looks down at your hand and almost reaches out for you, but hesitates before yanking his hand back.

He looks away and forces his breath to slow down again. "What if we're in here for hours?"

“Elevators have failsafes Reid, it’ll sort itself out don’t worry,”

Spencer takes a shuddered breath in through his nose, closing his eyes as he repeats your words in his head.

It’ll sort itself out. He doesn’t need to worry.

He meets your eyes with a small nod and you sigh, giving him a sympathetic smile that reassures him he’s going to be fine.

Unfortunately, all of your efforts to calm him down are quickly reversed as the lights cut out, sending the elevator into complete darkness.

His sudden blindness brings a startled cry from Spencer, his body instinctively trying to protect himself and in that split second of shock he grabs your hand.

He clutches at it tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Everything’s fine-“ You return his startled grip with a light squeeze of your own.

The grip around your hand feels firm and shaky but the contact helps to ground him, bringing some of his panic down a notch or two.

“It's not f-fine. It's dark. I don’t like the dark . I hate it.”

“You’re scared of the dark?” You sound more surprised than you mean to, and although you can’t pinpoint all of his features in the shadows, you’re sure you can see his eyebrows knit together.

“11% of the US adult population is afraid of the dark.” His tone carries an air of defensiveness through his fear, although he doesn’t seem offended enough at your comment to sacrifice the physical comfort that your hand is offering in his.

“Oh- no- I didn’t mean it as a bad thing-“ You shake your head despite the fact that he can’t see you, tightening your hold on his hand as an offer of reassurance. “I just- didn’t see you as somebody to have a fear of the dark is all-“

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You can hear the slight waver in his voice as he speaks, clearly trying to distract himself in your questions so he doesn’t have to think about his current situation.

You’d also wager he has his eyes shut, as ironic as it is.

“I just meant- you know- your brain rationalises everything so quickly that I figured you just wouldn’t have fears like this?”

He chuckles nervously, the sound echoing in the darkness. "Well, even the most rational minds have their quirks, I suppose. Fear doesn't always follow logic." The tension in his voice begins to ease, and he opens up a bit more.

“Is there a reason you have a fear of the dark?” You could understand his claustrophobia to a certain level, but nyctophobia wasn’t something very common in adults, especially ones who work as field agents for the FBI.

“I uh- it was just something that happened when I was younger, it’s stupid really-” Spencer skirts your question with a half-truth, not divulging any details of his seemingly irrational fear of the dark.

He shifts slightly, adjusting to find a more comfortable position on the floor, his hand tugging yours and in the process forcing you to change your seating position as well.

You squeeze his hand gently. "Do you wanna talk about it? People usually find it easier to rationalise their fears if they voice them to another person,” You use Spencer’s own intelligence against him in the hope that it’ll get him to open up.

As much as you had learned about him in the past two years, you still knew surprisingly little about Dr. Spencer Reid and his life outside of the office.

You knew all about his academics, how he liked his coffee with as much sugar as humanely possible, how under normal circumstances he would rather lick a toilet seat than shake someone’s hand.

But you didn’t really know him; And you figured this might be a good place to start.

“I… It’s not something I like to dwell on,” He tries to shut down your questioning once more, clearing his throat to try and rid of the lump that forms when he thinks back to the origins of his fears. “It’s not exactly a nice thing to remember,”

“I get that, some of my childhood memories aren’t the best either,” You let out a breath that could almost constitute as a laugh of exasperation. “But it might help, and i’m sure that just getting it off your chest will give you piece of mind nonetheless,”

You can hear Spencer take in a breath through his nose, and through the small adaptation your eyes had made to the darkness you could just barely see his lips purse into a line, debating whether or not to divulge his childhood to you.

It’s not like he didn’t trust you with it. Quite the opposite. He’d come to enjoy your presence over the time you’d spent working together.

You didn’t judge his intelligence, nor did you reduce him to it. You just saw him as another person and it was something that he was incredibly grateful for.

He knew you wouldn’t make fun of him if he told you, but he wasn’t worried about that. He was worried that you’d pity him.

That you’d treat him like some fragile object that would break if you spoke too loudly in its presence.

That’s something that he’d never want.

“I- don’t want you to think of me differently…” His voice was still laced with fear as he spoke, but this time it wasn’t a fear of the dark metal box he was trapped in; It was a fear of how your view of him would change.

“Reid…”

“I don’t want to be pitied or have people walk on eggshells for the sake of hurting my feelings…” You can practically feel his apprehension through the way his hand tenses in yours.

“Reid-“

“I’ve just managed to get people to treat me normally and I don’t want all of that to go down the drain-“

“Spencer.”

You can see his eyes snap upwards towards yours as you raise your voice, and you pull his left hand into your own to hold both of them in your lap, eyes chasing his in the darkness to maintain eye contact. “You’re human. Humans have fears and they have bad memories, and it’s not going to change anything about how I treat you.”

“Tell you what,” You give his hands a squeeze, leaning forwards slightly towards him to try and get a better look at his face. “I’ll tell you one of my childhood tragedies if you tell me yours, deal?”

He goes silent as he ponders your offer, ending with a small nod that you can only half see. “Okay…”

“Okay,” You return his nod with your own, running your thumbs over the backs of his hands. “So, i’ll go first,”

“When I was eight, my cousin thought it’d be a good idea to let his pet tarantula crawl all over my face whilst I was sleeping, and I woke up with it half in my mouth,” You practically shudder at the memory. “Needless to say I developed arachnophobia after that,”

You laugh breathily, shaking your head slightly. “It was not very fun,”

“Why would he do that?”

You shrug slightly, arms moving enough that he can feel it where your fingers connect. “He was a bit of a bully if i’m honest, but he’s matured since then thank god,”

“Are you- still afraid of spiders?” Spencer’s eyes practically shine in the darkness, big, round and glistening with curiosity as they scan your face from beneath his glasses.

“Promise not to make fun of me?” Your question is answer enough, but he still nods softly nonetheless. “I think they’re terrifying,”

“Almost 20% of the US population has arachnophobia, it’s a very common fear to have,”

“So is a fear of the dark,” You bring the conversation back to Spencer’s fear once more. “Willing to tell me its origin story yet?”

Spencer sighs, his shoulders slumping and his head leaning back against the wall of the elevator. “It’s-“ He exhales through his nose, his eyes diverting from yours to stare at your interconnected hands.

“When I was in school I was bullied a lot…” He purses his lips and you nod. As sad as it is you’re not exactly surprised.

Someone as insanely intelligent as him was unfortunately bound to be tormented by those who were academically inferior to him, it’s a by-product of jealousy.

“They uh… stripped me down and tied me to a goal post, and- then they just left me there-“ Spencer’s throat catches as he speaks, and you can see through the way his eyes flicker around that he’s replaying the memory in his head.

“I- managed to untie myself after a while, but I spent over an hour searching for all of my clothes and ended up walking home in the dark half dressed…” Spencer’s lip quivers as he reaches the end of his explanation.

“I don’t think i’ve ever been more scared in my life…”

“I’m so sorry they did that to you…” Your eyebrows furrow with sympathy, and you shift your hold on his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. “Nobody should have to experience that…”

Spencer exhales, and you can hear the shake in his breath. “I thought if I just buried it that i’d forget, but I still remember it like it happened yesterday…”

The curse of an eidetic memory you suppose. Destined to remember every detail of the worst experiences you’d ever had.

Although you’re sure that Spencer wouldn’t need an eidetic memory to have what happened to him burned into his brain.

“Spencer…”

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer shakes his head, attempting to pull his hands out of yours. “I told you it was stupid-“

“Hey. No.” You close your hands around his to stop him from pulling away. “That is in no way stupid at all.”

“You went through something awful and developed a fear because of it. That is the furthest thing from stupid Reid,”

“I just-”

You cut off Spencer’s attempt at a rebuttal with a pull of your hands in his, separating them only to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “No excuses.”

Spencer is stiff in your embrace, unsure of what exactly he should be doing. Should he hug you back? Should he pull away to regain his personal space?

He wasn’t exactly sure. He did however, feel like he was going to cry.

He could feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids, squeezing his eyes shut to stop them from falling down his face and hiding his face against the curve of your shoulder so that you wouldn’t be able to see the shadow of his expression.

God he was pathetic.

Sat in his coworkers embrace because he was scared of the goddamn dark.

On the verge of tears because of something that happened twelve years ago.

A twenty four year old man. A fully grown adult.

His shoulders begin to tremble as he thinks about it, and you can feel the way his breath catches in his throat as you bring your hand to the back of his head to hold him closer to you.

“This is pathetic i’m sorry…” He shakes his head against your shoulder, hindered slightly by the way his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose.

“Shhh,” You shake your head in tandem with his, leaning your cheek against the side of his head as you rub your hand over his back. “Don’t be silly,”

"You're not pathetic, Spencer," You reassure him, your voice gentle. "Everyone has their own fears and struggles. It takes strength to open up about them."

He takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "I just never thought I'd be so affected by it for this long."

"Trauma doesn't have a set expiration date," you say softly. "It's okay to still be working through things. And you don't have to face it alone."

Spencer finally relaxes a bit in your embrace, allowing himself to accept the comfort you're offering. "Thank you," he mumbles, his voice barely audible against the fabric of your shirt.

“No problem-“ You don’t finish your sentence before the lights come back on, causing you to squint from the sudden brightness.

The sudden light flooding the elevator exposes the position the two of you had found yourself in, your legs tangled together as Spencer sits in your embrace with your arms around his torso and his hands resting limply by your waist.

“See?” You pull his face away from your shoulder gently, leaning back to finally get a fully clear view of his face. “Nothing to worry about,”

“Yeah…” He nods softly, eyes still a little red from holding back his tears, and he sniffles as he pulls away from you properly when the elevator starts moving downwards again.

“Do you want a ride home?” Your invitation is obvious as you two of you pick yourselves up from the floor, your eyes silently encouraging him to accept your proposal.

“I-“ The elevator came to another halt, this time thankfully opening its doors on the ground for the two of you to leave.

He had his train ticket in his pocket, but he was willing to forget it for now.

“That would be great, thank you…”

“No problem Spencer, let’s get outta here,”

He tries to brush aside the way he feels when you call him by his first name, nodding softly with pursed lips.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here…”

[purplehalnw]

Okay so I've just finished Daredevil: Born Again and there's one thing that still doesn't make sense to me.

So, Dex killing Foggy (get ready for some [probably mostly unnecessary] yapping).

I remember being very confused after I finished episode 1 because I didn't see any reason for Dex to do this:

#1: Dex doesn't know that Matt is Daredevil, so he couldn't have killed Foggy as revenge for that.

#2: Even if Dex somehow found out about Daredevil's identity in the timeskip between DD s3 & DDBA s1, surely after supposedly breaking out of prison, his first target would be Fisk & Vanessa aka the people he was trying to kill in the first place before Matt stopped him & put him in jail.

#3: In my mind there was no way that Fisk could've hired Dex to kill Foggy, bc there is no chance that Dex would ever let Fisk live, much less work for him again.

So, at first I thought Dex killing Foggy must've had something to do with him getting his spine fixed. At the end of DD s3, I just assumed "oh ok they have this experimental surgery & they'd rather test it on a convicted murderer whose life they don't really care about". But after seeing him kill Foggy, I figured maybe the people who fixed his spine had some correlation with IGH (the organization that would illegally experiment on people & gave Jessica Jones her powers) & that perhaps IGH hired Dex to kill Foggy for some reason. I held that theory for a quite a bit.

But then it was revealed that no, Vanessa hired Dex to kill Foggy. Now after watching the actual scene of her hiring Dex, this does make a bit more sense. Dex was drugged out of his mind and Vanessa was manipulating him by saying that Fisk had no involvement. I understand why Dex would agree to this.

However, what I don't understand is wtf would Vanessa choose him out of all people to kill Foggy???

So, the agreement was that in exchange for being set free, Dex would kill Foggy. Okay, but what about afterwards? This man literally tried to kill you & your husband last time you saw him, what's to stop him from doing that now that he's free? Did you just somehow predict that Daredevil would be able to defeat him & that he'd be apprehended by police? "You're the best". Girl you're not trying to kill the Punisher over here. No offense to my guy Foggy, but girl wtf do you need "the best" in order to kill an average dude with 0 fighting skills? Surely there are plenty of hitmen that could've done the job, without potentially killing you & your husband afterwards?

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire — human blood bank (“season” 2)

part one.

“season” one found on the master list here

s2 takes place about 3 years after s1.

off to a strong start of ni-ki making bad choices, once again.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

ni-ki looked at his reflection once more before grabbing his wallet and phone to head down the stairs.

jungwon and sunoo looked up from their textbooks and notes as they sat on the floor in the living room studying.

“where are you going?” sunoo questioned.

“out.” ni-ki replied.

“shouldn’t you be studying for midterms starting next week?”

ni-ki shrugged. “eh, i’ll start tomorrow.” he fixed the hair in front of his forehead. “i’ll see you losers later.”

“and where are you going?” sunghoon asked coming down the steps soon after, you following close behind.

“out.” ni-ki replied to the elder.

“with who?”

ni-ki sighed, “eunchae.”

you, sunoo, and jungwon made an “oh” noise teasing the youngest.

ni-ki frowned then smiled. “stop that! it’s not like that, as i have told you all plenty of times. we’re just friends.”

using your fingers you mocked the “just friends.”

ni-ki looked at you with annoyed expression, you with a smile on your face. you’ve came to really enjoy teasing him.

“do we need to have the birds and bees talk?” you smiled.

“i’m out.” ni-ki quickly stated and left out the door before you four could bother him anymore.

he walked down the path of the driveway, making his short distance walk to the downtown park he and eunchae always met at.

it was getting late, currently about 8 in the evening, but finally the others trusted him.

as he was deep in thought on what eunchae so badly wanted to show him, he hadn’t heard her walk up behind him.

“boo!” she jumped from behind the bench startling him.

“fuck, eunchae! don’t do that!” he huffed out standing up towering over her.

eunchae laughed. “oh please, don’t you have like vampire hearing and stuff?”

“sometimes i tune it out. it’s a habit.” he replied. “so where is this awesome place you wanted to show me?”

“it’s just a bit of a walk if you don’t mind pretty boy.” eunchae said patting his shoulders.

“lead the way.”

after a few minutes in comfortable silence, ni-ki brought up previous conversations with the others. eunchae laughed, loudly.

“well don’t go breaking my ego.” he scoffed pretending to be hurt.

“i’m sorry.” eunchae wiped away a fake tear. “it’s just the birds and bees talk? it’s not like you can reproduce anyway.” eunchae chuckled. “plus,” she began, eyeing the boy up and down, “you’re not my type, riki.” she smirked.

ni-ki stopped in his tracks, letting eunchae walk a bit ahead. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he yelled after her, running to catch up, however, eunchae laughed and began running herself.

not much longer, eunchae led ni-ki to some woods.

“not gonna kill me are you?”

“not in a million years, riki. who else would tease you?”

“i have 7 others for that.”

ni-ki stopped in his tracks when he finally saw what eunchae was bringing him to.

a group of people, probably about 7, around a fire pit. three of the boys had girls on their laps. their heads buried in the girls necks. from afar or a quick glance, it looks like horny people making out and dry humping.

“are they—,” ni-ki couldn’t even finish his sentence as he noticed the 3 boys there were not just kissing the girls necks, no, they were sucking.

sucking their blood.

ni-ki looked down to eunchae, and she seemed to be in a trance as she smiled big at the people in front of her. he waved his hand in her face.

“eunchae are you okay?”

eunchae looked up to ni-ki with a smile that didn’t look like her own. “of course riki.”

just then, one of the boys who had been draining one of the girls, had noticed the two arrive.

“well hello there eunchae.” the boy smiled, wiping his lips. he walked up to the two.

“hi sunwoo!” she waved excitedly. “i brought my friend, who is like you all!”

ni-ki noticed that tone didn’t sound like eunchae at all. what the hell was going on?

ni-ki bowed with caution. “hello.” he held up a hand to wave quickly.

sunwoo smiled. “welcome to the party.” he showed his fangs. “how long you been a vampire?”

“about three years.” ni-ki replied. “you?”

“mhm, about 15.” sunwoo answered, and began walking back towards the group, eunchae immediately following. ni-ki hesitated but ended up following as well.

“eunchae,” ni-ki whispered, “what’s going on?”

eunchae turned, “would you relax riki?”

“yeah, relax riki.” sunwoo mocked.

ni-ki straightened, “it’s ni-ki to you.”

sunwoo just laughed, “ever feed on a human before?”

“yes.” ni-ki replied, placing his hands in his pockets. “why haven’t my elders told me about you and your group? i’m sure they would know other vampires were around.”

sunwoo sat next to one of the guys feeding, eunchae standing behind sunwoo. ni-ki stood in front of the boy.

“have a seat ni-ki, relax!”

“i will when i feel like it.”

sunwoo scoffed, “well, our vampire kind isn’t liked amongst others. so we have to hide our pretty faces.” sunwoo began to explain, “that’s why we have eunchae here to help find us our meals.”

ni-ki looked at eunchae who looked off blankly. “are you sure it’s something she wants to do?”

“of course riki, i can make my own decisions!” eunchae said. “now sit and make some friends.”

“can you go find our guest a fresh meal?” sunwoo smiled up to eunchae who nodded.

“no no, it’s fine. just ate not too long ago.”

“what? haven’t been able to control your hunger on a regular human yet?” sunwoo clicked his tongue from the root of his mouth.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh don’t you worry you’re pretty head, i’ll explain after you eat.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

back at the house, you laid in bed next to jay, wrapped in his sheets. “mhmm, i don’t think i’ll ever be able to handle you alls stamina.” you groaned.

jay laughed, playing with your hair, before giving you a kiss on the forehead. “it’s fine baby. some of us just need to go easier on you.”

you faked coughed, “jungwon—cough—jake.” you joked and you both laughed. “why are their drives so high?”

jay sighed, “some vampires sexual drives increase once they’ve changed. jake’s increased times 100 because as a human he had a high sex drive. once they adjust more to their strength and being a vampire, it’ll balance out. it’ll take some time though. for some it takes 5 to 10 years. some even longer.”

you sat up, laying on your stomach to face jay who was on his back. you traced patterns on his chest. “why don’t sunoo or ni-ki have high sex drives?”

“believe it or not, not everyone who gets turned ends up having a high sex drive or one at all. it just means something else effects them. for ni-ki i think it’s anger and impulse control. that’s why it’s hard for him to feed on a regular human other than you. with sunoo, his sensitivity hightened. he can feel emotions on a deeper level of those around him.”

you kissed jay’s chest and relaxed into his arms, feeling exhaustion take over your body. “don’t get too tired baby, i think jungwon wants to feed.”

“can he please wait until tomorrow? that boy will absolutely wreck me, and i definitely cannot even stand on my own right now.” you laughed.

“i’ll let him know.”

jungwon opened the door to jays room shortly after with a pout. “i promise i won’t be rough!”

“she’s tired, you can have her tomorrow.” jay said.

you looked to jungwon with a smile, “you can have me all day tomorrow.”

“promise?” jungwon smiled big.

“promise.”

“yoi, okay.” he chuckled and left jays room.

“he’s gonna be extra clingy to you tomorrow, just know that.”

“eh i expect it.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

around 1 am, after everyone had turned in for the night, it was sunoo who heard the window to his room being slightly opened further than what he usually leaves it to feel a breeze.

he awoke startled, to see an almost drunk like ni-ki stumbling into his room, falling on the floor.

“ni-ki!” sunoo yelled in a hushed tone. sunoo quickly got up, to help the youngest stand up. sunoo immediately felt a rush of energy, excitement, fear, and regret. “ni-ki, what did you do?”

“i’m tired.” he hiccuped and walked out of the room, stumbling to his own. ni-ki looked disheveled, his jacket he left with, now missing.

sunoo followed ni-ki to his room, watching the youngest plop on his bed, still dressed in outside clothes. sunoo walked up to the boy to shake him. “you at least need to change.”

ni-ki agreed and went to grab clothes. he walked across the hall to the bathroom he shared with sunoo, and turned on the shower.

sunoo sighed, shaking his head, but decided, ni-ki was in no way shape or form to discuss tonight’s events. sunoo went back to his room with hesitation but knew if he kept pressing on the youngest, it could get ugly.

in the shower, ni-ki let tonight’s events run off his body, feeling guilty of all he did. he didn’t even want to remember what happened. he put it in the back of his memory, but the tingling sensation of feeding on a human other than you, excited him. he felt a new burst of energy he didn’t get from you.

he knew he would be seeing sunwoo and those boys again soon.

─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩

note from the author:

≽^•⩊•^≼

we are so back 🤍

like, reblog, comment!! do not repost or translate pls, tysm ©

feedback is greatly appreciated and welcomed

[vagueeyes]

alright here goes, my in9 journey & self-reflection post.

warning: this is longgg and rambly. and personal.

i'd like to start off by detailing how i got to this point - so here's a timeline!

-the first time i heard of in9 was likely during one of my random wikipedia deep dives. i was definitely one of those people who thought a show called INSIDE NO. 9 was about politics, perhaps something like THE THICK OF IT?

-the first time i actually watched it, was in january 2021. the month before, i had started watching NO MORE JOCKEYS, which was recommended by the TASKMASTER subreddit, shortly after s10 had finished airing. and, well, i basically became obsessed with tim key - he's such a scamp!! after catching up on NMJ and also watching TM s1, i was looking into his filmography and noticed INSIDE NO. 9. from what i read about him, his performance in this was a recommended watch - so i looked online, found the show, and gave SARDINES a go.

-i don't actually remember much about the first watch other than thinking tim was great, and i did go ohhh at the twist.

-since i had nothing else to watch at the time, i also gave A QUIET NIGHT IN and TOM & GERRI a go. the former i remember liking because it appealed to my interest in silent film/comedy. the latter i was really engrossed in, but that final image of migg in the bathtub really haunted me - to the point where i took a break and figured i'd come back to the show when i was ready.

-well. i moved house that summer and promptly forgot to pick it up again.

-around this time i was watching BAKE OFF regularly and always tuned in to the celebrity episodes. when reece was announced as part of the line up, i definitely remember reading people being excited to watch him, because this wasn't something he normally does? i did watch his episode, having known/recognised him from in9, but i don't think i had any particular thought/opinion on him. (oh boy...)

-iirc steve was a guest on wilty in 2022 - this was also a show i regularly watched (and still do, unlike BAKE OFF). very much like reece on BAKE OFF, i tuned in to this episode recognising/knowing steve from in9, but again i did not have any actual opinion on him. the only thing i remember reading were people's comments about one of his anecdotes, saying "anyone who knows anything about steve and reece will know that story about pretending to be dead was true".

-now let's jump to late 2023! i read spoilers on who was going to be on TM s17, and at the time i remember thinking, "ah i recognise steve & john robbins, heard of nick mohammed because of TED LASSO, maybe i know who joanne mcnally is? never seen or heard of sophie willan".

-cut to april 2024 - i tuned in to s17 and basically instantly liked steve. this clever and deeply strange man!! by this time, i had already planned to come to the UK in may for a vacation.

-during my vacation - on may 8 at 9:58pm, i was about to go to bed in my hotel room, but i decided to quickly scan the tv guide and happened to see that INSIDE NO. 9 was going to be on in 2 minutes. looking at the episode info, i googled and saw that this was the first episode of the ninth series, and apparently this was their last one! so i quickly decided to tune in to BOO TO A GOOSE.

-i remember my first watch of this ep - delighted to see susan wokoma, whom i loved in TM s16. really loved steve as wilma. funnily enough, was not paying much attention to reece, other than laughing at his funny lines. i had forgotten the show had "twists", so the twist in this one caught me by surprise!

-because i was vacationing for 2 weeks, i decided i would tune in to the next episode the following week. again because of TM, my first watch of THE TROLLEY PROBLEM was mainly thinking "wow steve is so good in this", but part way through, during the bathroom/mirror scene (you know the one), i sort of looked at reece a bit and thought "wait a second..."

-about two weeks after returning home, i decided to check when the last episode was airing, and figured i should catch up on episodes 3 and 4. MULBERRY CLOSE i instantly loved because of the static camera/hitchcock homage, and here is where my reece obsession started to creep up on me. what's really funny is it took me a while to realise who he was in this episode? for the first few minutes i legit thought damon was being played by stephen graham!! anyway, i was drawn in by that gruff but not mean-spirited aspect of the character (does that make sense?), and the way reece played him - i was especially impressed because you don't even really see him for like 80% of the time!

-over the next week following watching this episode, i started to look up reece on youtube (which is what i often do when i want to know more about someone), and saw this video (highly recommend all of misc.mp4's reece/steve/pembersmith vids):

and hellooo i instantly fell in love. i realise this is a persona and he plays it up, but he's just so funny and like, adorable??

-so then i decided to pick in9 back up from where i left off in 2021 - starting with LAST GASP, whilst waiting for the last two s9 episodes to air. and the rest is history!!

-the order in which i watched was basically: started bingeing in9 > paused at s5 to watch PSYCHOVILLE (whilst reading the wiki i decided i wanted to know the context before getting to DEATH BE NOT PROUD) > tuned in to CURSE OF THE NINTH > finished PSYCHOVILLE and in9 s5 > tuned in to PLODDING ON (you can imagine how many references i missed) > finished in9 and rewatched s9 > watched back the episodes i liked > binged TLOG

in terms of tumblr:

-during my teen years i was on Livejournal and mainly made icons, sometimes did those episode recap posts (featuring screencaps throughout - lmk if you know what i'm talking about!!). when that site went down and tumblr was a place to migrate to, i had a blog for a while in 2011, couldn't figure out what to do with it, deleted, came back a bit in 2014 to do screencaps posts - then i lost access to photoshop CS2, and basically didn't do any blogging or fandom-related stuff for a long time. i attempted to write stuff now and then (mostly "reviews" pfft), but couldn't really commit or keep it going. i always tried to come back to tumblr to do this, but never saw this as a place for text-heavy posts. (oh boy again...)

-one thing that's been constant though, was whenever i became hyperfixated on something (or someone), i always knew there would be people who felt the same & there would be posts about this on tumblr.

-so while i was watching in9, i did look at the sub but it seemed...inactive? then i looked at tumblr and quickly found blogs like @local-blog-for-local-people and basically started regularly checking it.

-and thennn when @in9-character-tournament started coming up in various blogs i was dipping in & out of (i could @ some of you but i don't wanna be a weirdo, or do i?), i thought "well i'd like to get in on this". so i officially created this blog on reece's birthday (LOL this was intentional but also easy to remember in terms of blog anniversaries 😉)!

-however, even then, i was too nervous/scared to really post anything. and i didn't even know what to post about! i got the scriptbooks in september and started reading them, at one point thinking "oh maybe i can talk about this". but what would i talk about? surely everyone knows everything and can articulate it better than i ever could?

-then in december when i read that r&s said they had no plans to record S/F, i panicked a bit. i had counted on them recording it and never even thought of going to see it live. the dates were weird imo and in past experience, winter/early spring might not be a great time to visit the UK, weather-wise. after mulling it over a bit, i checked the tickets website, saw it was nearly sold out, and decided to do some quick planning. the latest possible date & seat/price that seemed to be alright was march 27, 2025. well, i thought, "early spring in the UK could be nice?" i previously planned on coming in may, but decided to move everything up and take the plunge. this seemed like a once in a lifetime chance and i didn't want to miss out!

-when i bought the ticket and got the vacation planning started, a week or two later i saw @unreesonable rb the DEVIL OF CHRISTMAS commentary post where reece tells the story of where "you can almost see the pound signs in his eyes!" comes from. i had rewatched the episode on christmas with the scriptbook out to read along, and i remembered that that line wasn't scripted. so seeing the post i thought, "maybe i could rb and write this in the tags?" and there was the start of my blogging!

-my initial approach was to treat this as a media diary/stream of consciousness process thing, where i'd look up posts related to whatever i had just watched or was thinking about & rb that, putting any thoughts in the tags (and i guess that's what i'm still doing!). i wasn't completely sure i'd ever do "original" posts. at the beginning of the year i had started to read scriptbook 3, and had some ideas of what i could say. @insideno9bracket bracket was a terrific find - i followed what everyone was doing in terms of rb'ing to explain their vote/thought process, and here i feel is where i started to ease myself into the fandom. with @donotbelasagne's first stats post calling for propaganda posts in round 2, i thought, "well hey i can do some of that!"

-often i fluctuated between "should i post this? does anyone care? am i too boring or analytical about this?" and "wait why should i worry! this is my blog and i can do whatever i please, who cares if this gets 0 notes!" and other times i lurched from "please perceive me 🥺" and "oh god i'm being perceived, what do i do now!!"

-during the countdown to S/F i sometimes gave myself anxiety wondering whether i'd meet anyone in the fandom or whether i'd do stage door & what that would be like. in hindsight this was (reece voice/chuckle) ridiculous, given how calm & collected i ended up being on the day/days??

-S/F was not only an experience of seeing reece & steve live, it was also a chance to meet like-minded people irl. this was not something i ever thought i'd do! what's lovely is even meeting people i hadn't really interacted with much online (or even at all), it's like we all became friends the moment we saw each other!

i love how international this fandom is and that we were all brought together through our love of in9 + universe. everyone is so passionate and creative and funny!! i love (and am still a bit surprised) that steve being on tm/s9/S/F is what seemed to get people to create accounts and start blogging!

i feel like this is getting too long so i'll jump to the thanks (keeping it short tbh):

-i'd like to thank @silverview for being my first mutual (did i ever tell you you were?). reading about you meeting up with others in the fandom for S/F, i basically see you as our ambassador lol.

-huge thanks to @wintersoulwitch for running @unreesonable, what a treasure trove of a blog & i love all the digging & digital dumpster diving!!

-thank you to @local-blog-for-local-people, your blog is so organised and long-standing. i love looking through the tags/archive to see what people had posted in the past. (also i'm very flattered to see some of my own posts appear there!) sorry for spamming your activity with likes/rb's - but you know, i WILL keep doing this loll!!

-thank you again to everyone i met on april 5!! you guys are all so nice and beautiful!!! (i'm not @ing again so hopefully some of you see this lol)

and lastly, big big thanks to everyone who has ever read &/or interacted with my posts. S/F might mean the end of my journey in terms of experiencing in9-related things (& extended universe) for the first time, but i am NOT done posting about the show! as ken plume said in his pods with reece (which i highly recommend btw, if you haven't heard them - it's the most "as himself" as i've heard of reece):

ken: but, you know, there's still plenty of people that haven't discovered PSYCHOVILLE and INSIDE NO. 9 and should (reece: yeah, true) - so maybe that's it, maybe it's just building an awareness campaign for the stuff that already exists. reece: yeah. you set me thinking about the fact that it doesn't mean it's the end. it exists for people to find.

it's exciting that S/F is going on tour and that more people will get to see & experience the show. i hope this will bring more newcomers - either draw in people who have never seen in9 or the back catalogue to watch them, or even come to tumblr!

because if anything can harvest or keep a hyperfixation alive, it's tumblr. so i WILL keep posting about the show, reece & steve, the extended universe (whenever possible), until...i dunno, i run out of ideas? but i'm not even done yapping about guillem, and i've barely started on christian henson & yves. and the other directors! louise hooper, al campbell, george kane —

[hawkeene]

okay i finished 6a (only 5 eps left to go now!) and i'm genuinely so emotional about demetri and hawk (as i always am) because genuinely, all of their issues always stem from how much they love each other.

in s1-3, eli changes. he becomes hawk. and he gets popular! and he stops getting bullied! and his life isn't hell anymore, and fuck, he likes himself a little bit more. but demetri doesn't. demetri who's been by his side forever, who has always been his best friend, half of himself even, looks at him stronger, happier, more confident and just... looks away. and it makes hawk so mad because everyone else loves him now. everyone but demetri. and everyone isn't enough. he needs demetri to love him too. but demetri refuses to for some reason, and he even refuses to call him by his new name. he flat-out refuses to acknowledge the person he's become, and it hurts hawk so much. but being hurt by something like this is for pussies, so he turns it into anger, and he lashes out again demetri constantly. if demetri refuses to clap, then hawk will give him an actual reason not to. and to add to it all, he thinks demetri doesn't love him anymore. and yet, hawk can't stop loving him.

and demetri, on the other hand, has loved eli his entire life. even when no one else did, demetri loved him, oh, so much. until one day, eli changes. he has a new look, a new haircut, a new tattoo, new friends, and a new personality even. and suddenly, demetri is on the outside looking in. it had always been him and eli against the world, but now eli is in the world, and demetri is left standing on the edge alone. and he doesn't get it. their friendship has always been everything he needs, so why does eli need more? why isn't he enough anymore? and now eli is slipping through his fingers, and demetri can barely recognize his friend anymore. and he tries so hard to hang on, but all eli ever does is push him away. so demetri pushes back. because clinging hurts too much, and clearly eli doesn't want anything to do with him anymore, so why does his chest hurt when he looks at him?

they're both so angry at each other, because they still love each other so much. hawk is mad at demetri because he still loves him so much. because demetri is the one part of eli he can't seem to get rid of. even when he tries his best to drown it, this fondness, this love he has for demetri manages to break through to the surface, and hawk just can't let that happen. so he pushes demetri, farther and farther, hoping demetri will finally give up on him, on them. but he doesn't give up. even when he's mad at hawk, even when they've been at odds for months, he tells him "you'd actually hurt me?". and then, again "please, stop, it's me". even after everything hawk has done, demetri still believes there's something there, between them.

and then s6 rolls around, and again, love is the issue. demetri has planned his entire life with eli (around eli) for... forever. and when they made up, he just assumed that was back on track. that whatever path he walked, eli would walk beside him. wherever he'd go, eli would go, because he would go anywhere eli does. and that's such a given for him. that is never questioned even once. once they start talking about uni with their friends, demetri never once asks eli where he's going because, duh, he's going to MIT with him. demetri and eli will be together, tomorrow, in 3 weeks, in 3 years. it is a fact of nature. it is the one thing demetri is always sure of.

but on the other hand? hawk has grown, and changed, and he's become so much more than he ever thought he would be. and he still loves demetri, and robotics, and designing, and nerd shit, but he also knows there's more to him now, and some part of him wants to explore that! and when he tells demetri he might not be going to MIT, when he tells him he wants to "keep his options open" (insane dialogue choice btw), he doesn't understand demetri's reaction. because he's so confident in the strength of their relationship, he doesn't really see what the issue is? and because of that, because the thought that being away from each other could change things never even once crosses his mind, he reads demetri's anger as obsession, as being a control freak, instead of the fear that actually hides behind it. because there's no fear in hawk's mind. even if they go to different schools, they'll always be in each other's lives, they'll always love each other, so why is demetri reacting like this?

they're mad at each other because how much they care and love for each other creates a huge misunderstanding. if eli doesn't want to go to MIT with demetri, that's a personal attack on demetri, on their relationship, and it must mean eli doesn't love him as much as he does him. if demetri reacts so vehemently to hawk exploring his options, it's because he's a control freak who still refuses to love and accept hawk for who he's become.

and it's just... it's so fascinating. each time they're having major issues, love is the fucking problem. the love they have for each other is exactly what's driving the wedge between them. because both times, demetri loves eli so much he doesn't understand why he needs anything more than them, because he certainly doesn't, he never has. because both times, hawk doesn't understand why the person he loves most refuses to love him for who he is, fully, and that hurts so much because he's the only one whose opinion really matters.

[sunlitsparks]

Holy SHIT rewatching Miraculous from the beginning has opened my eyes to SOOO many things I missed the first time around.

Primarily I'm talking about Adrien, Felix, and Kagami being sentimonsters. With Felix, it was a little obvious that he held some connection with the Peacock Miraculous and sentimonsters in general...but even in the episode that revealed this about him (S5 Ep24 Representation), I still thought they were talking about just him, and didn't find out until like, a month ago ish, that Kagami and Adrien were sentimonsters too.

Then while rewatching, I began to notice things that were too subtle the first time around (too subtle for me, at least; I don't pick up well on foreshadowing, which is why I tend to re-watch / re-read my favorite medias multiple times). Namely, with Adrien. In many instances when Gabriel gave Adrien an order, he would rub the twin rings on his hand - the object containing the amok to control Adrien. One instance that stuck out to me the most was when Gabriel forced Adrien to obey him while akumatizing him in Ephemeral (S4 Ep22): he was visibly rubbing the ring underneath his glove.

Additionally, after sending Adrien (who turned out to actually be Felix) on the train to London in Risk (S4 Ep25), he gave his remaining Ring to Nathalie (Felix still possessed the second ring). Why? So she had control over him! After Felix returned the second ring to Gabriel, however, Nathalie kept the first. Later on, in Protection (S5 Ep16), Gabriel and Nathalie are at odds over Adrien's love for Marinette. Gabriel dislikes her, finds her to be an ill influence for his son, and orders Adrien to stay away from her (or,, something like that? I haven't made it to Protection again in my rerun yet, I rewatched it by itself a few weeks ago but I've already forgotten the details lol). Shortly after, Nathalie reassures Adrien that his father cannot be allowed to control his life and he should follow his heart. This is followed by Adrien saying something like "You're right, I don't know what came over me!" Then later we see Gabriel realizing that Adrien brought Marinette in the house against his wishes, and the camera pans directly to the ring on Nathalie's finger. And Gabriel's words? "You gave him a counter-order?!" Now I see it, it was so deliberate and clear.

And another thing I just noticed after finishing Perfection (S1 Ep12) like 5 minutes ago, following Kagami breaking free from her akumatization on her own...her mom bursts into Gabriel's office, flipping her absolute shit. "You sent a megakuma into my daughter's ring?! You endangered her life!!" AND OH MY GOD I GET IT. Her ring contains the amok! Breaking the amokized object releases the sentimonster from existence. If Kagami had not broken free of her akumatization by herself, Ladybug and Chat Noir would have had to destroy the ring to release the akuma. THIS WOULD HAVE KILLED KAGAMI.

Holy shit there's so much love and detail into this show. It is way more than just a silly kids' show oh my god.