#i love being sent stuff man it makes me feel good about myself
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moonlitbirdie · 2 days ago
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Hi Birdee,
Your post from the other day about your checkup really moved me - and bilateral salpingectomy is something that has been on my mind, particularly with 🍊 being elected now. Plus from my research it seems like it may reduce/prevent chances of getting certain cancers, which makes it a win-win ( it runs in our family).
I totally get if this is much too personal for you, so please don’t feel like you should respond to this - but I’m curious about how your experience was, re: pain levels and the process itself. Initially I was going to DM you to ask, but then I realized that there probably are a lot of other afab!folks who may be considering it due to, hence me submitted this asn. Would you recommend the procedure?
Xoxo
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Hi hello friend!! god i love that shot of Joel so much. I'm totally not distracted at all.
Forgive me for taking a few days to get back to you, husband had his wisdom teeth removed yesterday and I wanted to be able to give this a good answer in case it was helpful to anyone else. Fingers crossed that is the last surgery either of us have for a LONG TIME. 😭
Anyways!
I figured I'd just go through the whole process for anyone curious.
cw under cut: description of medical procedures/surgery/blood mentions
I met with my gynecologist in September to talk about options. I had a copper IUD for about 10 years and my husband had about three weeks after they overturned Roe v. Wade, but I wanted something more permanent for myself. There was still a minuscule chance that I could get pregnant and there is, unfortunately, always the chance of SA. I live in Louisiana where abortion is illegal with very, very few exceptions, and I don't really want my life being decided by some emergency room doctor in the Bible Belt, so sterilization it is!
It was surprisingly easy to get it scheduled, but my gynecologist was very willing and cooperative with the whole request. I got it all set up for the day after my birthday, which husband and I laughed about because he got his vasectomy on his birthday. Weird way to celebrate, yk?
At my pre-op appointment I signed a bunch of paperwork and she did a quick pelvic exam--I don't think this is generally part of it, but my GP's office had not sent over the results from my last pap, so she wanted to make sure everything was normal for her own peace of mind. Nothing like getting a speculum shoved inside of you with your husband sitting next to you.
Anyways, she also explained the difference between a tubal ligation and a bilateral salpingectomy. Essentially, a tubal ligation blocks or cuts your fallopian tubes, while a bilateral salpingectomy removes them completely. The tubal ligation is sometimes reversible, while the bilateral salpingectomy is not. She also mentioned, like you said, removing the fallopian tubes dramatically decreases the risk of ovarian cancer because most ovarian cancer originates in the fallopian tubes.
The only surgery I'd ever had before was, incidentally, wisdom teeth removal, and that was almost 20 years ago so I was pretty nervous the day of the procedure. Her office is in a hospital so it was done in their OR. I got there at 8 am, already starving and grumpy because I couldn't take my medication or eat or drink anything after midnight and I ate dinner the night before at 6 pm so. Grr.
They took me back at about 8:30 to start surgery prep, made me pee in a cup, drew some blood, all that stuff. My veins actually ended up rebelling when they went to put in an IV, and they had to call in their "vein expert," a very lovely tattoo-covered man named David who took one look at my arm and said "Ah, this'll be easy. She's got great veins." He poked me once and found the vein immediately, much to the (light-hearted) irritation of the other nurses. Apparently, I was just very dehydrated and it was causing problems.
I don't remember much of anything after this because they immediately gave me drugs that made me loopy and then put me under general anesthesia, but it was a laparoscopic procedure. She made three incisions--one on each side of my abdomen and one through my bellybutton, so I have three little scars. Took about an hour, and I woke up in the recovery room.
I was home before noon.
It was a little rough for a few days after, but I think I got off pretty easy. I did have some pain in my abdomen and couldn't walk around much without getting worn out. It felt like I'd done some really intense crunches and I couldn't sleep on my tummy for about a week. I also had a few absolutely wild mood swings. I didn't have any bleeding after the first day.
I still have my ovaries and my uterus, I still get a period, all that's still like it was before.
Overall I think it was as good an experience as it could be. My only complication was that my IUD, which she was removing at the same time, broke apart and now there's just an IUD arm in me, but that is mostly unrelated to this. Apparently this is common when the IUDs have been inside for a long time and she can do a procedure to take it out, too.
WHEW this is long. All of this is to say is if you're wanting a permanent form of birth control and you can afford it (mine was mostly covered by insurance), I would recommend it. Especially with the current state of things. Protecting ourselves is so important.
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xluciifer · 7 months ago
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reorientation · 5 months ago
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I'm ftm and I've been on HRT for 5 years, had top surgery and I generally pass really well. My passport says I'm male, too. But until very recently, I never even saw a real cock in person, despite being a fairly horny person - I've only had sex with two people, both afab and transmasc as well. Ironically, I was the dom-ish one in both of these relationships, too.
But... I kept spending a lot of time online browsing through humiliation and misgendering porn. Reddit, tumblr, all that stuff. I kept fantasizing about being used like that. The rougher the better. I've got so many fantasies about it.
It took me a long time to finally install grindr. First, I chickened out and uninstalled it. And then installed again. Uninstalled. Installed.
And one night, around midnight, I started writing with someone. He lived 5 minutes from me. Told me I could come for a quick discreet fuck, just that, like I'm a fleshlight. And... I did. I went out, came to his house, got bent over and for maybe 8 minutes, he fucked my pussy, groped my ass and made me feel like a toy.
I loved it.
I didn't even get to cum, obviously. He didn't even ask for my name until afterwards. And then I told him to hit me up if he ever needs to unload again. It was my first cock ever, first one I've seen and first one I've let inside my most private parts, and the first cock even saw me as a fleshlight because that's how I advertised myself.
I kept grindr on my phone after that. I'm not using it too much, but it's there, waiting for me. And I did have a few more encounters after this one. I guess it awoken the slut inside me...
While this first guy used a condom, I was quick to find a second one. And I was so horny that I let him cum inside me (he even took some pics). I'm not on any contraception apart from T, which isn't contraception, and I'm scared like hell of getting pregnant. So afterwards, I had an awkward pharmacy talk, because I came in and said 'I need emergency contraception', they asked if it's for me, they stared at me and said 'it's for females'. I didn't sleep at all this night (because he was too busy with my body...) and I stood there like a dumb bitch for a few seconds while the guy (he came with me) said 'he's female' and that unlocked something in my brain and I said I'm trans.
Today, I might get fucked raw by another guy again. I had enough brains to get on birth control after that awkward pharmacy talk but apparently not enough brains to stop offering my cunt to strangers...
Oh also it's the ftm who just send you a long ask about fucking people from grindr and having an awkward pharmacy talk and possibly fucking another stranger tonight, I thought I should add some kind of name so you know who I am so uhmmm I guess my deadname would be a good fit and knowing you know it along with the fact that I'm offering my pussy to strangers will be kinda hot. So hi, I'm Alice uhh, and nobody used this name for me in years...
🎵One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small 🎵
Except for you, Alice, I suppose it's "keeps you small" - without that little pill, you might already be swelling. 🖤
Sometimes things happen very fast, don't they? You hadn't even seen a cock in real life, for all those years, and then just a few days after you sent your first Grindr message, you were out in public listening to the man who'd just fucked his cum into you tell a stranger that you're female.
How did it feel to have them looking at you, Alice? To feel their eyes on you and realize that they knew you had a fresh load of cum inside your pussy. To realize that after all your efforts to pass, you still ended up having to admit that you have a fertile womb, and that a real man had put his seed into it.
It felt good, didn't it? Being a cumdump, and having them know it. Being humiliated in public because you'd been so desperate to give your pussy to a stranger. Having them see right through your identity to the needy little cunt underneath.
But maybe they're not seeing through anything. You've been dreaming of "misgendering" and letting men use you as a fleshlight without even asking your name. Maybe this is your new identity - not a man, just a needy little cunt.
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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months ago
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alright, so i completely understand if you don't wanna do this since you have been getting a lot of tadc requests, so feel free to leave this in your inbox for a while but its worth a shot i guess.
tadc x angel reader? but im not talking about the cute and adoring ones, moresore the bibical angel type. kind of like principalities angels if you know what that is. scary stuff.
thanks for all that you do btw, i love your writing and as a fanfiction writer myself im amazed at how quickly your able to pump out requests
thanks for reading
TADC cast x angel!reader !
took me a hot minute to find it but someone asked for the same/very similar request for zooble so!! that post is going to be linked in place of their segment! yahoo! uhuhuhuh!! admin must admit, he does not know much about actual angel lore so hes gonna be real loose with this </3 aaaand to the last part!! its the silliness... i cant contain it... sobs...
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CAINE:
now i dont know what kind of personality the reader has, but imagine your wings stick out and fluff up when he decides hes bold enough to compliment, or even flirt with you... has probably led to him getting smacked by your wings and being sent flying... the price of being small, sadly... though he did kind of have it coming for standing where he was/j
sometimes, you guys fly together, since caine very rarely walks around on the ground and kind of just glides around... its nice having someone who can accompany him around... doesnt think your intimidating, if anything he thinks you look interesting... hes probably unphased by most of the forms circus members may take, though its rare you get someone who does look unsettling... shrugs
POMNI:
honestly probably a little intimidated, and perhaps even unnerved in the beginning. like not in the "im deeply uncomfortable" way but more like "oh. so thats a thing" if that makes sense? does try to be nice and kind to you, though, since she does understand that this isnt what you really look like and you cant really... control it... probably has sneezed from the feathers of your wings, if you have any.. in fact you might have accidentally smacked her with them, since shes so small.. you didnt mean to..! honest! caine and pomni just got cursed with the shortness... no thoughts, only angel reader protectively shielding someone with their wings, this can apply to any of the characters... probably one of my favorite tropes for characters with large wings tbh
RAGATHA:
if you can swap out your clothes or have clothes that are detachable (since clothes are canonically stuck to the bodies) shes definitely going to make you some clothing that you can easily slip over your wings, and still have them out! plus spending time with you making the measurements and trying out patterns and fabric is nice! thinks your wings are soft... probably a little put off by your appearance and vibe at first, but ragatha being ragatha shes not going to let it bother her for long, and she makes sure youre welcomed to the circus with open arms... i mean its not like you have a choice to leave... may as well be as inviting as possible..!
JAX:
drum roll please! its the admins favorite jax headcannon that always rears its head in whenever the admin writes a reader who has some extra body part or fluff or accessories or a combination! the fidget/fiddle headcannon! this man is likely going to stroke and mess with your wings, a lot. congrats, youre his new fidget toy/j. has probably accidentally, or perhaps no so accidentally, pulled a feather out. granted im not sure how much it would hurt, i think it would be akin to plucking hair with a tweezer, but the point still stands..! has probably asked you to fly him up somewhere... totally not so he can do some mischief... probably doesnt know much about angels (like the admin LMAO) and probably labels you as like. sterotypical cartoon angel personality (forgiving, kind, good, ect. basically everything that isnt jax/j) but whether or not thats true its up to you... though it would be a little funny for the person who looks like an angel being a trickster... shrugs
KINGER:
FEAR!!! okay... well i think thats a given when theres a new circus member around, since kinger is a little... eh... you know? probably takes some time to warm up to you, but given how he speaks to pomni in the pilot within the first few minutes of her being there, i dont think it would take long for him to approach you. definitely polite, probably even more so thanks to your angelic appearance. mmngh.. soft feathers... shares the jax fidget headcannon with the silly chess piece... bonus if you actually are really kind and protective, this man would be hovering around you since you kind of represent comfort to him... thinks...
ZOOBLE:
right here!
GANGLE:
while most of the others are a little intimidated i think gangle actually likes the aesthetics of angels. maybe thats just the artist in her; like every artist ive met either has a soft spot for angel or demon characters... sometimes both.. admins no exception, its like. mandatory artist trait/j
i had a winged reader request somewhere, where gangle puts the readers fallen feathers into art work and gifts it to them. kind of like how people used to put the hair of their loved ones in jewelry... i think that would also apply to an angel reader! similar to kinger, if youre protective shes going to gravitate towards you... given that shes made of ribbon and fragile... and because of SOOOOOMEONE (glares at jax)... very nice dynamic/relationship material here, me thinks
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meraki-yao · 1 year ago
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RWRB: A list of thoughts on the Campfire Scene
Ok I went to sleep for another hour to calm myself down and now I can form coherent thoughts about the scene and not just scream and squeal
It's a three-minute scene with two shots. The first shot is a little over two minutes
When Alex asks his question, Henry, who was looking into the fire, tilts his head towards Alex as if to listen better. After Alex finishes, Henry looks up towards the sky, like he's wondering how to answer
Alex doesn't really react to Henry's "Once upon a time" even though he's not directly answering Alex's question. He just listens, and that's such a beautiful thing
Nick deserves a round of applause for this scene, his monologue was two minutes long, and monologues are really hard to perform because it's just you who keeps talking, you don't really get to react to other things or people, it's just you, so Nick is a fantastic job
Nick's delivery and tone, and the way he sometimes ends a sentence a bit like a question (ex: "acutely") makes it sound like Henry's been thinking about this story/ metaphor for a while but this is the first time he ever verbalizes it, so while he knows what he wants to talk about thus he doesn't need to pause a lot to think of the story, he does occasionally need to think of the next word or line because again, he never actually said any of this out loud before, and Nick does that so well
@pippin-katz pointed out that Nick misspoke and said "sent the suit a prince of armour" which is hilarious, and while because movie, this shouldn't happen, realistically we all have moments where we mix words up so it almost feels more... authentic? Also, I didn't pick it up but now that Pippin mentioned it I'm really aware of it lmao
Also Henry/Nick's voice here is so soothing? I can almost imagine him telling bedtime stories to his and Alex's kids like this in the future. I wonder if Henry would write children's books because it feels like it'd be something he do and something he could write really well, if this clip is anything to go by. Plus I stumbled across an audio of Nick reading "The Emperor's New Clothes" before (I literally have no context of why he was reading that and it was literally just audio, not sure if I can find it anymore) and it was so soothing and calming that I fell asleep to it one night. Besides the full-cast RWRB audiobook that I'm practically demanding at this point, I wonder if he would be interested in doing more audiobook/narration stuff. He's really got the voice for it
The King sending a suit of armour to protect the prince's heart kind of further proves my point of the King being a much more loving grandparent to Henry than the queen in the book, and him worrying more about Henry himself than the image of the crown. He noticed that 1, Henry is an emotionally sensitive person, 2, Henry is gay, and both of those things could be turned against him easily, and he will get hurt. He does love Henry, just not in a way that's good for Henry. If we get a sequel I do hope we can see them reconcile in one way or another. It'd be a nice example for people in the same positions.
The "Nothing will ever happen to him" line!!!! I wrote a whole essay about Kensington and this line because somehow this line was one of the most powerful ones to me, but to know that it was originally Henry's word just adds another level of pain to the Kensington scene
You can see Henry's face light up when he starts talking about the peasant boy. And Alex's quick eyebrow raise and deep chuckle. It's so beautiful, I wanna cry
We talk about Alex's heart eyes, which, yes, but Henry's look of pure adoration and love at Alex when he says "Truly Alive" makes me want to melt
I yelled a little at Alex when he started to lay back down (as in I verbally shouted "DAMMIT ALEX LOOK AT YOUR MAN") because I felt like if Alex saw Henry's face in the following lines he'd figure out Henry has issues earlier? But then I saw a take saying the shot was framed like theatre where Henry's both centre stage and in the spotlight so the focus is on him, so Alex was designed to lay back down on the timber bench to make the entire space for Henry
Henry's look of sad longing when he talks about the peasant boy pulling apart his armor is heartbreaking
I wonder if this was originally planned to be the changing point from Alex's POV to Henry's POV? Because in that case I do think the lake scene worked better as a changing point
I also wonder how did Henry end the story in his head up to this point? Because as hopefully as the last line is, at this point in the story, Henry still doesn't believe he can keep this
I get why scenes are cut because when you're putting together a movie, there are a lot of things you don't see for individual scenes until you put them together. This is why as much as I want the cast and crew to get the premiere they deserve to have, I don't really want an extended cut of the movie, because things were cut for a good reason
That being said, if the cornetto scene and this scene proved anything, is that the scenes themselves are fascinating, and I WANT THEM ALL
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ghostchems · 1 month ago
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i am definitely feeling much better after this little extended break from tumblr.
it’s nice to just write what i want and not be worried about what’s popular, what people are talking about, will i get notes, etc. i’m like in my own little world and i only really focus on the feedback i get on ao3.
i haven’t missed the drama that gets stirred up, the anons that get sent out of anger and people acting like their headcanons are CORRECT when we can interpret ghost however we want.
i want to dig in a little bit on what sent me away though.
i had an experience with someone in the fandom. they were in a server i was in. they were pushing their fic which is fine and i love when people are passionate in what they write about but it was a ship that is very polarizing in the fandom. i follow people who ship it and am able to scroll past and support their other works, but this was in a server so it was forced on me and other members.
a channel was created specifically for the ship. but they kept on posting outside of it with their fic and things about it until it got to the point where i very nicely asked them to keep it in the channel that was made for it. i am not being subjective when i say i was nice about it. i was. I can understand wanting people to read your fic and being super into what you’re writing and stuff. i even said that. but at that point it’s like im sorry im not going to read it because i just don’t want to read about that ship.
then things got really weird. messages were sent and then unsent. they told me i triggered their mental illness. basically making it out that i was the problem, that asking them nicely to keep it to the specified channel was the problem.
that was the final straw man. i am sure a lot of people have run into issues like this on here where people just don’t care about your feelings and make themselves out to the the victim no matter what. it really turned me off to this community I’ve been apart of for like two years.
it’s like people forget what ghost is all about sometimes.
we’re supposed to be nice to each other and support each other. to listen and do better if someone is uncomfortable or tries to establish a boundary, especially in a place like a server. it’s okay that we all ship different things and headcanon different things but just be chill about it man.
i also want to point out some of the good though — I’ve met some really REALLY lovely people on here. people i talk to every day. that are nice and kind and funny and creative. i wouldn’t take back the time i spent on here for anything. i am very thankful to ghost for helping me find like-minded people who are just really awesome friends.
unfortunately, i do not foresee myself coming back here and being active like i used to be ever again. and that's okay. we all have to do what's best for ourselves here. but just be wary. set up those boundaries if you need them.
take care of yourselves here, friends.
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darylsfavoritegirl · 10 months ago
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my first fanfic here... feel free to correct my mistakes or you can just say what i can do more for these to be better!
Summary: This takes place in season 4, prison era (my personal favorite) there is this new girl which Rick and Daryl have taken into prison as a survivor but Daryl can't really stand her and dang a broken fence cuts her upper front thigh (rectus femories to be exact I had to examine an anatomy pic for this one😭) and Daryl has to clean it!! But our girl has surgery scars from when she was a kid. It catches Daryl's attention. Idk I'm making it quite obvious that I'm such an amateur in this. It's a first person narration fanfic
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I was lying on my bed under the dim light of a kerosene oil lamp Maggie had given me earlier that day. I was sighing deeply now and then, getting more and more bored with each passing second. Having to put a stupidly looking smile on my face everytime someone would pass infront of my cell. I could feel my hands feeling more and more sweaty in the humid of Georgia summer, yet I kept them crossed on my lap.
I was stupid enough to not check my surrondings when I was aimlessly walking into the gates of the prison after a run I was sent to with a couple of others in the camp. A fence cut the upper front of my thigh, not deep enough to leave me all screaming and whining, I thought. I let out a small soft moan at the pain of it, but I was the last one to pass through the gates. Nobody saw it bleeding. I covered it with the hems of my shorts, my shorts immediatly being colored with my blood. I ran into my cell and tried to bandage it incompetently, which horribly failed.
Carol was the first one to notice how terrible my wound was looking.
"It can get infected" she said with a warm, cautious temper.
"If not cleaned and bandaged properly."
I couldn't help but gasp a little bit at the idea of my wound getting infected in the middle of the apocalpyse. I went through worse wounds than this, except I always had someone to take care of them for me before. I couldn't bear the idea of the others thinking I was dumb enough to get my wound infected within my first week with them.
Carol, Maggie even Hershell have been my saviors so far, cleaning the wound. I could walk, I wasn't handicapped in any aspect but I didn't know how to clean it myself neither.
But there I was, lying in gloom and distress worrying about who was going to be cleaning my wound and I'd have to share a couple of odd minutes with them, both of us trying our hardest to come up with something to say for a small talk.
Carol showed up with necessary utensils on her hands. She had that welcoming, warm and even pleasant smile on her face. I smiled back.
She started lying out the stuff she brought on the nighstand next to my bed.
"Your wound is getting a lot better." She said without looking at me.
"Next time, you get injured; you let us know."
"I will." I said with a subtle undertone of guilt and a mix of apprecation in my voice.
She gestured her body towards the cell door as if she was gonna leave. Before I could even open my mouth, she spoke "Mind Daryl cleaning your wound tonight? I'm needed somewhere else."
By the gestures on her face, the way she said those words I knew Daryl have had to say something about me to this woman, which obviously wasn't all positive. It wasn't a secret that he didn't necessarily love me but I was the one that needed some kind of a simple procedure. I wasn't gonna act like a child, whining and requesting someone else. I simply nodded and waited for this dreadful man to come and do what he was asked for.
Minutes passed like years when he finally showed up at the cell door, looking a bit pissed and constrained. It was obvious he was never asked to do these kind of stuff. He was an important man around; going on runs, finding supplies, the act of service type of guy; working only for the good of his people. He seemed, though, a little bit bewildered as if he had no idea what or how he was going to clean my wound.
He stepped into the cell. I curled the ends of my shorts without him having to ask for it. He checked the utensils Carol laid out on the nighstand minutes ago. He, once again looked bewildered, incompetent. He grabbed some of the utensils on the nightstand, drew the half broken stool to himself and sat on it. He laid some of the stuff on the edge of the bed as he gestured his hands to the blood soaked bandage. Before he could even move his hands towards it, I spoke "I got it."
A soft moan of pain escaped my mouth as I was taking off the bandage, throwing it right into the trash after.
I heard him taking a deep breath and mumbling under his breath
"Shoulda spilled earlier, wouldn't hurt this damn much now."
I frowned at him before starting to study my wound.
"Carol said it's getting better." I said softly, my tone just above a whisper. I didn't feel any energy to spend on talking to this man. He gazed at my wound couple of seconds before grunting "It is."
He took a grey cloth that somehow looked like a deformed gauzed pad out of an aid kit. He poured some kind of alcohol-based liquid on the cloth. He looked at me for a brief moment before speaking under his breath
" 'S ma' hurt. "
"It's fine." I spoke. The alcohol really stings on the bare wound but there was nothing I could do. I bite the inside of my cheek as he started cleaning my wound. It was hurting like hell but I didn't want to whine and come off as "weak" to him. I was worried that I would cause the inside of my cheek to bleed because of how hard I was biting it and how often I have had to start doing it.
I look at him for a brief moment. He couldn't see me looking at him as he leaned forward so that he'd make a better job at cleaning my wound. I could see his bangs falling on his eyebrows and sometimes getting into his eyes which he'd swing his head slightly to get them out of his eye corners. He looked really focused, not talking at all. The others did; asking me where I come from, what I did before all this. It would all be omnious small talks, which I regret thinking they ever were because what this was felt more infuriating.
I kept on staring at him or looking at random places now and then for 30-40 seconds when I noticed him scowling at something he saw on my leg. His expression faded away within 2 or 3 seconds perhaps, I followed his gaze and saw his finger curling the hem of my short a bit more upwards than I did because he needed more space to work on my wound. There they were, the scars from the surgeries I had as a kid. I knew he wasn't the type to ask when or why I had those but now my scars had my attention as well as they got his. He was still working on the area and his finger was still on the edge of my shorts so it wouldn't fall on where he was cleaning. I noticed he avoided touching them. I was feeling hotter and more distressed each passing second. I assumed questions were pondering his head because my scars were relatively long scars. At the end, I decided to speak. I cleared my throat lightly. Somebody had to end this awkwardness.
"Surgery scars." I spoke
"I had 'em when I was 5 and 6."
Our gazes met, he seemed as if he was contemplating whether or not to stay silent. His blue eyes were almost piercing and I couldn't help but feel hotter than I felt before. I felt his hand falling on my upper leg lightly.
" 'S fine. "
That was it. That's all he had to stay. He broke the eye contact immediatly after. He went back to getting the job done with my wound.
"Ever thought 'bout gettin' 'em removed?" He grunted.
"No. Never." I huffed under my breath. I sensed that he asked this question only to make conversation and break the oddity wall that was getting thicker every passing second.
"Hmmm." He expressed and kept working on my wound.
"Can't get them removed even if I want to now, can I?"
I spoke with the intention to talk to him more.
" 'S possible if ya can bear the pain." He said I might be wrong but I saw the curl of his lips going upward. It was the first time I saw this man smirk even a little. He got up from the stool, that tiny mischievous snigger was still on his face as my eyes followed his every little move. I was mesmerised as if he has just cast a spell on me. I had a stupid smirk on my face, of course it was subtle to an extent which wouldn't freak him out. I probably smiled for the first time with him ever since I've met him. He placed the tools on the nighstand and turned to me.
"Yea should be al' good if yea keep an eye on yerself a bit."
I nodded. He didn't expect me to say anything and made his way to the cell door.
I got up, sat on the edge of the bed; looking at the fresh bandage he just wrapped around my upper leg. I sighed as I looked at the high narrow window on the wall.
FOOTNOTE
Ok yall that was it. I actually loveeedd writing this eventho we don't get much of a daryl content but idk this is my first time writing in english (as in fanfic, yes i have written in my mother tongue when i was in like middle school.... a guess a writer is always a writer😈😈👿👿😭😭 -corny as fuck) and i feel like writing daryl can get quite out of character for two reasons, first being he's never had a s/o in twd where it was obvious they were dating and we havent seen any "boyfriend" or "flirty daryl" and this man only grew more and more silent each passing episode and season so.....
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storiesbyjes2g · 4 months ago
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3.147 Gall, audacity, gumption
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A few hours after I got home, Less called me, and my heart stopped. Was this what life would become? Me being afraid to answer the phone every time my sister called? I hated that period of my life. Anyway, I got over myself and answered the phone. Her voice was venomous, and every word she spoke felt like an assault on my eardrums. Apparently Jace had come over to talk, and man did she let him have it. She didn't even let him in the house and served him up on the porch in front of the entire neighborhood. I was so proud of her because she stood on business. Strong women often fell victim to their emotions when it came to the men they loved, and all too often, they found themselves repeating the very mistakes they vowed to avoid. I didn't think Less would go soft and let him back into their lives, but I was glad to hear I was right.
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This fool called himself trying to explain and had the audacity to act like the victim! After hearing his sob story, one might think HE was the one who carried THREE babies for a week, delivered them, and took care of them by himself. That little shit!! If I thought Less was angry before, that just revved her up even more. She pulled no punches and sliced and diced, talked about the man's family, and everything under the sun. But nothing she said, no matter how harsh, would change his mind or their situation. He didn't come to get her back, and she didn't want him back. She was tired of yelling into the void, and her emotional cup was already full before he arrived. She didn't have anymore fight left in her and made it painstakingly clear she wanted nothing to do with him. But if he grew up and wanted to be a man who took care of his children, they could talk. In the meantime, she fully expected child support.
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That, of all things, riled him up. Not her saying his mother was a llama, or he had weak woohoo game. Parting with his precious simoleons for children HE created upset him the most. He tried to argue her down, saying she knew how his employment was set up and how he didn't make a consistent income. Paying child support for THREE babies would bankrupt him. This fool had the gall to try to guilt her into not going there, trying to appeal to her good nature or whatever. Unluckily for him, Less' good nature was very small, and she told him he should have thought about that before he ran off to another country and married another woman.
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That's when the begging started. He apologized every which way. He even apologized for stuff she didn't accuse him of, and I laughed so hard. When he saw she would not be moved, he hit her with the "I still love you" bull, hoping that would be the key. Admittedly, that one almost got her, especially when he began to cry. She would never say it to him, but she still loved him too. Of course she did. Dad always said love doesn't just go away. She said she felt stupid for still being in love with him, but I told her not to expect so much from herself because it would take time. She wasn't wrong for still having feelings for him. But my girl knew crocodile tears when she saw them and sent him packing.
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She said she wished she would have punched him. It would have made her feel better, but it didn't feel like the right moment. But if he ever stepped to her again with that woe is me bullshit, she would not hesitate to let him have it. Hopefully, he knew how serious she was and didn't mess around and find out. I felt for her and had only realized just then that she was mourning both our dad and her relationship. I made the mistake of thinking she didn't really care about him because she'd never been in love before and their relationship began so quickly. I figured what Less felt was just those initial strong feelings Mama said were easily confused with love. But she did love him, and now she lost him. She didn't deserve any of that, and I just wanted to hug her.
I really hoped she would be open to moving to San Sequoia, whether she took Dad's house or we moved into a duplex. Our lives were way too busy, and it would be easy for us to get wrapped up in our children's affairs and drift apart. At least if we were neighbors would we see each other from time to time.
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emberfrostlovesloki · 10 months ago
Text
Ultracrepidarian [Spencer x Reader]
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Photo credits: Left (@virginmary2008) Center (@reidobsessed) Right (@quillnote)
Prompt: When the BAU-reader nearly faints while giving a lecture to the NAT trainees, Spencer finally can’t hold back how he really feels about her as he drives her home. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: hurt/angst/comfort
Word Count: 15K
Content Warnings: Light drinking, canon typical violence (unsub kills via acid [description of bodies after death] mention of bodies being cut into), the threat of violence [reader and Spencer]  and physical assault [reader and a random woman], drugging [reader], ERs, broken bones, language, and prolonged pain. If I missed any, please let me know. 
A/N: Good evening, loves! It’s the first fic of January and it’s with the cutest, Spencer! I’ve had this idea since I learned the word ultracrepidarian, and I could totally see him saying it to someone. This is a slow burn until the very end. I tried my best to build up the suspense and tension between the reader and Reid, and I hope you enjoy the payout at the end. As always, thank you to my lovely readers who interact with my work. I hope the new year is treating you well. If you do enjoy this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Have a great rest of your week! Love Levi - ❤️
List wil all stories 
_y/n_ = your name 
_c/t_ = coffee or tea 
_y/l/n_ = your last name 
_y/c/y_’s = your color eyes 
__y/f/f/f_ = your favorite fast food 
_y/f/f/g/m_ = your favorite feel good movie 
_y/l/p_ = your local pharmacy 
“Ultracrepidarian,” Spencer said aloud while looking over the draft of the lecture _y/n_ was due to give tomorrow to the fresh batch of N.A.T. trainees. Agent _y/l/n_ looked up and said, “My lecture is what now?” _y/n_ had never heard the word before in her life. She wasn’t sure she could even say it right if it was written on paper. Spencer looked up from his notes and repeated, “Ultracrepidarian. What I’m trying to say is that you’re trying to sound smart, but I don’t think it’s helping your point.” _y/n_ sighed and said, “I am trying to sound smart. That’s the point. Why would two hundred new agents just coming back from their holiday break want to listen to me talk about how to do their case exercises? Derek was supposed to be the one giving this lecture anyway. Why’d he ask me and not Hotch or you? I’m so new to this I feel like I was just in those trainings myself.” Hotch, who had overheard the conversation as he was passing up to his office offered, “Morgan asked you because he saw you as the best fit for the job. If he’d wanted me or Spencer, he would have asked, but he asked you for a reason, _y/n_. You’ll do a fine job.” Aaron’s words of affirmation sent a moment of comfort _y/n_’s way, but the copious annotations Reid was making on her draft had her stomach tighten again. Three days prior, during one of the long, boring paperwork-filled days in the office, Morgan had gotten a call at his desk. He’d looked at the phone with a serious expression before picking up and walking outside of the bullpen just as he left, _y/n_ had heard him say, “What is it, Sarah?” A half-hour later, he’d come back in the room looking even more serious than before. The strong agent moved to the stairs and took them three at a time before stopping at Hotch’s door. The man knocked once and then entered the glowing office. There had been another half-hour conversation before Morgan appeared again. This time he moved and found Spencer and Emily. They chatted in hushed whispers for a few seconds before getting the important stuff on his desk and then heading out the door and toward the elevator. _y/n_ watched all of this with veiled interest. She knew that there was an unstated rule about profiling each other, and she was so new to the team that she didn’t want to make assumptions about what was going on. 
_y/n_ didn’t have to wait long as she caught Emily speaking with Penelope in the breakroom as they were grabbing their lunches from the fridge. _y/n_ overheard a snippet of the conversation, “Yeah, it sounded serious this time. Especially if he has to fly up there. I hope it turns out okay.” _y/n_, who was preparing some _c/t_ was about to ask if she could join the conversation, but was cut off by JJ, who popped her head in the room, and said, “Hotch just called us to the conference room. New case.” Just after JJ finished speaking, the timer on the microwave dinged. Emily let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Why is there always a new case when my food is finished? Can’t these unsubs wait a half hour?” That had everyone in the room chuckle, and as Garcia and Prentiss moved their food back into the fridge, the trio of agents moved up the stairs, the liaison stated, “Given how gross this case is, Emily, I think you’ll thank Aaron for not giving you the time to eat before you see the photos.” That had everyone sober as they moved into the conference room. The team sat while Aaron and JJ set up. Hotch spoke first, and he addressed that someone important was missing. The leader of the BAU cleared his throat and said, “As most of you know, Derek won’t be joining us for this case. He had something personal come up in Chicago, and I’m not sure when he’ll be coming back. However, I have confidence that we can work as efficiently as we always do, even if a member isn’t here.” Everyone nodded. Each of them knew that things happened. They had with Gideon at the end of last year. That had been a difficult transition for all of them. But with Rossi returning to the BAU, things had settled. There was more of a reassurance with Morgan. He was coming back. With Gideon, it had been like waiting for the other show to drop. And when it had, it wasn’t pretty. Aaron began jumping into the specifics of the case, with JJ adding details about the four victims so far. The college-age men and women who had been killed were unrecognizable. The use of hydrochloric acid via syringe into the carotid artery was a terrible, terrible way to die. The tissue and skin had been eaten away by the acid, exposing gaping holes in the bodies of the deceased. There also seemed to be signs of assault on the bodies that proceeded the killings. Lastly, The slogan for Yale, which all of the victims attended, was carved into their backs and read “Lux et Veritas.” If one thing was for sure, this was a crime of passion, and whoever or whatever was getting in the way of the killer ended up looking less human and more like an over-the-top dummy from a James Wan horror film. Unsettled, JJ gave the rest of the brief and told them they could find more in their files. After a few minutes of silent reading, Hotch said, as he always did, “Wheels up in thirty. We don’t know what’s causing the unsub to strike, but they’re organized, so the quicker we get to Connecticut, the sooner we can ensure it doesn’t happen again. 
On the plane, Spencer drank his supersaturated sugar-filled coffee next to _y/n_. He kept bouncing his knee up and down in a way that _y/n_ understood to be excitement. Of course, no one on the team would voice that thought, but bizarre cases brought a set of challenges that others didn’t. They forced the team to think on their feet and move on instinct. _y/n_ looked over the Spence, realizing he was bottling up energy that he usually didn't at the start of cases. _y/n_ then understood that it was the absence of Derek that had caused the change. Normally Spence and his best friend would be bantering and tossing ideas between them. Morgan would tease Reid for the size and scope of this knowledge. _y/n_ missed the animated talking, so she initiated it herself, asking, “So, why hydrochloric acid? Is that stuff easy to get your hands on? And why all Yale students? There has got to be a connection between them, right?” This offering had Spencer off to the races, with his first comment being, “Buying that kind of acid isn’t as hard as you think. And, if you're a chemistry student or in the hard sciences, you might work with it weekly. As for the student connection, it’s possible, but there might be lots of other factors that we don’t know yet. Maybe they were in the same cohort during orientation, or maybe the unsub picked them at random. The threads tying this all together seem disparate. I hope once we’re on campus and I’ve seen a crime scene, I’ll have a better idea.” _y/n_ nodded along. Just hearing Spencer hypothesize felt special. Spencer was the closest to _y/n_ in age, and they’d bonded over that early on. _y/n_ respected everyone else on the team a great deal, but with Reid, she felt like she could relax. She wouldn’t be judged for being young or relatively naivete in this job. She always looked to him for advice. They’d slowly gotten to know each other because they spent the most time together on cases and in the bullpen. Derek had even started teasing Reid about when he was going to ask _y/n_ out. Overhearing that conversation had _y/n_ turn back the way she came in an instant. That didn’t stop Morgan from seeing how flustered _y/n_ was or how flushed Spencer's face had become. As _y/n_ reflected on that moment, she noticed with a small smile, that Reid’s leg had stopped moving. Now that he was in the thick of conversation, with his mouth struggling to keep up with his train of thought, he didn’t need to let out his anxious energy in such a physical way. _y/n_ smiled at the fact, and she leaned in a little closer to try and catch all that her teammate was saying. 
When the jet landed, Hotch made quick introductions to the campus police and then split the BAU into separate groups. Aaron wanted Reid with him as he was the most familiar with the Ivy League system, and he thought it might be helpful while speaking to the President of the university. Meanwhile, _y/n_ and Rossi would check out the first two dorms where the bodies of Charles Talbot and Shauna Mann had been found by roommates who were now in shock. JJ and Emily were going to speak with the UPD for a while longer to see if they could get some useful information out of them before JJ would work on a response for the students, faculty, and staff, and Prentiss went and surveyed the campus. It was near midterms, and although four students were dead and memorials were being held, most of the students didn’t seem to care. They were so absorbed in their studies and tests that the murders seemed to flow off their backs like water on a duck. 
That evening, after an unproductive day, in Spencer’s room, he and _y/n_ looked over the new evidence. _y/n asked him, “Hey, is it that cutthroat in a school like this that the students aren’t worried about what’s happened? Certainly, they must value their lives more than some test?” Reid looked up from his notepad and sighed. He didn’t want to sound annoying, but he knew that _y/n_ listened to him with an understanding that he didn’t get from everyone. His brain and inability to seem to form strong connections often had him feeling left out. Not on the team, or even in his daily life, but he remembered how it had felt to be so isolated and different. In his high school years, he’d cured his brain for its ability, but he also knew it was the only way out of his life. It was half-blessing, half-curse. _y/n_ tipped her head slightly. She could sense him thinking, and it was rare for Spencer to not voice his thoughts. It was so natural for him. However, there was a pause, before Reid said, “I couldn’t tell you _y/n_. College was so easy for me that it just felt like a breeze. But for normal people? I don’t. I don’t know.” _y/n_ felt a tug at this choice of words. “Normal people.” Not that it was condemning them. It was condemning himself as an unnatural person. Agent _y/l/n_ had heard Spencer do this a few times when he was stressed or out of his comfort zone. He’d ostracize himself. Sometimes it took the form of a joke, and other times, it was self-deprecating humor, like when he’d said, “Well, I can recite The Decameron in the original Latin, but I haven’t been on a date in a year, so I guess I’m the lucky one in this situation.” _y/n_ knew that Reid did it to himself as a self-comforting gesture, but some people, even in the office, had almost openly ridiculed his intelligence. It made _y/n_ so angry. Bullying was for high schoolers, not adults. And if the people who had made Reid feel othered only understood what a help he was on cases and to her as a friend, she knew they’d shut the fuck up real quick. _y/n_ looked down at the gory picture in her hand. Softly she said, “We’re all human, Spencer. Even this unsub is human. We just have different abilities, different things we’ve been through.” _y/n_ didn’t want to look up at him. She wasn’t sure it was what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t what Reid had expected, and without even thinking about it, he replied, “At least you’re a human with friends.” 
This had _y/n_ look up with surprise. She hadn’t expected what she thought to be words of comfort to end his him saying something like that. _y/n_ took in Spencer’s expression. Even he seemed shocked or ashamed at letting that inside thought out. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on his crossed knee and said, with as much sincerity as she could muster, “You have friends, Spencer. You have me, Derek, and Garcia. You have the whole team. And what about your chess club? You don’t have to be adrift out there if you don’t want to be.” It was the best she could think of on the spot. As she said it, Spencer seemed to relax. He knew he got in his head. That he kept things in that he shouldn’t, but hearing _y/n_ validate him had him give her a small smile. She was so reassuring to him. Often, he wasn’t sure why. People didn’t generally choose to be in his life, but _y/n_ had gone beyond being just a colleague, and now and then, he felt the tug of what was adjacent to affection and love when he was around her. Spencer hadn’t felt that in a long time, and he shied away from it whenever it bubbled uncomfortably close to the surface. Spencer felt it now in his chest and stomach. He kept it inside like so much else in his life. Instead of addressing his feelings, he said, “I appreciate you reminding me of that _y/n_. You’re a good friend to me.” _y/n_ beamed at him and said, “You got it, Spence. I’ll remind you anytime you need.” Seeing _y/n_’s smile had Reid flushed, and he pulled a victim’s picture in front of him to distract himself. He couldn’t let his feelings get the best of him. Especially not on a case. Thankfully, his strategy worked, and he regained his composure. _y/n_ and he spent most of the night trying and testing theories and possibilities on the other. Even though nothing massive had happened, there seemed to be a shift in the air, pulling them closer together, in unknowable ways. When _y/n_ got back to her motel room, she got a call from Derek. The one where he asked her to speak from him, and _y/n_ said yes because it was a privilege that she didn’t fully understand. Morgan encouraged her and said that she could call him if she needed help. With that, Morgan hung up the phone, leaving _y/n_ excited about the possibility yet nervous at the prospect of speaking to so many people. 
The next day, a new body was found in Harkness Hall. The building was cleared of students, and the team spent the morning looking over the place from top to bottom. None of the students seemed to see anything odd, which could mean that the unsub had to live in the building and come in so late that everyone was asleep on that floor. This time, however, the killer had made an error. They had left traces behind, like hair and some dark flecks of navy paint that looked pretty distinct. It became clear to the team that the unsub was losing control of their anger as this victim, Bobby Ashten, hadn’t been injected with the acid but doused in it instead. There were also traces of formaldehyde in the mix. Why the added substance, no one could say yet. The sight and smell were so bad that the coroner and the police had to step out a few times to stop themselves from vomiting and contaminating the crime scene. It took a long time for the evidence to be bagged and tagged. Halfway through the process, a member of the UPD informed Aaron that the victim’s girlfriend, who was in hysterics, was outside demanding to come in. Hotch sent _y/n_ and JJ to try and calm the girl down and get a statement if it felt appropriate. If not, then get her to a counselor and get her contact information for later. JJ and _y/n_ took a deep breath once they were outside. They stripped their faces of the N-95 masks and latex gloves. They both felt relief from being outside of that room and building. The sun swept over the two agents, as they walked toward the young woman who was still crying. Kitty looked up at the approaching agents. Kitty’s face was streaked with tears. JJ moved forward first and said, “Hey, Ms. Kincade. My name’s Jennifer Jareau. I’m with the FBI. Agent _y/n_ and I are here to see how you’re doing. I’m afraid we can’t let you in to see your boyfriend, but we want to let you know that we’re here for you and that we’re doing everything we can to catch the guy who did this to Bobby.” Kitty sniffled, and her sadness seemed to turn to rage as she said, “It’s not a guy. It’s that crazy ex-girlfriend of Bob’s - Jenni. I told him to stop hanging out with her. She was like five years older than him, and it was gross. I fucking told him, but did he listen to me? No. He never listens to me. I kept inviting her to hangouts and parties and everything, and then, Jen ingratiated herself into his life so much that I couldn’t get her out. I know I shouldn’t have slept with Bobby when he was still dating her, but he was miserable. I thought I was doing him a favor. Look what good it did me. He’s fucking dead now.” Kitty burst into tears again, and JJ moved forward to embrace her. 
As the media liaison hugged the grieving girl, JJ could feel _y/n_ thinking a  mile a minute behind her. J knew that _y/n_ was as quick-witted as Spencer, just not as talkative. After a moment, _y/n_ asked gently, “Did you talk to Bobby every day? Did Jenni talk or text to him?” Kincade nodded and said, “I was always texting him. He never left me unread. That’s why I knew something was wrong last night. He didn’t text back for two hours, and he knows I hated that.” _y/n_ nodded. As cruel as it sounded in a moment like this, Kitty came across as insecure. Her clothing, demeanor, and intonation told _y/n_ that Kitty needed Mr. Drew for support and validation. _y/n_ got it. She’d felt the same way before herself when she was younger. However, the teary-eyed student hadn’t answered her second question, and _y/n_ gently prodded, “And did Jenni talk to Bob a lot? Did you ever feel like she was trying to get back together with him?” The anger was back in _y/n_’s face as she straightened up and out of JJ’s embrace. Kitty clenched her jaw before saying, “Hell yes she did. She texted him almost as much as I did. She acted like she was still his fucking girlfriend and not me. And they saw each other consistently too. They’re both in the nursing program and it’s brutal work. He relied on her to study with. She’s a TA and all so she could help him out. I know I’m not one to judge, I’m just a journalism major, but Bob procrastinated everything and I think he thought he could go to her and get all the answers. I told him not to, but like I said, he never listened to me.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’m sorry to hear that he put you through that, and I’m sorry for your loss.” Kitty nodded, seeming to have calmed down from her hyper-emotional state. _y/n_ just needed to ask two more questions before she could let JJ continue her comfort and tell Kitty everything she needed to know. _y/n_ cleared her throat and said, “Kitty, just a few more things and I’ll let you talk to Ms. Jareau., “First, what’s Jenni’s last name, and do you know where Bobby was before he stopped texting you?” The student seemed to swallow back bile as she said, “Jenni, Jenni Foster. And Bobby was with her. He was supposed to have a big anatomy test today and they both went to the cadaver lab together. I wasn’t cool with it, but Bob promised me he’d be back by midnight.” _y/n_ nodded empathetically and said, “I’m sure he wanted to get back to you, Kitty. I know he would have if he could.” _y/n_ looked over to JJ and the media liaison nodded, knowing that _y/n_ had a lot to relay to the team. With JJ’s gentle nod, _y/n_ walked out past Kitty’s eyesight. Once this was the case, she sprinted back into the building. _y/n_ beeped into the dorm with her temporary ID and rushed to the elevator. As the metal box opened with a ding, _y/n_ pressed for floor fifteen. _y/n_ couldn’t be sure that Jenni Foster was the unsub, but something inside _y/n_ shot a pang of dread through her At least this was another lead if nothing else. Just outside the elevator to the floor of the crime scene. _y/n_ slipped on some latex gloves and a new mask. 
As soon as _y/n_ entered the room Aaron’s eyes turned to her. Through his mask, Hotch asked, “Any leads?” Hotch sounded as desperate as she had felt for an excuse to get out of the newest crime scene. _y/n_ nodded, catching his drift. She replied, “I’ve got a possible unsub, Jenni Foster, and a possible location for the last death.” Hearing this, everyone seemed to relax. It meant a chance to get out of the dorm. Hotch thought for a second and said, “Alright, Emily and I will try and find Ms. Foster, _y/n_ and Spencer, go to the last known location of the victim.” Aaron turned to look at Rossi, trying to give him an option for escape. David had already thought of what he could do and replied, “I can go and inform the president and the chief of the UPD, and I’ll call Garcia to see what she can dig up on Foster.” Hotch nodded and said, “Alright. Hopefully, this will give us some much-needed answers.” The team rode the elevator down to the ground floor. Aaron and Em moved toward the parked SUV in one of the reserved faculty spots, and Spencer asked, “Fill me in on what Kitty said.” _y/n_ took his elbow, as Reid tried to move up campus and not toward the School of Medicine. Spencer followed her lead, realizing he had no idea where they were headed. As the duo descended the stairs, _y/n_ replied, “Kitty said that Bobby had an ex-girlfriend who might have taken things to a bit of an extreme. Apparently, they were both in the nursing program and Bobby relied a lot on her for help even after she’d broken up with him.” Hearing this, Spencer cringed. He might not be the best at reading emotions, but he knew that was a no-go. Reid looked over at _y/n_, as they moved toward the south side of campus. He asked, “Are we sure, Kitty’s not the person we’re looking for?” _y/n_ shook her head and said, “It’s always a possibility, but she seemed pretty dependent on Bobby. I don’t know why she’d want to kill him. He cheated on Jenni with her and then left Jenni for Kitty. That’s why I think it’s Ms. Foster. We were saying that this was a crime of passion. What’s more passionate than a cheating boyfriend? Plus, Jenni and Bobby were in the cadaver lab last night, allegedly studying for a test. It feels like a little too much of a coincidence for it to just be nothing.” Spence nodded in agreement. Now that he knew where they were headed, he said, “You know we’re all susceptible to crimes of passion. Fifteen percent more than other crimes. Factor in the young age of college students brains not being fully developed, I’m surprised that we don’t see more issues on college campuses.” _y/n_ stopped Reid as he reached for the door and said, “Should we get UPD to come with us? What if Jenni’s here and does something drastic?” Reid pondered the question and said, “I doubt she’d go back to the scene so soon. We don’t even know if this is the scene. It’s a big plot point in mystery novels that killers go back to the site because no one would expect that, but it rarely happens. Generally, criminals are too concerned that they’ll be found or act strangely and then be suspected. Let’s just be on the lookout.” _y/n_ nodded and they moved into the building that held the cadavers of the Yale School of Medicine. 
Inside the cool, sleek building, _y/n_ and Spencer went up to the department office and flashed their badges. The student worker grabbed the head of the department. After a minute of waiting in the office, a sharply dressed woman came out, shook both of their hands and said, “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Peters, Dean of Yale Medical School.” The woman extended a hand to both agents and ushered them into her office. Nobody sat and there was an air of tension in the room. Spencer took the lead on the conversation as the agent with the most experience. Reid stated, “If we can, Agent _y//l/n_ and I would like to see the cadaver lab. We have reason to believe that it might have been the last known location of Bobby Ashten. We understand that he was a student of the program.” When the words registered, Dr. Peter’s face shifted from one of discomfort to anger. She stated, “Well I’m sure that’s not possible. All of our students are highly vetted before entry into the program.” Reid and _y/n_ noticed the shift in tone and Spencer said, “It’s possible that it’s not a student on the school that ended up attacking Mr. Ashten, we just got a tip that his last known location was the cadaver lab last night. Could you tell us who has access to that space?” Peters seemed to calm slightly as Spencer noted that the unsub might not be a part of the department. _y/n_ gave him a little nod at de-escalating the situation. After a brief silence, the dean replied, “Access to that lab is granted to instructors and TAs only. The bodies are taken out for class demonstrations. There’s a sign-in sheet at the door on the third floor. Those who deal with the bodies have special qualifications. If someone did allow a student in there it would be highly unethical.” Now _y/n_ jumped in and said, “Yes, it would be. Dr. Reid and I are just trying to be thorough and precise like the department has to be with its students and protocols. I know you’d rather have this looked at and cleared up now instead of waiting till later in the year.” Peters nodded with some hesitation and said, “Fine, take a look at the lab. I’ll send a TA down to let you in, just follow their instructions to a tee.” Both Spencer and _y/n_ nodded in agreement. Dr. Peters called for a TA to wait by the cadaver lab. After this, she ushered them back into the main office and told the student worker behind the desk, “Please escort our guests to Lab 308. Answer any questions they might have.” Just as the trio was about to leave, Peters said, “And Agents, if you should need any help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask me personally.” The Spencer and _y/n_  thanked her and shook her hand before being led out by the student worker. 
Neither agent spoke much as they made their way to the third-floor lab. The student worker seemed to be giving an informal tour like she had been told to show off the department and its most prestigious alumni and features. To not make it awkward for the woman, _y/n_ or Spencer would comment or ask a relevant question to fill in the silence. Finally, they made it to the third floor and lab 308. The student halted and said, “This is Barry Whitehouse, one of our second-year TAs. He’ll let you into the lab and tell you all of the protocols.” With that, the young woman walked with urgency away from the group. _y/n_ looked at Spencer for a second, and they had a silent conversation. They both knew they were being watched and monitored. _y/n_ took the lead on this conversation, as the TA was looking at her with an expression that said he liked what he saw. Even though it made her skin crawl, _y/n_ extended a hand, saying, “Agent _y/n_. It’s nice to meet you.” _y/n_ even went as far as moving her free hand to flip her jacket to the side so Barry could see her badge. The man’s eyes were wide with awe like he’d stumbled across the fountain of youth and not some newbie FBI agent. _y/n_ had to stop herself from laughing. She hid the sound as a cough and quickly pulled her hand back from Mr. Whitehouse’s. _y/n_ pointed to Spencer and said, “And this is my partner, Dr. Reid.” Spence raised a hand in a half gesture of welcome. Barry frowned back at him. Sensing the tension, _y/n_ diverted the attention back to herself. In a voice laced with faux honey, she said, “So, we kinda need to get in the lab. Can you tell us what we need to know before going in there?” Barry’s attention snapped back to her, and he said, “Oh, yeah,” like he’d forgotten why he’d been called down from his office in the first place. The man cleared his throat and said, “Well it’s pretty basic stuff, wear gloves at all times, keep your hair back. You can pull the bodies out unless there’s red tape on the handle of the gurney. Looking is fine, but in no way are you to touch the bodies. No photography of any kind unless you have a warrant and lastly, you both need to sign the log at the door.” _y/n_ sent him another fake smile and led Spencer to the door before Barry could say anything else. She tossed gloves at Spencer while she signed the logbook. _y/n_ pulled her gloves over her hands and stepped into the lab after Reid. Barry seemed too shocked to state that he should go in with them to make sure they followed the department's standard procedure. 
Inside the sterile lab where the dead mingled with the living, _y/n_ and Spencer both slumped back against the wall. It felt like hours since they had been alone to just talk and run ideas around like they normally did on a crime scene. They both took a moment to compose themselves while they looked around the space. _y/n_ looked at the dead bodies and said, “Dr. Peters was so passive-aggressive. Good job on talking her down. What was that with he offering to help us at the end?” Spencer who was looking in the cabinets and drawers said, “It's all about funding and reputation at these schools. She was probably offended at the insinuation that something like what happened to Bobby did in her department, but in the end, it would look even worse if she seemed to be interfering in the investigation. Thus the change in tone.” Spencer took a breath and said, “And good on you for distracting Mr. TA out there.” For some reason _y/n_ heard a hint of jealousy in Reid’s words, but she didn’t read into it. Instead, she just said, “That was light work. I have a way of getting people flustered no matter what I do. But I think we won’t be alone for long. Barry will probably be in here in a minute or two.” Spencer bit his lip, as he looked around for a second and stated, “I don’t think we’ll find anything here.” _y/n_ looked at him dumbfounded and asked, “Why? We’ve only been in here for a few minutes and Jenni’s name was on the log outside. She was the last person in here.” Spencer’s sharp eyes caught _y/n_’s and he said, “Well, they might have been in here, but not for long. For one there’s no blue paint on any of these walls, and we found that on the body. And secondly,” Spence paused as if for dramatic effect, “There’s no formaldehyde. There is hydrochloric acid in the cabinets, but why keep the two separate if they were found together on Bobby?” _y/n_ pondered the puzzle and said, “It doesn’t make any sense. Not with the paint and the chemicals. This building is brand spanking new. The student worker told us.” Spencer nodded and said, “Exactly, and a brand new building means an old abandoned one as well.” As _y/n_ looked at Reid, he had the excited look of having a new idea look on his face. When he held the door open for _y/n_, she didn’t question his logic. She didn’t have time to try and read him as he followed after her out the door. 
Barry looked startled at their sudden reappearance. Reid approached the man and said, “Do you have a key to the old medical building down the hill and across the street? The one that’s set to be demolished at the end of the term?” The TA mumbled, “Well yes, but no one goes in there but staff now. There’s still some stuff that needs to be transferred over to this building. That place is a dump, really. It should be torn down.” Spencer nodded along and said, “Can I borrow your key? Just for an hour, I swear it could be important to the investigation. Don’t you want to help stop what’s been happening on campus?” Mr. Whitehouse looked uncertain and then moved his half-scared eyes to _y/n_’s _y/c/y/_’s ones. _y/n_ gave him a reassuring smile and the man took off his lanyard from his neck. Barry unclipped an old-looking key from his carabiner and instead of handing it to Spencer, brushed past the genius and placed it in _y/n_’s outstretched palm instead. _y/n_ thanked him, and as she moved to leave the new shiny building, she said, “Thanks, Barry. Hey, say, where’s the cadaver lab in the old building?” The TA replied softly, “The basement I think, G02.” Before the man could get another word in edgewise, _y/n_ and Spencer were darting out of the building and down the hill toward the old side of campus. As they half-jogged toward the new space with anticipation, _y/n_ asked, “How did you know about the old building? It wasn’t on any maps of campus that I saw.” Spencer replied as they moved across a busy street, “I noticed it in the newsletter outside yesterday when I was looking around. Something about an old building on campus being demolished soon. So I asked Garcia about it and she sent me the information. As soon as I heard it was the old school of medicine it piqued my interest.” _y/n_ looked at him bewildered with how smart Dr. Reid was. However, she didn’t have time to comment on it as she reached the door of the dilapidated building that was soon to be torn down. The outside facade read: Yale School of Medicine” in fading letters. From the outside, it looked like there was no working electricity inside. The thought of going in there sent a cold chill up her spine. Spencer seemed ready to go, and _y/n_ handed him the key saying, “I’m just going to shoot The team a text letting him know where we are. I don’t trust that texts will get out once we’re in there.” Reid nodded and replied, “Good idea,” as he slipped the key into the lock. _y/n_ shot off the message as she followed Spence’s hurried steps inside. Once the door was closed behind them, _y/n_ felt like the world had closed off behind her. The air was stale and foul. Even just a few steps from the door the light seemed to fade dimmer and dimmer. Spencer stopped at a directory and emergency map of the building's layout. _y/n_ flashed her phone’s flashlight on the map and Spence traced the path to the old cadaver lab in the basement. 
The idea of going into the bowels of the building had _y/n_ on edge, but she wasn’t going to let Spencer go alone. Reid looked at her and swallowed. _y/n_ could see he was nervous too and said, “Keep on the lookout.” With that, as if to still his fear, Spencer moved to the end of the long hallway and down the stairs to the basement level of the building. They both had their phone flashlights out trying to light the gloomy space. The silence and darkness was oppressive. Neither _y/n_ nor Reid wanted to talk as they pierced the dark. Even small sounds of the air conditioning or mice in the air vents had both of the agents spooked. _y/n_ remembered how the pictures of the bodies reminded her of a horror movie, and this was no different. She didn’t want to think of dying in a place like this. It was too awful to imagine. Although the building wasn’t that old, the bottom floor seemed more disused and old than the first floor. It felt like something out of a bad dream. The floors were dusty and the paint was peeling from humidity that had probably sprouted mold. Slowly they made it to the old lab. The door opened with a terrible squeak, letting anyone in the basement know that they were there. Unfortunately for them, the person whom Spencer hadn’t expected to see was waiting for them on the other side of the door. Just as Reid stepped into the tomb-like room, he was hit on the head with a metal tray. The lean agent stumbled back into _y/n_ who dropped her phone. Right as Spence moaned in pain, a set of strong hands pushed _y/n_ back into the far wall. _y/n_ clawed at her assailant, but it did no good, she got the same metal tray to the head that had incapacitated Spencer. The feeling of a cold needle inserted into _y/n_’s arm stilled her movements entirely. 
_y/n_ woke up to her head spinning. There was a light bulb somewhere above her, but it seemed to be swimming in the air. Its apparent swinging motion made _y/n_ feel sick to her stomach. Everything seemed so bright and dark at the same time. _y/n_ bit back any painful sound or bile from rising in her mouth. After a few minutes, _y/n_ could see more clearly. _y/n_ assessed the situation and realized that she was strapped to a metal chair. Her arms and legs were strapped to her sides and legs to that of the chairs' metal legs. _y/n_ lolled her head to the side and noticed Spencer similarly strapped to a metal table. His arms and legs were held tight by restraints. His shirt had been removed and _y/n_ wanted to look away to respect his privacy. _y/n_ also wanted to ask if he was okay. If anything had happened to him yet. _y/n_’s desire was cut short as a young woman moved into the stark space. _y/n_ now noticed the chipping navy paint, and she realized that this must be where the murders had taken place. _y/n_ took a breath and the woman standing in front of them said, “You’re finally awake. Good. I took your badges and guns. You won’t need them now. When I’m finished with you both you won’t be recognizable anyway. Did you think you were going to catch me down here? On my turf?” Jenni sounded cocky like she had her system down to a T. Spencer took a labored breath and said, “What, what do you plan on doing with us?” There was just a hint of fear in his voice. _y/n_ understood it. He was the one strapped up and disrobed, not her. Jenni gave a cold laugh and said, “I’m gonna cut you up of course. Put the motto of this fucking school on your back and then show that bitch Kitty just how wrong she is by making you as fucking ugly as that bastard you left me for a good-for-nothing whore in sophomore year. I gave him everything. And how does he repay me? By cheating on a dumb blonde that can’t even pass a biology test.” The weight of Jenni’s delusion and obsessiveness sat with _y/n_ as she watched the woman pull a glinting scalpel from a rotten drawer in the room and approach Spencer. It seemed she transferred her anger at being cheated onto her victims. And they were her latest. For one moment _y/n_ wanted to thrash and scream and close her eyes to everything around her. This didn’t feel fair. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for when she joined the BAU. It felt like being pushed into the lockers in high school for something she hadn’t done. And then it clicked. All of this, was so, so very high school, and if she could lean into that, maybe, just maybe she could buy time. Without even thinking, _y/n_ said, “Are you really so insecure that you had to kill other people too? Why not just Bobby and Kitty? They were the ones that fucked you over, right?” _y/n_’s statement had Jenni turn on her heel. A rage filled her face, turning it red as she retorted, “Well that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it? I could just kill them, but watching them suffer was so much better. I got rid of Bobby’s friends first, and he came crawling to me for support, not his little bitch. He never knew until it was too late, bless him. Then seeing Kitty’s face this morning when she found out he was dead, I could have framed it and put it on my mantle. I might still actually.” There was s tense silence before Jenni said, “But you’re just trying to distract me. I’m going to do your friend's first agent _y/l/n_ and then I’m going to do you, and I’ll make you watch just so you know what’s going to happen to you in a few minutes.” _y/n_ struggled against the zip ties that were holding her down, as she attempted to think of anything to stop Jenni from carving into the skin of Spencer’s back. Jenni started saying, “Lux et Veritas” over and over again as if steeling herself for what she was about to do. “This is about spite and insecurity,” _y/n_’s brain whispered to her. And did _y/n_ know a thing or two about insecurity? 
The words came unbidden, and _y/n_ said, “You know for a killer you’re really stupid. Dr. Reid didn’t go to Yale, he went to Stanford. But I guess you didn’t do your research huh Like you didn’t notice those bottles of formaldehyde over on the counter over there. So unless you’re ready to cut Die Luft der Freiheit Weht into Dr. Reid here, I think you’re shit out of luck. Just like you were in getting Bobby back..” Those words had the effect _y/n_ wanted on Jenni, but the outpouring of anger streaming from the woman with the knife left _y/n_ speechless for a moment as Jenni turned to face her. The unsub said, “Look at you fucking smart ass. What if I fixed your face before I end your partner? I could cut out your tongue and you wouldn’t be able to make any more smart quips. I bet you were always the center of attention. Well, no one will look at or hear you when I’m done. Of course, I’m saying that hypothetically. You’ll both be dead when I’m finished with you.” Jenni swiped the knife right in front of _y/n_’s face and the agent felt the blade just gash her brow. The wound could have been much, much worse. And _y/n_ expected it to be as Jenni stepped closer and said, “Now hold still and it won’t be so bad for you. I promise. I’ve done this loads of times. Except those were dead people and you’re not. So just act dead for a few minutes.” _y/n_ flinched and closed her eyes. Trying to picture anything that might comfort her and not what was actually happening. Perhaps her plans of distracting Foster from hurting Spencer had worked too well. But as _y/n_ reflected in a split second, _y/n_ realized it would be all worth it if he didn’t get hurt. Dr. Reid had a similar line of thought and said, “You hate cheaters, right Jenni? You don’t care about some girl who makes you feel othered. Your real issue is with people who betray those they claim to love. Well if you’re looking for someone to punish it’s me. I’m that guy. I can’t keep a girlfriend even though I’ve had plenty. They just grow stale to me. I’m never happy. Don’t blame _y/n_ for that. She’s always stood by me as I threw her feelings in her face time and time again.” Reid’s comments threw Jenni for a loop and she kept rocking back and forth not knowing who to get first. Who had done the worst thing in her mind? Even though _y/n_ had gawked at Spence’s statement, she caught on quickly to his strategy. First, he’d never had a girlfriend that she knew about, and second, he’d never, ever told her that he was interested in her, even though she was interested in him. And that was the game. Lie to Jenni, and keep her off balance enough to not let her get to either of them. Thankfully neither of the agents had to come up with more lies as the door to the room burst open. It was Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, plus a few LEOs from the UPD. Jenni was too stunned to move as Dave rushed in and took her hands, pulling them behind her back. Meanwhile, Aaron moved to Spencer to free him of his binds while Emily helped _y/n_ out of her zip ties. _y/n_ felt overwhelmed but rushed to Spence once he was free. She didn’t want to require comfort from him, but she needed it. They had some close to a bad end, and she didn’t even notice that he still hadn’t put his shirt back on yet. She pressed her face to his warm chest which was bare and heaving with the ordeal he had also been through. 
That realization hadn’t hit her until the stark red and blue lights were flashing from an ambulance in the bright light of day. While Hotch explained how he’d had a bad feeling about them going into the building alone. To _y/n_ it didn’t feel right to be outside in the daylight with JJ and Emily standing by her side as the paramedics looked over her and Reid. Nothing seemed to feel right after the cavernous dark that was the old med building. The fact that it was still daylight juxtaposed to the literal and metaphorical dark from before jarred _y/n_ in a way that she hadn’t expected. The medical professionals cleared both Spencer and _y/n_ after giving _y/n_ a bandaid for the cut on her face. 
The flight home felt strange as the team tried to decompress. _y/n_ felt a weight of inadequacy like she’d let things happen to her instead of initiating the action herself. And it had all happened so quickly with Jenni. _y/n_ sat with her thoughts at the back of the plane. Now and then she’d peek a glance at Spencer who was spread out across one of the couches sleeping. Sometimes _y/n_ thought that the jet was the only place she saw him sleep. Most of the time he was like a ball of nervous energy just waiting to be let out somehow. _y/n_ would walk with him on Sunday mornings, and he’d talk about how he’d stayed up all night reading a new ancient text online, or how he’d been the last person at the library just as they closed. And during the week if _y/n_ tossed and turned, she’d call Spence up and ask him what he was doing. Or she’d try and think about the most random question, like how many cows there were in Iowa, or what was the shortest river in Europe, and who decided what was a river and what was a stream. He always had an answer for her silly questions. He would talk long enough that she would fall back asleep with her face pressed into the covers and Reid still talking until he was sure she was asleep. Just once, _y/n_ had thought that Spencer had made up some fact or figure just to fill the quiet space in the night. So she could finally rest. She hadn’t asked him about it after. She knew she was just lucky to have him as a friend. Now as Spencer dreamt and she doubted, it felt weird. _y/n_’s train of thought was interrupted as Rossi sat across from her with a small groan. Dave looked at how tired _y/n_ appeared and said, “What’s eating you, kid?” Rossi’s affectionate nickname always brought a smile to _y/n_’s face and this was no exception, except it slipped quickly after. _y/n_ rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and said, “I don't know Rossi. I didn’t feel like a profiler back there. I felt like a kid. What’s the point of all the training and stuff if you feel too scared when you really should be doing your job?” Dave nodded in understanding and said, “_y/n_, we all freeze. All of us. Don’t think you’re some rare exception to that. But when it came to it, you did act. One doesn’t have to feel like a profiler to profile. Nobody was calling Howard Teten a profiler when he came up with the method we use, and yet he still did it. Profiling is less about fancy words and techniques and more about trusting your gut when things get hairy. And you did just that. You realized that provoking the unsub would distract her from Spencer. And I’m sure Dr. Reid would be happy to tell you that he’s relieved he didn’t leave that situation with a permanent mark of Yale or Stanford’s mottos carved into his back.” That had _y/n_ chuckle and Rossi was happy to see her lighten up a bit. The older man stood and just before he moved to take his seat across from Aaron again, he said, “Remember kid, in the end, we’re all just base instincts. Just things filled with wants and needs No one can fight them, not even Spencer Reid.” Rossi patted her shoulder and left her wide-eyed and speechless. Was Rossi, Rossi hitting on her on Spencer's behalf? _y/n_ had to move to the bathroom to not let anyone see how flustered she was at the soft comment. 
In the small space, _y/n_ splashed cold water on her face. She looked into the mirror at her appearance. She’d hoped that she couldn’t be read that easily. She’d hidden her feelings for Spencer from everyone, especially Reid. If he’d caught on, he hadn’t said anything about it. _y/n_ sent up a prayer that no one else had noticed apart from Rossi. She didn’t have the bandwidth to think about it right now and she couldn’t stay holed up in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. _y/n_ took a deep breath, straightened her _y/f/c_ shirt, and then moved back into the cabin of the plane. When she got back to her seat the wave of exhaustion she had been waiting to hit her for the last hour and a half finally did. As she let sleep take her, she wondered if it was possible that Spencer loved her back. She doubted it. When the jet landed back in Quantico, it was dark and sleeting outside. The winter weather just wasn’t ready to let go yet. It wouldn’t for at least another month. As everyone piled into the bullpen, shaking off the cold, Spencer approached _y/n_ and said, “I’ll drive you home if you're ready.” _y/n_ looked up from her go bag and said, “You don’t have to do that Spence. I can take the tube. My place is in the opposite direction from yours.” Reid rolled his eyes and said, “I know that, _y/n_.” It’s not like he hadn’t driven her home every chance he got without it being too obvious that he had a crush on her. They always had this dance of her saying no but then giving in when he’d just wait around her desk. It wasn’t any different this night. Reid didn’t like the idea of _y/n_ taking a bus, and then a long train ride to her home every night. It wasn’t just the high rate of accidents that happened on public transport and a crumbling infrastructure system, but the people she might see there. Reid wasn’t one for catastrophizing but he just didn’t want _y/n_out there where anything could happen to her. His mind flashed to the case and how Jenni had held the scalpel at _y.n_. ; promising to “fix her.” At that moment in the dark, the last thing he was thinking about was himself. The scene was eating at his insides like acid. It took _y/n_ tapping him on the shoulder and saying, “I’m ready now if the offer’s still valid.” Spencer nodded and they both walked out into the night. 
On the twenty-minute drive back to her place there was silence until Reid asked, “What are you doing once you get home?” _y/n_ looked at him with some surprise. He didn’t normally ask her about what she did outside of work. She assumed he just wasn’t interested, thus why she thought he didn’t have feelings for her. _y/n_ replied, “I don’t know. Probably have _y/f/f/f_ delivered and watch _y/f/f/g/m_. I need a good light-hearted distraction after that case.” She then turned the question on him and said, “How about you?” Spencer flipped on the turn signal and smoothly took his car on the wide turn that led to _y/n_’s street. He stole a glance at her and then back at the road before saying, “Probably do some reading. And I need to call my mom. I do it on the second of every month. I have to call her on even days of the month. She gets angry if I don’t.” Hearing the date had something snap in _y/n_. She muttered, “Oh God, it’s the second already?” Spencer looked at her concerned and said, “_y/n_, what’s the matter?” _y/n_ took her hands from her head and said, “I have that lecture to give in two days for Derek. I completely forgot about it with the case.” The lecture was sounding more and more like a pain, especially now that she would have to write it in just two days. Reid said, “I could stay and help you if you like?” _y/n_ nodded her head no and said, “Thanks Spence, but I’ll figure it out. I just gotta have a cup of c/t_ or an energy drink or something.” Even as the word left her, _y/n_’s heart ached. She wanted Reid’s help so much, needed it. But he looked so tired. More than usual. _y/n_ knew the incident in the lab had shaken him up like it had her, but he was just better at hiding it. Also, _y/n_ felt that if they were couped up in her tiny overpriced studio apartment together she’d do something she’d regret. Something that she wouldn’t ever be able to take back. Rossi’s comment on the plane wasn’t helping her think clearly, and she needed a clear head to write this stupid lecture. _y/n_ didn’t notice the little tug of concern on Spence’s lips as he pulled in front of her building. He just said, “Okay, _y/n_. Well, I’ll give you a ring after I call my mom and see how you’re doing. Okay?” _y/n_ nodded and took her bag from Reid’s hand. She very quickly said goodbye and thanked him, as she almost sprinted out of the car. She was beginning to feel a headache come on and if she stayed a moment longer she would invite him and I’d all be over. She couldn’t sacrifice the great friendship she had built with him for a fling that might not pan out. Holed up in her space, _y/n_ let whatever emotions she had flooded over her and she dropped her bag with a thud and crawled into bed for an hour. It was Spencer’s call that got her up and to work with what she assumed was going to be the worst N.A.T. lecturer of all time. 
_y/n_ had shown up at the office with a persistent headache and a half-shod draft of what she hoped she could shape into a lecture by the end of the day. Five hours after her arrival, Spencer was making comments that she didn’t understand and weren’t exactly encouraging sounding. _y/n_ stood and said, “Alright Spence. Let me see it, you’re not annotating Chaucer after all.” Reid looked up at her, pen still in hand. _y/n_ didn’t sound pleased and he wasn't sure why. He handed her lecture back to her and watched her face contort slightly at what he thought were very helpful notes. _y/n_ let out a breath and sat on the edge of Spence’s desk. His comments might be copious and slightly annoying, but he was still offering to help her which she was grateful for. She’d have to say she was sorry for being so snippy, but she didn’t feel a hundred percent and it was showing in her actions. However, the apology never had a chance to be voiced as Reid’s comments began to swim in front of _y/n_’s eyes, the bright and happy voices of Em, JJ, and Garcia cut through the haze. _y/n_ looked over at the group. Emily said, “We’re getting drinks at the bar down the street. Y’all should come with us. It’s past five and we deserve a drink after that case.” _y/n_ opened her mouth to say no, but Penelope cut her off saying, “All work and no play makes _y/n_ a dull girl. Now, do you want to be a dull girl in front of the NATs tomorrow?” _y/n_ shook her head and let out a laugh at Garcia’s logic. As cliche as it was, _y/n_ couldn’t argue with it. The _y/h/c_ed agent put her hands up in surrender and said, “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” That got a cheer from the group. _y/n_ looked over at Spencer and said, “You coming?” Reid wanted to say no, to just keep working for a while longer, but _y/n_’s strange behavior and the pleading look she was giving him had him cave and agree too. _y/n_ dropped her lecture notes on her desk as she grabbed her purse and left with the group. The five agents drove in Emily’s and JJ’s cars to the strip of bars near the Quantico Field office. As everyone clamored into a booth at the iconic South of DC Bar, Garcia said, “I can’t wait for the weather to get better and for it to be light out later. Winter gives me the ick big time.” Everyone laughed and agreed. A waiter came and got their first round of drinks. _y/n_ wasn’t planning on drinking a lot due to her engagement in the morning and Spencer only got water. He wanted to make sure there was at least one person sober to drive them back if need be. _y/n_ stuck to her plans and just had one other drink which was a shot, paid for by Penelope. Garcia, JJ, and Em had finally gotten _y/n_ and Spencer out together, but the plan to get the two, young, agents together wasn’t working as they hoped. The fact that _y/n_ wasn’t drunk enough to ask how her dating life was going to steer the conversion in that direction. Spencer also seemed to have something on his mind as he sipped his water and didn’t seem that invested in the conversation the group was having. Of course, Em, JJ, and Pen couldn’t know that he was replaying the scene from his car over and over again in his head. He wondered if he’d said something to piss _y/n_ off. She’d been acting differently since they’d arrived home. Reid knew he could be blunt, and come off as uncaring, but last night he’d tried at tenderness, and _y/n_’s response seemed to confirm that she wasn’t interested in him like that. Not like he wanted them to be. 
The evening seemed like a bust, as the group closed out and moved toward their cars. They had to park a few streets over as the bar crowd picked up right after work in the inner city. As the group moved toward their vehicles, the sound of five guys in an alley across the road caught the profilers’ attention. _y/n_ looked through the gloom and noticed the men huddled around a woman who seemed to be very drunk, or even drugged. The sight had a hard pit form in _y/n_’s stomach. Rossi had talked about instinct and desire, and _y/n_ knew the men surrounding the helpless women had a bad desire. Desire was one thing, but when it went bad, it went really bad as evidenced by Jenni. _y/n_ wouldn’t stand it. She wasn’t going to let this just happen to a stranger. Emily had seen the same thing and both agents quickly ran across the road avoiding a car. Prentiss shouted, “Hey. get your hands off her. Back off!” The group of men turned. One smiled with terrible teeth and said, “Look fellows, some girls want to join the fun.” _y/n_ could have spat with anger at being called a girl. She held back her fury and said, “You heard my friend, get the fuck off of her.” The apparent leader of the group said, “Well men. Looks like we have a fighter. Try and make me babe.” The tall man couldn’t have expected to be thrown against the wall and away from the woman he’d been harassing. The leader, snapped up in anger for being manhandled even though that was what he’d just been doing himself. The rage surged in him and he stepped forward. He was significantly taller than _y/n_ and it didn’t take much for him to slam _y/n_ into the wall she had pushed him into. As he gripped _y/n_’s _l/m/s_ hair at the base he growled, “You little whore. I’ll show you what happens when a cunt gets in my way.” The man pressed his body to her’s pinning her to the wall. He then grabbed her head and smashed it into the brick wall. If _y/n_ had thought her head hurt before in the office it didn’t even compare on a scale with what she was feeling now. Everything went black for a second and her body slumped against the wall. 
Spencer watched it all happen before he could do anything because the cars now wouldn’t stop coming. He cringed as _y/n_’s face got bashed into the wall. He watched as Emily moved in to help and pulled the guy away before being hit too. Finally, the cars stopped because of the red light up ahead, and Spencer shouted at JJ, “Call the cops,” as he sprinted across the road and past a stalled car. Reid booked it across the road. When he was a foot from the scene, he used the strongest voice he had to say “Federal Agent, break it up right now.” Spencer channeled Derek and Aaron as much as he could, as he pushed one of the men off Emily. The leader looked up and said, “Yeah, yeah beanpole. Show me a badge and I’ll believe you.” Reid let out a heavy breath, pulled out his badge, and flashed it around to the men who were now moving slowly back into the alley. The group noticed as JJ and Garcia ended up on their side of the street, flashing their badges. The last straw was when Emily got up and showed her badge too. The flashing of police lights had the group scatter like flies. JJ stepped forward and helped the woman who had been harassed up and toward the first police car that arrived while Spencer knelt next to _y/n_ and Emily. _y/n_was stirring back to wakefulness and the pain stunned her into groaning. _y/n_ kept her eyes closed as concerned voices floated above her. The sounds of sirens mostly filled her ears. _y/n_ moved a hand to touch her face which was throbbing with a consistent pain down her nose and cartilage beneath it.  _y/n_’s hand got stopped and that firm yet gentle grip finally had her open her eyes. Spencer was holding her hand and said in a worried voice, “Don’t touch your face, _y/n_. I think your nose is broken. Can you breathe through it at all?” _y/n_ took a tentative breath through it and replied, “I can. It hurts, but I can.” Her voice sounded weak and far away. As _y/n_ came more to her senses, her pain level heightened, and she noticed Emily beside her. Prentiss looked as bad as _y/n_ felt and _y/n_ said, “Em, how are you? You okay?” Prentiss shrugged and said, “I’ve felt better, but I’ll survive. Nothing gives me as much satisfaction as scaring some tough guys off. I just wished it ended without us looking like we fell down five flights of stairs.” Prentiss’s comment had _y/n_ chuckle which was a mistake as it hurt like hell the instant _y/n_  started laughing. _y/n_ looked up as JJ’s familiar shoes approached the group on the ground. JJ bent down next to Spencer and asked, “Should I call an ambulance?” Em cut in and said, “Not for me. I’m not going to spend hours in a hospital only to be given some Benadryl and an exorbitant co-pay. I’m not that bad. If it keeps hurting in the morning I’ll go the the ER.” JJ acknowledged Emily’s point and then looked over to _y/n_. _y/n_ was in pain, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with her apart from her nose. _y/n_ looked from Spencer and then to JJ and said, “I think I’m fine. I can breathe and see straight. Just a bit sore.” Again JJ nodded and said, “Okay, well Hotch is on his way. Garcia called him before we crossed the street and some of the cops went to look for those guys while the others were taking care of the lady we found.” Hearing that Hotch was coming had _y/n_ groan and say, “Hotch is gonna be mad. I shouldn’t have jumped into a scene like that.” Emily chuckled and said, “Well it was pretty impressive, but let me handle him. We’ve all done something like this before. It’s just the first time for you. He’ll have some stern words for you in his office tomorrow, but he’ll understand.” _y/n_ gave a little nod and felt comforted by Emily’s reassurance. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. 
Spencer helped her to her feet after another minute on the cold ground, _y/n_ grunted with the effort, but put on a brave face which was bleeding again. The wound from Jenni had reopened and was oozing blood, along with her nose and a split lip. _y/n_ could taste the iron of her blood as she wiped at her face with her sleeve. _y/n_ leaned heavily on Reid, as she gave a brief statement to the cops and a bit of a longer one to Aaron who had his arms crossed over his chest in a pseudo-disappointed but mainly concerned face. After a half hour, Spencer approached JJ and they had a quiet conversation between them. It ended with JJ handing over her car keys and giving him a pat on the shoulder. _y/n_ was leaning against one of the cop cars, and Spencer approached her with a soft concern. The genius said, “Alright, _y/n_ I’m taking you to the ER.” _y/n_ looked up at him and said, “Can’t you just take me home?” Spence nodded no and replied, “Nope. You don’t have to go to the hospital, but I am having you looked at. If nothing else I need to make sure your nose isn’t broken.” _y/n_ tried a last defense as she said, “But Emily…” Spencer cut her off and said, “Emily is Emily, and Hotch is taking her to the ER too, she just doesn’t know it yet. Now please stop arguing with me, _y/n_.” Whatever _y/n_ was going to say died in her mouth. Spencer’s tone left no room for negotiation. She’d never heard him be so demanding yet comforting at the same time. They walked silently to JJ’s car. Spencer opened the passenger side door for her, before getting in the driver's seat. He turned the key in the ignition and drove toward the nearest clinic. _y/n_ closed her eyes and tried not not sound like she was struggling to breathe or make pained sounds as they drove over speed bumps or potholes. _y/n_ didn’t know if or what to say. She was contemplating how many new things had happened to her this week. How she’d personally been threatened by an unsub, how she’d gotten into another hairy situation this evening. As _y/n_ reflected on the two incidents, she could at least say she had acted decisively on the second occasion. _y/n_ could feel Spencer thinking beside her and she had to ask, “Are you disappointed in me?” _y/n_ didn’t know why she asked, or if she wanted to know the answer, but Spence was her best friend and she didn’t think she could stand not knowing what he was thinking. The heavy silence had _y/n_ squirm in her seat. After another minute and a lot of rewording in Reid’s head, he replied, “I’m not disappointed in you, _y/n_. Just worried. First, there was the case in the lab, and now this. I wish you didn’t jump into things so strongly. But you did the right thing. The brave thing.” Again Spencer was giving her mixed signals. She didn’t know if he was mad at her or proud. Or maybe a mix of both. It was so hard to tell with him and her head was pounding again. Trying to understand what Reid’s core emotion was, she stated, “You would have jumped in too. Emily did.” Spencer sighed deeply and said, “I would have jumped in now. But probably not when was a first-year agent. I know now that I don’t have to physically jump into every situation, but that comes with time.” Reid’s statement only left _y/n_ more confused, so she shut her eyes and mouth and just tried to breathe normally. For a profiler, she didn’t feel that good at reading him right now. 
Spencer was doing his darndest to mask his real emotions, concern, and worry. He’d meant what he said to _y/n_, but he hadn’t meant it to come off as so passive-aggressive. So hot and cold. The issue was he was all hot and soft and wanted to pull _y/n_ into a hug and tell her that she had been so brave, if not cocky for taking on five men at once. It wasn’t the technique he would have used, but she’d moved on instinct, a pure instinct to protect and defend someone in need. He saw her do this over and over and over on the field. She did it with him and it made him love her even more. But _y/n_ was trying to act brave and fight back tears as they got closer to the ER, and he didn’t know how to tell her he cared about her more than anything without telling her he loved her. It wasn’t possible, so he let the silence sit again. Thankfully the small clinic that was nearest to them was only five minutes away, and he pushed the pedal down a bit farther to get _y/n_ the care she claimed she didn’t need. 
Inside the small office, Spencer grabbed an intake packet while _y/n_ handed over her insurance card. The receptionist said, “It should be about thirty minutes. The nurse will call you back when they’re ready for you.” Reid nodded and led _y/n_ to a chair. She had her eyes closed and her head in her hands. The pain was slowly ebbing back into her body as her energy dipped again. Spencer realized that the lights were bothering her, and he set the forms down on the adjacent chair. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over _y/n_’s hunched head and shoulders. _y/n_ felt an instant reprieve as the lights that she was trying to keep out of her view disappeared under a blanket of black. She let out a sigh of relief. Swallowing down her emotions, _y/n_ peaked out from under the coat. Spencer was filling out the tedious form for her and she whispered, “Thanks, Spence.” Spencer looked over to her and said, “Of course, _y/n_.” He patted his shoulder as if saying, “You can rest your head here.” _y/n_ had never heard him use such kindness with her before. He looked out for her, but not like this. She didn’t have the energy to read into anything anymore. She just accepted what was being offered and dropped the jacket over her face again, not caring if she looked silly. _y/n_ also dipped her head onto his warm shoulder, letting the scratching of the pen and the dimmed sound of the TV fill her ears. A half-hour later, _y/n_ got seen by a doctor who informed her that her nose had a minor fracture. The doctor did put two stitches in on her forehead to close up the scar that was much deeper than _y/n_ had expected. _y/n_ tried to pay attention as the medical man gave her care instructions and prescription for a stronger pain relief. He also gave her a large dose of Advil for her to be able to rest that night. Reid checked her out and got her prescription from the nurse at the exit. The tired woman tried to flirt with him, but he didn’t respond. He just wanted to get _y/n_ home safely. 
The ride back was soft as the pain medication started making _y/n_ drowsy. Spencer got her up to her apartment and room. Just as Spencer thought _y/n_ was asleep, _y/n_ said, “Call me tomorrow at eleven so I can get up in time to make that lecture.” Reid wanted to tell her to take a break. He’d give the lecture, but by that time she was already asleep. Reid let out a soft breath. He pulled the covers over _y/n_’s form and turned off the light in her room. Spencer softly slipped out of her room and locked the electronic lock behind him. As he drove JJ’s car back to the liaison’s apartment, he considered his feelings. How he’d watched _y/n_ grow as an agent so far with the BAU. They had just kind of clicked in a way that he hadn’t expected. It had started as early as her first case as she noticed something in his geographic profile that he had missed. As it turned out sometimes Spencer’s attention to tiny details and his expansive knowledge left holes in the bigger picture. Holes that _y/n_ could see and point out. She’d come to him personally to point it out. She didn’t make a big deal of catching something that the infamous Dr. Reid had missed. She didn’t try and show off, she just pointed it out like he was a normal person, like everyone else who made human errors. Since then they had just stuck. They balanced the other out. Spencer sighed as he thought about her battered face, her desire to prove herself again and again like she wasn’t good enough already. That was the problem with liking someone in the department, who had to watch them throw themselves in danger over and over and it killed Reid. That was another reason he had kept his feelings at bay. But tonight something had shifted, and he didn’t know if he could pretend anymore. He’d sleep on it and re-evaluate in the morning. He found this policy worked for almost everything in his life, and he hoped to any God that it would bring clarity the following day. 
As it turned out, _y/n_ didn’t need to have Spencer call her in the morning, as she woke up sore and in pain at 7:00 a.m. She got up and drank a glass of water with her pain meds. She reminded herself that she needed to pick up her prescription as she started making some _c/t_. _y/n_ then moved to the mirror and cringed at the sight of her face. _y/n_ did her best to fight the puffiness with makeup, but even as hard as she tried, no makeup was going to cover everything. The stitches for one couldn’t be touched for a few days, so they stood out like a sore thumb. _y/n_ called Emily and asked if she was coming in that morning. Prentiss replied, “Yup. Hotch wants to talk to us. I forgot to tell you last night. I kind of passed out once I got home.” _y/n_ nodded, accepting the inevitable, and said, “Okay. What time did he say?” Pernitss replied, “Noon. He promised to make it quick.” _y/n_ bit the inside of her mouth, but she’d rather get this unpleasant lecture over with before giving her lecture later in the day. _y/n_ asked, “Can you come pick me up? I want your reassurance before seeing Hotch.” Emily lightly laughed on the other end of the line and said, “You got it. _y/n_. Be there in thirty-ish minutes.” _y/n_ got changed and picked up her work bag. She remembered Spencer and shot him a text as Emily arrived saying that she was up and headed to the office. She also said, “Thanks for your help last night. See you in a few.” _y/n_ still wasn’t sure what last night was between them, a fight? A confession? She couldn’t say, but she was too stressed about the meeting with Hotch to think about it now. 
Hotch’s lecture about jumping into situations without thinking first was stern enough to remind them to not do that again but hinted at a kind of pride that he only showed for his team and no one else. Two hours after that talk _y/n_ was standing in front of the lectern with a sea of NATs sitting in front of her. There were at least two hundred in this class, and somehow giving this lecture now felt more daunting than anything else that had happened that week. Maybe because it was the last big thing she needed to do before the weekend, or that she was a bit overdressed for the occasion, or that the lights were hurting her eyes. The front of the stage was uncomfortably hot with all the lights pointed at her. _y/n_ took one last breath before looking at her useless notes, which she hadn’t looked at since yesterday afternoon. The man that had introduced her had just said that Derek Morgan couldn’t make it today and then said her name and that was it. _y/n_ felt like they deserved a better explanation than that. So she started by saying, “Well, as you all know, Derek Morgan was supposed to be talking to you today. As you can see, I’m not him.” That got a chuckle from a good part of the audience. _y/n_ placed her hand on either side of the lectern and said, “If it’s not clear by Morgan’s absence, and well, my face, a lot of unexpected things can happen in the FBI. And that’s really what your case studies are about. To learn to adapt and observe. You’ve got a month left at the academy and that month is going to go fast, so allow me to tell you what to expect.” _y/n_ looked out at the young and eager faces in front of her. She looked to the back and noticed Spencer standing there. She’d hardly had time to see him today, and it gave her a profound amount of comfort to have him here. _y/n_ relaxed and jumped into her thoughts and experiences with her case studies. She hardly went off her notes and just went on instinct. She didn’t sound rehearsed or like she was trying to be smart. She was just being herself. The person Spencer admired more than anyone at the moment. _y/n_ managed to make it through most of her remarks and felt grateful that the agents in training were paying attention to her while taking notes or nodding along. She detailed how now was the time to make mistakes. How it was better to ask all your questions, even stupid ones, during these exercises and not when you were out on the field. How to tag evidence, and how to look for small and big details in the fake cases they would be given. Just as _y/n_ was about to make her final point and wrap up, a wave of dizziness hit her out of nowhere. _y/n_ stumbled a bit, and suddenly, the lights were so bright, and her jacket felt like it was suffocating her. Not sure what was happening, _y/n_ closed her eyes tight and gripped the lectern tightly. There was a murmur from the NATs. This wasn’t how she wanted her lecture to end, but not thinking of any other choice but ducking behind the stage to get a seat, she said, “Sorry. I’m not feeling so well. My friend and colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid will close out the lecture. Thank you all for your time, and good luck with the last month. I believe all of you have what it takes to be great agents.” There were a few hesitant claps of applause as _y/n_ moved off stage on shaky feet. She was met by the man who had introduced her, and led her to a chair on the side of the stage. He asked if she wanted to go, but she protested and just sat in the dark trying to regain her composure. 
Spencer had watched as _y/n_ swayed unsteadily at the front of the room. His heart leaped in his chest, seeing _y/n_ like this. He hadn’t expected to be called to speak. But _y/n_ had asked, and he moved onto the stage. He quickly introduced himself even though everyone in the audience already knew who he was. Reid looked down at the last page of _y/n_’s notes, which she had sort of been following, and realized most of the page were just his corrections, and suddenly, he understood why she had been so annoyed yesterday morning. His annotations were too much to be helpful. Spence sighed, looked at the students, and then into the wings where _y/n_ was sitting on a chair. Reid started talking, but it wasn’t for the students, at least not wholly. He said, “Being in the FBI isn’t an easy job. I think you all know that now, and if you don’t, well I guess it’t not too late to quit, but what will all have that work been for then? As you head into your case studies, I have one last thing to tell you, and that’s that you need friends now and when you’re on the field. I say this because there’s always something you’ll miss, and if you make friends, they can tell you that and fill in the gaps. You need someone you can call night or day because things will get hard, and you’ll be lost or scared or think you’re not doing enough. You’ll need someone to remind you that you're just as human as everyone else. So as you get sorted into your teams and assigned your cases, get to know your team members. Trust them. I think that’s the best advice I can offer you. Thank you.” With that, Spence exited stage left and replaced the introducer who moved back into the bright light of the stage to dismiss the NATs. Spencer checked in with _y/n_, who said, “Thanks Spence. Sorry to put you on the spot like that.” Reid shook his head and said, “It was nothing. How do you feel, what happened?” _y/n_ swallowed and said, “I don’t know, I just got faint. It’s passed now, I think.” Spencer couldn’t hide his genuine concern for her as he said, “_y/n_, please let me take you to the hospital or something. You shouldn’t be nearly fainting.” _y/n_ looked at him and didn’t think she could bear another two hours in a waiting room. She said, “Spencer, please. If you’ve ever cared about me, can you just take me to _y/l/p_ and then drive me home?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Reid stilled at her words and said, “Okay, _y/n_. Whatever you want.” The pair quickly made it to Spencer's car in the lot just outside the NAT training building. 
Once they were inside his car, _y/n_ said, “Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that. I didn’t mean to assume or throw your concern back in your face. You’ve always been so nice to me, and I guess I just saw what I wanted to.” Reid looked at _y/n_ and said, “I love you, _y/n_.” The words astounded _y/n_, and she didn’t know what to say apart from, “What?” Spencer looked at her with the eyes he had last night on the drive back to her apartment and said, “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I didn’t know what to say. I meant everything up there on that stage. You’re my best friend, and you remind me that I’m human, and why I’m doing what I am. I just didn’t say the part about how I’ve been bottling up my feelings for months now. Because I’m a coward when it comes to my feelings. _y/n_ was almost in tears now, and she said, “You’re not a coward Spencer, and if you are, then I am too because I love you too, and I never said anything either.” Spence couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned across the console to embrace _y/n_. He was mindful of her face, and as _y/n_ pressed into him, he relaxed. Feelings were hard. He still didn’t fully understand them, but with _y/n_, he was just human enough to want to embrace them.
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foolforharrry · 2 years ago
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Cactus Mug - Harry Styles Oneshot
Summary: After being away from each other for so long while Harry is on tour, y/n finally decides to go surprise Harry.
2.5k words
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Harry has been on tour for months now. Waking up to a cold bed alone every day is something he’s made known he absolutely despises. As much as he loves performing in front of his fans every night, touring can get lonely. And some days are harder than others.
Today has been one of those days.
The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was to check my phone for a text message from Harry. 
And like almost every single morning, there it was. The notification bubble with his contact name in.
H: Missing you extra tonight. I can’t wait to finally kiss you and have you in my arms again. This house doesn’t really feel like a home without you. So I might have tried out that new recipe you sent me the other day. The mushroom risotto. Not sure where I went wrong, but it didn’t taste very good. So you’ll have to show me how to make it when you get here. Only one more week, yeah? Goodnight, my love.
Reading it, all I could think about was the disappointed frown he must’ve had on his face when he realised that he had messed up the food. Knowing him, he would have eaten as much of it as he could stomach.
It was then I decided to call my boss and ask her if there was any chance that I could work from home. I wasn’t 100% sure if she would grant it, but she must’ve heard the desperation in my voice and decided to show me mercy. 
Before Harry, I’d never seen myself as someone who would be able to be in a long-distance relationship. In the past when situations where a relationship would’ve become long distance, I was always the one to end it, not being able to stand being away from the person for that long.
But with Harry it was different. With him, it’s worth it.
That doesn’t mean I’m not counting down the days until we can be together again from the minute he leaves.
Which is why I didn’t think the flight through enough and ended up having to sprint through the airport to make it to my gate in order to not miss my flight, knowing I definitely forgot to pack something I’m going to need but it’s too late to worry about that now.
The second I’m squeezed between a teenage girl and a middle-aged man on the plane at 12:05 pm, I fish my phone out of my pocket again with hands shaky from excitement and nerves. Both over seeing Harry again and the sneaky element of flying to him without him knowing I am.
Me: Morning, Angel. I’ve got a really busy day at work today, so I’m sorry if I don’t get back to you before late. And of course, I’ll teach you how to make it (what would you do without me?). I love you higher than the sky xx
I’m hoping he won’t ask me any questions about what I’m going to be so busy with since I’m a horrible liar, especially under stress. 
My prayers are answered when his reply comes almost immediately. The text message attached to a photo of his sleep-puffed face with his eyes closed, pink lips puckered and his hair wild and curly from sleep.
H: Sending all my love and kisses to you baby. Good luck with your day. If you’re not too tired when you get home, we could facetime? I miss your voice so much.
Me: It’ll be nice to see your face again. I miss it.
H: If you miss it too much you can always just look at your lock screen, you know.
Me: Yes. This solves all of my problems! Bye now, my love.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling like a psychopath as I type out one last text message and attach a photo I know will hurt his ego a bit before I set my phone to flight mode.
There hasn’t gone a week since the photo was taken where I haven’t reminded him of its existence. If I can’t share it with anyone else, I’m gonna share it with him.
It was taken almost a year ago in the hotel room we were staying in. Harry had demanded that I take a photo of him with his new cactus mug. The mug was adorable and literally looked like a cactus. He had been posing by the sofa when he forgot that tea is hot. The sip of tea he’d just taken had been sent flying everywhere as well as all the tea that was still inside the mug. 
I thank the lucky stars every day for live photos.
While he had been panicking about burning his tongue, he had ended up dropping the mug to the floor. Something he says he’s still upset over.
So last week, when I saw a mug almost identical to the one he broke, I had to buy it for him. It’s safely tucked in my bag. My favourite hoodie of Harry’s is wrapped around it to keep it from breaking. Hopefully.
“You need to put your seatbelt on, miss.”
The polite voice snaps me out of my thought, turning my head to look at the flight attendant. It takes me a second to comprehend, what she says, but when I do I thank her quickly, offering her a small smile before fastening my seatbelt.
When I’m secured, I plug my wired AirPods in, and try my best to get comfortable for the six-hour flight ahead of me
-
I’ve never really been a fan of flying. 
The idea of being crammed in a metal box with a bunch of strangers high up in the clouds for a longer period of time just never appealed to me. Especially not with the occasional screaming baby.
But this might have been one of the least uncomfortable flights I’ve ever taken.
Sleeping for most of it might have a lot to do with it, but oh well.
I’m not gonna lie and say that it wasn’t a relief to finally exit the plane and stand in a building that doesn’t lift off the ground either.
However, that relief doesn’t even get close to the feeling when I finally lay eyes on my final destination.
When the driver finally stops the car, I’m quick to pay before I’m hauling myself and my bag out of the cab while thanking him over my shoulder. He drives off immediately, leaving me alone in front of the house I’m starting to think is empty.
The lights are all turned off and Harry’s car isn’t parked in its usual spot. He only ever parks it in the garage when he’s leaving LA.
A bit defeated, I take my keychain out of the outer pocket of my bag as I step up the few stairs leading to the front door. Finally, after fiddling with it for way too long, I find the right key.
Like I thought, the house is empty. There is no music playing anywhere. The TV is off and there is no sign of life as I drop my bag by the staircase. 
Still, just the faint smell of him feels like a warm, much-needed hug.
Not wanting to spoil the surprise, but also wanting to know what he’s up to, I get my phone out of my back pocket and dial Harry’s number on my way up the stairs to the second floor.
He picks up before I’ve reached the top.
“Hi, love.”, Harry’s voice has a smile forming on my face within seconds.
I stop in my tracks, willing my heart to slow down again half convinced he’s able to hear it through the phone from how hard it’s beating. Even after all this time, just hearing his voice makes my stomach fill with butterflies. “Hi, baby. I only have a second. But i wanted to hear your voice. what are you up to?”
That’s a good lie, right? 
“I’m on my way to the shop right now. I was craving grapes. Are you ok, though? You sound a little out of breath.” 
“I just ran up the stairs.” Not a complete lie. “But anyways. I have to go again.”
“Already?”, he asks, his voice sounding sad. 
“I’m sorry, my love.” I genuinely am. “But hey. We’ll see each other so soon, yeah? Can’t wait to see you.”
He hums, “One more week.”
After saying goodbye, I hang up, doing some quick calculations in my head that I do have time to shower the icky feeling of flying off me before he gets back home from the store if I’m fast.
Not wasting any time, I speed walk to our bedroom, making a beeline for Harry’s side of the closet so I can grab one of his hoodies. I settle on a pastel yellow one with a big kawaii drawing of a pug on the front before shuffling to grab a pair of grey sweatpants and some underwear from my own side of the closet.
Since I’m not entirely sure exactly how much time I have before Harry is going to be back home, I decide against music. I can’t let myself get carried away and take too long.
But before I strip out of my clothes and hop in the shower, I run downstairs, pull the cactus mug out of my bag and set it on top of the kitchen island next to the plain black one with a used tea bag that was already left there.
Just in case.
As much as I love our home in New York, it just hasn’t felt the same while he’s been away. The only mess in the apartment was made by me and me alone.
And I’m not gonna lie and say that I haven’t missed the way Harry always leaves a mess behind throughout the week. Whether that be a towel on the floor or a heap of clothes left slung over a chair. Or the way he would vow to get better at tidying up after himself every Sunday only to never follow through on it.
So seeing all the different products and stuff scattered all over the dark grey bathroom countertops brings me a sense of peace I didn’t know that I needed.
I make quick work of my shower, even turning the water off while washing my hair and body to force myself to be more efficient. But even with that, I wasn’t fast enough.
While in the process of pulling the soft hoodie over my head, my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear footsteps just outside the bathroom door.
They’re very quiet. Almost as if the person is trying to keep themselves from anyone hearing them. I wouldn’t even have caught them if it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t close the door all the way.
“Fuck.”, I curse, scrambling to loop my arms through the sleeves just as the door swings open fully to reveal a sight that has me torn between whether to laugh or cry from pure happiness.
Harry is holding a frying pan up in defence, clutching it with both hands as if his life depends on it. And I can’t decide whether he looks terrified or surprised.
I clear my throat, not even caring about the whole plan I had been ruined. “You just gonna stand there, Rapunzel?”
One second later and he’s dropped the frying pan, the sound of it clattering to the ground echoes around the bathroom. But I don’t get to even look at it for more than just a moment before I’m engulfed in one of the tightest hugs I’ve ever gotten.
Harry’s arms go around my waist, burying his face in my neck when I hug him back. I have to stand on my tippy toes to loop my arms around his neck, feeling my eyes start to well up with tears. It’s only now that I’m back in his arms, feeling his chest move with every breath he takes and the puffs of air fanning out over the soft skin of my neck with each exhale.
He’s so freaking warm too. Not just physically. But just the feel of being close enough to smell his cologne and the faint remnants of his body wash makes a warmth spread through my whole body. It’s like taking a sip of hot tea when you’re freezing cold. The heat slowly expanded from my heart to my fingertips.
It feels like home.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”, Harry mumbles, forcing a choked chuckle from me as I hug him tighter. “I can always go back to New York if you don’t want me here.”, I joke without meaning it one bit. You’d have to knock me out and drag me along the floor for me to leave.
Pulling back enough to look me in the eye, Harry takes my face in his hands, “If you even think about leaving me alone again, I’m going to follow you. And then when I’ve caught you. I’m gonna throw tomatoes at you.”
The more he speaks, the more he squishes my cheeks, making my words partly slurred which only makes it that much harder to keep a straight face. “What if I want you to throw tomatoes at me?”
He tilts his head to the side with a chuckle, dimples indenting his cheeks. His green eyes look like they’re sparkling from the way the light reflects in them and blush has painted his cheeks pink.
“You’re fucking impossible, you know.”, he breathes out with a laugh.
I run my fingers through his hair, getting distracted momentarily by how soft his curls are. “You still love me, right?”
Instead of answering me with words, Harry ducks down, pressing his lips against mine in a way that has me losing my breath as my eyelids fall shut.
The way he kisses me turns me into putty in his arms. Both from how gently his hands hold my face to how soft his lips are as he mumbles ‘I love you' against my lips between kisses until I’m giggling too much to kiss him back and he just starts peppering kisses all over my face.
I tug lightly on his hair to get pull his face back a bit when I hear a sniffle, frowning when I see his eyes watery with unshed tears. the tip of his nose is a bit red and his lips turned into a pout.
It’s when I ask him what’s wrong, a single tear starts rolling down his cheek quickly followed by another.
Harry blinks rapidly, looking up at the ceiling as he sniffles again but doesn’t tell me why he’s crying.
Wiping his tears away with my thumbs, I kiss his moist cheek tenderly, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Tell me what’s wrong, Angel.”
“I just missed you.”, Harry sniffles. “They’re happy tears though.”
“I missed you too.”, I admit. Whispering it to him as if I haven’t told him that I miss him every day we’ve been apart.
“Now really. How are you here, baby?”, Harry asks seriously, sliding his hands from my face down my neck. “I thought you couldn’t get away from work for another week.”
“Well.”, I start, already feeling my cheeks heat up, “Asking your boss very nicely with a drop of desperation seems to work wonders.”
Harry smirks, “Desperation huh?” Even his chest puffs in pride.
“I had to give you your belated birthday present.”, I explain to him, feeling giddy as I remember the genius purchase I made.
“My birthday is in February, love.”
I roll my eyes at him, grabbing his hand before dragging him with me. Careful to step over the pan he dropped.
“Where are we going?”, Harry asks. He still laces our fingers together, giving my hand a squeeze. It might as well have been my heart he had his hand wrapped around with the jump it made at the gesture.
“To get you your present.”
-
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goodluckclove · 7 months ago
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How I Critique Writing (A Loose Collection of Tips)
Someone asked me for insights into my methodology when it comes to giving feedback on writing and I realized I had way more than I could say in a reasonable amount of private messages. Are you someone who I've spoken to about their writing? Did someone send you their work and you don't know how to respond? Maybe this will help? Based on how people react I feel like it might be controversial but it seems to work.
When someone sends me their writing, no matter the size, subject or genre, I:
Take it seriously. It's a generational epic about the Vietnam war and its effects. It's a cute, young adult romance. It's Zim and Dib from Invader Zim realizing they've always been in love with each other. All of these things can be written with earnestness, strength, honesty and skill. It's fucking hard to write and if someone writes a single sentence that wouldn't otherwise exist its worth holding in your hands and examining with the same eye as if you were taking an interesting book off the shelf.
Respond with curiosity. It's common for critiques to follow a theme of ambiguous disdain. This doesn't work. Delete this. Bad. No. Gross. Guess what? That's not helpful. If you got that feedback, even if you followed it, you wouldn't be thrilled about it. Oftentimes you can take a line that makes you want to say Bad and ask something else. What is this supposed to express? What were you trying to do here? Am I supposed to feel happy/sad/uncertain when I read this? Curiosity can reframe something that you don't think works as a reader and turn it into an opportunity for the writer to look inward and solve their own problem. They might explain what they were trying to do, and if you were to say that it didn't pan out for you they're way more likely to tweak things themselves and feel like they still have control over their project.
Give comments. I've started giving more in-depth comments on the writing people give me depending on how anxious they are about it. If you're a pretty confident writer I'll give a summary of what I gained and what I was left wondering, what I thought and what I felt, what associations it made me think of in terms of tone and other forms of media - stuff like that. For newer writers, especially those who are far more doubting of their own abilities, I go buck wild. And in my opinion notes should be less like Good! I like this! Wow! Nice! (What are you, grading my book report? No thanks), and more like what you think when you're reading a book you're truly invested in. Make jokes about the characters (Not mean ones. I will send bugs to you in the mail.), chart exact lines that provoke physical reactions, even a small one. Can you imagine reading someone treat your work like it has its own fandom on Tumblr? You can do that for someone else.
Fucking have some fucking awareness of the fact that it might not be for you and that doesn't mean it's bad. I'm angry about this one considering the novel a friend sent me last night that they've been too terrified to try and post online, despite it being fucking brilliant. I'll try and calm down. Listen - you read what you like. I mainly read literary and experimental fiction, some poetry, horror and some sci-fi. Not a lot of genre fiction. But I will always be down to read someone's high fantasy story, because even though I don't really like fantasy I know what the good ones sound like. I've forced myself to gain a sense of what someone else would like, even if I don't like it. And I can still critique it. If I'm a builder and I see a house that's painted a shade of green I find sinful for a home (i.e. mint), I can look past that and focus on the state of the walls and the stability of the foundation. You aren't a reviewer, man. You are neither Siskel, nor Ebert. They write for readers, you write for writers. So you don't like historical fiction? Cool, man. Congrats. If someone trusts you enough to give you some to read and critique, you should still do so objectively. If you give it an automatic F because you wouldn't buy it, then you are legally a stinky little trash man. That's just the law.
Ask them what they liked to write and what was the hardest. There's apparently a weird trend on online writer communities that say there are specific rules that all writers need to follow. This is not true. It just isn't. If the dialogue in a story you read is weak, and the writer says they hate writing dialogue and really struggle with it, maybe tell them they don't have to use it. You might change their entire life.
RESPOND WITH CURIOSITY. You see the Ask games where people try and get more detail on the WIP of certain authors. If you have a WIP and I ask you a worldbuilding question that doesn't relate to the direct plot of the story as it exists now, I bet you'd like to talk about it. If I ask if you were inspired by a certain tone or movie, you might know the work I was talking about and feel happy. Or you might not know it, look it up, and feel inspired. I don't think people realize that a critique of new/unfinished writing is not a one-and-done exchange. You are taking part in an isolated process in a way few other people on the planet will. It's not homework. It's. Not. Homework. We spend so much of our time alone just fiddling our hands and making our magic, and in instances like these we share something in one of the ultimate forms of artistic trust. They're taking you into a world that hasn't fully formed yet. Is it cool? Can you tell me about it? Can they?
Be nice. Storytime, friends. In the way early 2010s, there was something on the internet called sporking. It was pretty much a line by line roast of someone's writing - typically fanfic. And I hate to say this, but I read a lot of it. I was 13, somehow untreated and overmedicated, and I was miserable constantly. Just cold in my chest. At one point I had the chance to critique a stranger's story - probably another child - and I essentially mocked the whole thing. They ended up deleting the story off the website. I cannot begin to describe to you the shame I feel about doing this, even ten years later. It burns in my heart and makes me sick to my stomach. If you are a serious writer, especially a young writer, and you insult another writer's craft to their face just as they're getting started - you will regret it. I promise you that. You will think about holding something alive and full of potential in your hands and squeezing your fists until it is just flecks of meat and crushed bone. It will haunt you. Maybe only a little, but constantly and for the rest of your life. So don't do it.
Wow what a grim note to leave on! That's essentially my philosophy on writing critique, do with it what you will. Want to send me some writing to receive this kind of excessive treatment? Cool! I have an email in my pinned post and I'll do that! I'm also down to chat if anyone wants to send me asks or DMs on writing/writing struggles/publishing tips.
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ghostssweetgirl · 2 years ago
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Good Girls Get Rewards task force 141 x reader smut
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CW: gangbang, oral (m + f), vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration, name-calling, degradation, size kink, creampies, overstimulation... being a good girl for the 141? a whore... for the 141...
A/N - So for my first time writing a "gangbang", it's pretty okay right? Maybe it's not considered a gangbang or it's more orgy but you get the gist. I've been working on it for days. Hopefully, it's enjoyable. I wish I could make it longer but my brain farted and I had trouble finishing it off (it's not terrible but not great). My grammar in this... could be better 😅. I also tried to give everyone attention, so I'm sorry if your favorite didn't get a lot of attention. Not my best, but it's fun :)
WC: Over 3k.
Minors, do not interact. 18+ only !!
--
Being a medic for the guys was honestly stressful, but you truly loved your job. You always had something to do and wounds to tend to. Sure, you didn't truly get time off, or away. You didn't get to do much to relieve yourself either as privacy was little to none in this environment. It also didn't help to be around these good-looking men in their tactical gear. Oh, they got to you. How they praised you as you fixed them up.
~
You're really good at this, Maus.  König nicknamed you.
Do you know how beautiful ya are when you tend to me like this? Ghost purred in your ear.
I'd hurt myself on purpose just to see ya, bonnie. Soap flirted.
Be careful touchin' an ol' man like that, angel. Captain Price undressed you with his bright, blue eyes.
Gaz flirts with you through slick pick-up lines.
Alejandro always uses 'hermosa' as your nickname. Biting his lips as his eyes crept over every curve of your body.
~
You make your way to the showers as you caught up on your paperwork and duties. Grateful to find no one else there, you undress as you grab a towel and washcloth, slinging them over your shoulder while you occupy a corner shower, turning it on. You set your stuff down and undo your hair, brushing it with your fingers. 
After lathering yourself with soap and fully washing, you indulge in some self-pleasure. Your hands snake down your body, one hand grasping at your plush tits, one gliding down your tummy, creeping towards your warmth. You throw your head back against the wall as you apply pressure to your clit, moving in slow circular motions, earning a slight mewl from your parted lips. 
Your hardened nipple grazing between your fingers sent small shockwaves through your body as you leaned on the brink of orgasm. 
~Oh... fuck... 
Right as you reached your peak, you're interrupted as the group of men walk into the stalls. 
Shit, shit, shit. You were definitely caught.
You quickly turn off the water and wrap the towel around you, trying to get out of there without being seen, only for the exit to be blocked off by everyone.
~
"You okay, darlin'?" Price asked, staring into your soul.
"Y-yes, I am, sir, sorry, didn't mean to be in the way..."
"Oh, thought you were hurt with all the commotion I heard in 'ere..." 
You froze in place, looking at him like you were a deer in headlights. "Oh... No... I'm not hurt."
You dared to look at everyone, whose hungry eyes were already on you.
"Hmm..." the captain nodded at the group of guys.
"I-I was just about to get going, guys..." 
Price stepped forward to you, eyes now dark and lustful. "Oh, no, you're not."
You gasped as he sternly caressed your neck, backing you against the cold tile. "Captain, wh-"
"Shhh..." His thumb pressed against your lip as his eyes darted between your eyes and mouth. As you made eye contact with Soap, you silently begged him, Price ordered your attention back on him, "Don't look at him. He's not gonna help you, darlin'. Look at me."
You whimpered as you couldn't help the feelings that erupted from the group of men staring at you like they were. Like you were their prey. Their catch. They cornered you, getting what they wanted.
"Those pretty sounds you were makin'... Did it feel good, love?"
Your lips pursed as you withheld your answer.
"Answer me, love..." he growled. "That's an order."
"Yes... sir," you admitted.
"Good girl..." he chuckled. "Good girls get rewards, don't they, fellas?"
Unanimous "yes sirs" echoed in the room. 
"Be a good girl for us, yeah?" he slipped the towel off of you as he forced your legs apart with his knee, letting a hand rub between your folds. "Already wet... Mmm..."
"Price~..."
He nodded at Soap as he walked over to you, towering over you as well. 
"She's fuckin' beautiful," Soap smirked as his hand reached out to grope your breasts, Price's rough hand massaging at your waist.
"That she is," Price agreed, leaning down to suck on your neck, whispering in your ear, "You like this, don't you, sweetheart?"
You nodded as Price's fingers now found your clit, Soap's wet warmth sucked on your bud. "Fuck... yes."
"Atta girl," Price stepped back, allowing Soap to give you his full attention. 
Your hand finds Soap's hair, earning a groan from him as he kisses up your chest to your lips. Pulling away, he whispers, "Yer so hard to resist, hen..." before going back to kiss you. He uses one hand to pin both of your wrists above your head while his other slaps your pussy gently. "Ready for us to use ya, bonnie? Yeah?" 
"God - fuck, yes..."
"Step the fuck back, Johnny," Ghost snapped as he pulled Soap away from you. 
You're weak against the wall, your arms falling to your side with no attempt to catch them, Ghost is quick to replicate the same movement, using one hand to pin your wrists above your head. 
"You look delightful like this, luv, but we can't fucking wait to get you cock drunk..."
He picked you up against the wall with your thighs over his forearms. König walked over, able to help keep you up with his tall height. While you were between both of them, legs draped over their arms, Ghost was quick to prod at your entrance, sliding one thick finger in. König made himself busy by rubbing at your clit ferociously while your legs were shaking.
"Oh, my god!~" you wailed.
"You like this don't you, Du Schlampe? (you slut) Ahh~" König purred with his German accent.
"Look at how wet you are for us," Ghost teased you as his finger scissored inside of you, kissing the gummy spot of your walls. "You wanted this, didn't you? You wanted us to treat you like the little fuckin' whore you are."
"Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes, please, Ghost, I'm gonna-!"
"Don't let her cum," Price ordered.
"Not quite yet," he hissed, taking his finger away from you as König stopped his motions.
You whimpered, looking around at all the men around you, hoping for mercy. 
"Alejandro..." you begged him.
"Si, mi hermosa?" he chuckled. 
"Please..."
"Hmm?" he walked towards you as you were still lifted by the brute men.
"Please... I wanna cum..."
"I'm afraid I can't let you, hermosa~... Oh, but you know I wish I could..." he wet his lips as he leaned down enough to lick a straight stripe up your cunt.
"Please fuck- please fuck me, please!" you begged. "Gaz..."
Gaz chuckled as he leaned against the wall, stroking his hard cock. Soap and Price were jacking off too, and the sight weakened you even more. The mere thought of them pleasuring themselves to you made your stomach grow tighter as you were trying to take in everything happening. You're hardly able to focus as Alejandro tightened his lips around your clit, making your body jolt in Ghost and König's arms.
"Please someone fuck me!" 
"On your hands and knees," your captain ordered and you followed, being put down by the masked men. "Crawl to me."
Embarrassed, you do so. You crawl to where Price and Soap stand, sitting up on your knees in front of them.
"Open your mouth..." 
He slapped the tip of his thick cock against your tongue, groaning at the sensation. "Fuckin' hell, I've been wanting to put my cock in this mouth for a long time..."
With no warning, he slammed into the back of your throat. "Put your fuckin' hands to work, don't be a lazy slut."
Instantly, you hold your hands out, one grabbing Soap's length, the other grasping Alejandro's. The men's groans fill your ears, giving you a boost. Gaz leaned down and stuck two fingers in your hole, letting you bounce on them. 
"Good girl," Price praised holding onto both sides of your head as you bobbed up and down. 
"Just like that, lass, fuuuck~," Soap moaned, fucking himself into your grip. 
You eagerly took turns switching from cock to cock, hand replacing the one you just left, doing your best to be a good girl for the 141. 
"Think she's about ready for a cock," Gaz moaned out as he heard the wetness of your cunt through each thrust of his fingers, arousal glistening in his hands.
"Is that so?" Price cooed at you, caressing your cheek as you let Alejandro's cock go with a pop. 
"Yes sir, I'm so fucking ready, please!"
Even at this moment, he's still ordering his squad around.
"Soap, lay on the bench."
"Y/n, get on top of him, face up."
You both obey, and as you lay down on Soap, his hands greedily explore your body. His tip nudges at your asshole. Price spits on your cunt, letting the juices leak down. He humps between your folds collecting juices. Your eyes screwed shut as both dicks intruded your tight holes as you bit your lip while you whined.
"Steamin' Jesus, hen, you feel so good," Soap praised as he nibbled on your earlobe, hand grasping your throat. 
"That's a tight fuckin' cunt... Do you feel both of us, darlin'?"
"Yes~, yes, yes, yes, fuuuck~"
As both cocks moved in synchronized motions, Ghost towers over you and demands you open your mouth with his cock.
Gaz and Alejandro stand on either side of you so you can jerk them off.
Your attempt to moan was pitiful as your throat was stuffed full of Ghost's thick cock, you let your tongue play with the vein that ran along his shaft as you thoroughly enjoyed the grunts that came out of his mouth.
"Such a good slut," Gaz purred while his hand rubbed your arm. 
"Th-mmmgh y-oummgg~" a sad attempt at "thank you" earned a laugh from Price.
"Little princess can't speak with a mouthful, huh?" 
Ghost slapped at your face as he agreed, "Mhm... Mind your manners now darlin'..."
Soap's thrusts got more sloppy as he reached his climax, his hand closing around your throat tighter as he felt Ghost's length protruding out. 
"Fuck, m'gonn' cum, bonnie..." Soap sucked on your neck as he used your tit as a stress reliever, squeezing it tightly enough to cause a bruise. 
As Ghost pulls his tip in and out of your mouth, Pride's thrusts are deep and long... Alejandro is praising you in Spanish, also music to your ears. 
Strings of cum spray in you anally as Soap thrusts every last drop into you. "Yer gonna be so full of cum by the time we're done, hen. Mmm..."
Price slaps your pussy as you shook, lunging into your pussy one last time before spilling his seed in you. "Fuuuck, good girl, y/n. Good fuckin' girl." Price's accent through that praise made your eyes roll to the back of your head. As you were free of all cocks, you were now empty. Everyone decides what and who's next. 
Gaz gets underneath you, Alejandro on top of you, but you face Gaz.
König walks to the side of you and Ghost stays put, now on your right. 
Gaz pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. His hands caressing your neck. You felt Alejandro's hands massage your ass cheeks.
"Mmm, you want to get fucked, yeah?" Alejandro pulled your hair, making you arch your back as he rubbed your face. You shook your head doing your best to make eye contact with him from the weird angle you were in.
Pushing you down, you sink onto Gaz. Cum that leaked out of both holes being used as free lube. 
"You are... so divine, y/n," Gaz whispered in your ear, letting you adjust. You shrieked as Alejandro slammed into your ass in one agonizingly slow thrust. You felt like you were being ripped in half from the bottom up. 
Unlike Soap and Price's pace, these two weren't synchronized at all. Gaz's flow was more slow-paced, and less rough while Alejandro's had no relent.
"Can I please cum, fuck, please?!" you begged. 
"Stroke our cocks, liebchen (dear)..." König demanded softly.
You do so as you clench down on the two intrusions in your holes, trying your best to wait for permission to cum. 
Eyes widening when you feel König's length, you can't fit your hand around the girth - I mean, you can't Ghost's either - but as your hand slipped down his cock, it was almost neverending. 
"Cum for us, baby," Gaz pulled you into a kiss, sucking in your moans as you struggled to have two cocks in you and one in either hand. You soon worked your hips to make a new rhythm, hitting you in the best spots. 
König and Ghost grunt as your hand tightens, though your handjobs get sloppier as you start to see stars, pressure being built up inside you that needed release. Ghost pulled you by your hair, making you look into his dark eyes. "Didn't you hear what he said, luv? Be a good whore and do what you love, yeah?" He placed his gloved thumb in your mouth and you didn't hesitate to suck on it.
Finally, Vargas and Gaz synchronized, allowing you to release. 
"Thank you, thank you, thank you~..." you panted as your body shivered, gushing white liquid onto Gaz's cock. 
"Ah, fuck!" Alejandro hissed as he then spilled his load into you, Gaz following shortly after. 
You hunched on your side on the bench, out of breath, fucked out while you looked up at Ghost and König, the two very tall, intimidating masked men. You almost feared what they planned to do to you, considering they're the last two...
You look around you to see Price fully dressed, puffing on a cigar. Soap fully dressed as well, watching the scene in awe. Gaz and Alejandro leaned on the wall. Thankful for the break, you didn't even register what was said to you.
"Pay attention, pet..." Ghost leaned down to your face.
"Y-yes sir..." you muttered.
"Hands and knees."
You carefully obey, trying to get in a comfortable position on the not-so-thick bench. König walks in front of you and you have to lean up higher to reach his cock. 
"Sei ein braves Mädchen (be a good girl)," König cooed, looking down at you through his mesmerizing eyes, caressing your face. 
Ghost holds onto your waist for leverage as his tip kisses your entrance. "Fucked like a whore and still fuckin' tight..."
The leather of the bench rides under your fingernails as you grip it, trying to pay attention to König's cock. The thickness of Ghost is hard to adjust to, being much thicker than the past partners. 
"Ghost~... feels so good... so big..."
"I know, luv."
"Suck my cock, Maus... Ja (yes)..." König gritted his teeth. Aiming to please, your hands place themselves on his thighs for leverage. He helps his cock enter your mouth as you hollow your cheeks, sucking on the tip while he eases further softly.
Ghost's thrusts are hard, causing you to choke on König's cock as you're slammed forward. Each - and - every - thrust. 
Deep grunts from behind you as his thick Manchester accent helps you reach your high.
"You feel so fuckin' good, y/n. Gonna fill this pretty pussy with my thick load and watch all the cum leak out of your holes. Bein' a good fuckin' slut for us."
"Mmmm~" you vibrated against König's cock, his praise filling your ears also.
"You're taking me so well, y/n... So proud of you, baby..."
"Does that feel good? Ja (yes)?"
You manage to reach back to spread one of your cheeks for Ghost. He leans back, angling himself deeper and you can feel the bulge pressing through your tummy. 
König slides out of your mouth and starts jacking himself off, and in between pants and deep moans, you screamed. "I'm gonna fucking cum, right there, Ghost, please, oh fuck~"
"Is that right, you sexy little fucking thing?"
"Ghost~... please..." you looked back at him. He pulled you up, getting you in a chokehold between his arm and bicep. Your back is folded in half as you're pulled into him. Grabbing onto his wrist, you beg him with a voiceless plea, "Ghost... please let me cum. Please, sir."
"Oh, fuckin' hell..." his thrusts got sloppier from hearing you beg. He releases you from his hold and fucks you to your euphoria. "Cum for me, pet."
His chest kisses your back as he's nestled into your neck, riding out his high. Pulling out, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing, he slaps your ass, leaving red handprints. Fluid oozes out of you, drenching you in stickiness - your shower is now useless. He pulled out of you lazily, both of you moaning out at the feeling. 
"Ready for me, Schatz (darling)?" König asked with his soft voice.
"Yes, sir," you slurred as he helped you flip onto your back, leaning down between your legs. 
He sucked in a moan seeing you under him. 
His huge cock glided between your folds before he slowly inched in, stopping to let you adjust. 
"Oh fuck, König~..."
"Yes, Maus? Does it feel good?" he kissed your jaw while you hugged his biceps, pulling him close as you nodded your head.
With how tender König was being, you forgot that there was everyone else in the room, watching you be used. Fucked. Slutted out.
König's attempt to bottom out was nearly unsuccessful, you couldn't take all of him. 
"Tight fuckin' pussy, baby... even after all these cocks, you're still fucking tight..." he growled in your ear as he slammed into you in slow deep thrusts. 
You couldn't respond. Your mind is broken right now - too foggy - too much pleasure. 
"Is Maus feeling too fucked out to respond?" he chuckled. "That's okay, I'm gonna take care of you, darling..."
You respond in a broken "mhm" as he kept thrusting, kept pleasuring himself, further pleasing you. 
"Ahh~ Schatz (darling), the way you clench around me... I can't last long like this..."
"M'sorry... sorry..." you mutter out with a broken voice.
"Shhh... shh, it's okay, Meine Liebchen (my dear)."
He was using his cock as a battering ram to intrude your walls, tip kissing past your cervix. Your face contorted into a pleasured one as white sparks flash in your eyes and your stomach tightens. 
"I can tell - ahh, fuck~... you're about to cum... Gutes Mädchen (good girl)..."
Tears welled in your eyes as you feel too good, and your orgasm washed over you easily - taking control. You were determined to take each and every cock like a good girl and you succeeded - almost. 
"Scheiße (shit)! Ja... ja... ja (yes... yes... yes)... I'm going to cum so deep in you, Maus..."
As your tightness coaxed the cum out of König's cock, you felt too full as the last creampie overfilled you. He pulled out of you slowly, leaving you laid there like the fucked out slut you were.
"There she is... fucked out medic," Price shouted as he got up to walk towards you. "You okay, sweetheart?"
You nodded - no energy to talk.
"Y'did so good," he praised.
"Mhmm..."
"Take care of 'er, Soap... We gotta get back to work, unfortunately."
"Aye, captain," Soap obeyed.
~
Soap helped you up and showered with you, and didn't let you do any of the work. He washed your face, and your hair, and was even gentler as he washed your body that was undeniably sore. 
"Ya did so well for us, hen," Soap smiled as he met your lidded eyes.
"Thank you..."
"Mm, no, thank you..."
You giggle as your face fell into his neck. "'M so tired..."
"Let's get you dried off and to bed, then, lass."
--
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doofus-and-dragons · 1 year ago
Text
This will more than likely be the last one of these I have. So, for the last time, here is my live reaction to the final season of TMA. These will be in no particular order because ice been listening to it over the span of a couple of weeks. I only listen to it at work.
TMA S5 Spoilers ahead
The cabin episode made me so sad. The eyepocolypse had even taken away their domestic bliss
I really don't remember the trenches that well. It's not a fear of mine, so it didn't shake me or stick well enough. Still good tho
The sickness episode sent me right back to senior year of highschool. I had to take a minute KXNSKXN
REVOLUTIONS WAS AMAZING I LOVED THE POETRY AND THE ACENGING OF SASHA BY KILLING NOT!SASHA. I love it.
At first I thought the worms was about Jane again but I was very wrong. It was a very interesting take!
Curiosity made me incredibly sad. I feel bad for Eric, Micheal, and Sarah(? Trinity? I don't remember. She was set on fire by a desolation avatar I think)
Also: Gertrude x Agnes perhaps???? Or at least solemn pinning? Maybe I just think it's slightly tragic to make it so and sometimes angst is good yknow?
Roots was ok, but the only part that stuck out to me was the jealous Martin scene. I listened to it like 3 times. I kept rewinding it just to list to it.
Fire Escape was SO good! It gave me a kind of manic energy as I listened to the descriptions of the fire.
Martin in the Lonely again made me cry. That's it.
"Who's this? Your boyfriend?" "Yes actually." "Oh...so is there anyway this doesn't end in me dead?"
The Basira and Daisy stuff actually did make me feel bad for Basira. Like, it's the apocalypse and she's having a whole ass crisis.
SALESA WAS INCREADIBLE
I wonder how he faked his death... man is talented and smart, I'll give him that
Skipping ahead to Martin's domain. Loved that. My boy isn't strictly human and I love that he can't deny that fact anymore.
Martin: Something something "one of you"
Jon, being a smug theater kid bastard boy: "One of us."
Like I heard that and I imagined him smirking ominously and gesturing with both his hands
He sounded so pleased that his boyfriend, as miniscule a role it had or that martin had, was like him, and I love that for him
I'm so glad Melanie and Georgie are happy. Though, the cult does weird me out (cults give me the heebie jeebies. It was a very nice touch!)
They deserve nice things.
Also, my favorite of the Cult members was Anil's character. I can't remember his name right off the top of my head, but he was wonderful. Anil did amazing with that little cameo/role
The scene where's he's arguing with Martin reminds me of that Jojo meme with jotoro and dio, but instead of stands they have their poetry clutched tight in their fists
"I dont need a poet." No, Jon, because you already have one. His name is Martin
Of course Jon gets trapped in the ocean when he doesn't have big string martin to row him out of it XD
SOMEWHERE ELSE SOMEWHERE ELSE SOMEWHERE ELSE
Annabelle Cane is wonderful, I'm so glad Jon didn't kill her. She's so chummy with Martin up until she has to be a dramatic villain and I love that for her!
The ladder episode made me grin like a maniac manly because I would be the Martin in that situation. I love the feeling of falling/floating, but I hate actually getting myself to fall. I physically can't do it. I can barely dive into the lake from my papaw's boat
Martin, there are thousands of fanfics that dive into you two getting together without the trauma. Don't even.
NO JON THE PLAN
Hey, real elias! That's where him being a stoner comes from! Because he is one! Nice.
I love og Elias, and I would protect him with my life I don't care.
Oh wait it was just Magnus dreaming
JON NO THE PLAN FUCKING HELL
I almost cried when Martin was yelling at Jon. The boys are fighting
THE KISS HOLY SHIT ALEX SAKD THEY WOULDNT KISS THEY KISSED AH
They're somewhere else being happy and domestic now you can't change my mind
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reorientation · 10 months ago
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Hi, I’m the lesbian of 10 years who sent an ask a little while ago. Reading your reply made me feel really good. I’m smart and I tried not to do anything that was ill-advised, but I did something.
I’m still unable to stop thinking about being a dumb little girl who’s just kept barefoot and pregnant for a man. One day, the thoughts were so strong that I joined a website and I started talking to this man. Eventually I gave this man from the internet my phone number and we’ve been texting everyday.
He’s been telling me about how good I’d look pregnant, that he’d love to just keep knocked up, and breed me everyday. Yesterday all my mind could focus on was that I shouldn’t be at work, that I should be pregnant and at home serving him. I ended up texting him all those thoughts and then he started telling me how he was gonna turn me from a pretty femme lesbian to cock drunk. How if he was there he’d make sure his cock was buried deep inside me so he could convert my dyke pussy to worshipping his cock and filling it with his seed. He even said that once he got me pregnant that he’d show me off to all my exes, so I could show them I wasn’t a lesbian. Everything he said made me feel so good and it was the only stuff that would stay in my head! Then he even sent audios of himself saying stuff like that as he masturbated.
He told me from now on I have to tell him before I start playing with myself, and I agreed.
He had me send him audios of myself as I touched myself and begged him to get me pregnant.
I’m not really a brainless breeding bitch, but I since that night all I can think about is him and pleasing him. Being a lesbian has been such a big part of my identity but it’s starting to feel really wrong, like I should just let him breed me. It’s so confusing, I don’t want to give up my identity. I’m strong and independent lesbian, so why I am even thinking like this?
There’s really cheap flights right now and I could go see him, but that would be a really dumb idea, wouldn’t it?
-🌸💕
(A new tag just for you, little pink princess: ten year itch anon.)
A dangerous little slip, isn't it? Ten years as a gold-star lesbian, but when your head got full of pink thoughts about being brainless and bred, suddenly you became vulnerable to a man's words... and then started thinking too much about being vulnerable on a man's cock.
How did it feel, sweetheart, knowing that a man was spilling his seed while imagining it claiming your pussy? That he wanted to be inside you, releasing himself into you, getting you pregnant? Did it make you squirm in your seat? Did it make it easy to follow his commands and show him how you sound begging him to breed your gold-star cunt?
I'm sure you're not really a malleable little breeder for him, though. That would be so far to fall from your old life as a strong, smart, independent lesbian. Everyone would be so disappointed. Just imagine how everyone would look at your belly, a growing sign of your submission to a man.
But it's so much fun to pretend, isn't it? And it's harmless. So why not play one more game? Just buy that ticket. You can cancel it within 24 hours, so you won't even really spend any money on it. You'll just press the button and get desperately wet, thinking about how easy it would be to be bred.
And then you'll just cancel the ticket. You won't wait too long to decide, and even if you do, you certainly won't get on the plane with a fuzzy brain and an aching womb.
After all, you're smart, and that would be dumb.
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bokunosoul · 1 year ago
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Hiiii ur head canons are literally so good could u make an actual story for the undertaker one from ur “Black Butler men as cliché love tropes pt. 2” post?? It’s too good😏
Once upon a Victorian love story
AN : Oh god this request was like 2 years ago, im so sorry i had a writers block and an unmotivated self ): So i hope this long one shot will be acceptable.
Warnings : This was before undertaker becomes a funeral director, typo errors, reader is sent bac kin the 1800s, angst, past lovers au, abuse, messed up shit in the era, death, im using "adrian crevan" as undertaker's name for this au but it's not official yet (only a theory)
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I was sitting the the bus for what seems like eternity now. It was the day of the most awaited college fieldtrip for your history major, everyone is exempted in the finals. Except you need to join this trip and write a thousand words essay to pass.
“Hey y/n!” i turn my head to my friend Samantha who is my seatmate for this trip. "Just in time!" she was panting heavily and i sighed. She was always like this, a last minute go'er kinda girl.
A minute later the professor started doing a roll call for each students---everyone was present. After that the bus started hitting the road, i turn to the bus window and just grabbed my airpods on and listened to some music to pass time whilst watching the view.
Two hours later, we arrived at the outskirts of London. The road was getting narrow and narrow as it reaches the misty forest. Crows flock and squawked around the huge gate of the museum which gave off an mysterious aura at the place. Intriguing.
The huge rusty gate opens automatically and your classmates started filming the place as the bus enters the museum. It has amazing landscape and a castle-like exterior that was well maintained. It was amazing on how it was preserved for 150+ years.
"Ah, Mr. Brown! welcome! welcome!" an elderly man wearing a butler's outfit greets our professor. They seemed to be well acquainted with each other as they hugged each other.
Samantha drags me away in front of the students gathering which a tour guide was calling the attention of all the students. "Welcome to the Phantomhive museum students of the University of England! I am Oliver Smith your official tour guide for this trip." he says and continues making a speech on how about this museum is actually a manor back in the victorian era, where a earl used to live in.
The tour guide leads the steps to the museum and the huge oak doors were already opened, inside it was a floor filled with black and white marbled floor, Greek columns, ceiling decked with lighted chandeliers that made you look in awe, paintings hanged up on the wall on top of the dark oak grand staircase.
You followed the guide upstairs again, which led to a dimly lit hallway which the only light source is the windows. I took out my camera and took photos of several victorian artifacts to document and write about.
After that, the tour guide let us roam around the manor but gave off an warning on prohibited activities such as trespassing the locked rooms, touching the objects and a bunch of other stuff. I walked away and looked around which i ended up suddenly seperated from my friend.
Being bored, you decided to just wander around the museum. You suddenly felt a familiar presence, you stopped and look directly at the gigantic painting encased in gold on top of a fire place. There was a man whom dressed in black holding a scythe of death with a peculiar look of smile on his face and a woman on his side who seems to be in a casket laying beautiful in white.
You found yourself looking the the masterpiece intensely "She is beautiful as always even in her last breath." i turn to look at beside me, it was a man with ominous black hair, maybe a bit older than you and was wearing a butler outfit radiating an peculiar aura. Maybe he's another tour guide? i said to myself
I just stood there frozen feeling a wav of familiarity and longing whilst looking at the painting "Adrian Crevan, he used to be the lord Phantomhive's informant. Well, we prefer calling him 'Undertaker' because that was he's known for. Handling corpses and being a funeral director." the man chuckled, and he turns to look at you and smile.
I just stood there frozen, my mind started go hazy and a sharp pain came crashing in your head and unknown memories started coming back from the past.
It all turned black. That's what i remembered.
Somewhere in the 1800s. --------
"Lady y/n, it's time." my maid Laura says behind me. I sighed and turned around to see her holding a whale bone corset. I raised my arms and let her put on the garment which makes
It was my mother's funeral and i have no energy on whatsoever to dress up and even think right. You did not even need this corset anymore because you don't have the appetite to eat. After finishing on putting on the mourning dress and veil i went outside where my carriage was already waiting, with my father inside it.
He was stern looking as always, but behind that façade of his you knew that he was ecstatic. Afterall he lost all the dignity after taking your mother's last name which made him feel emasculated which resulted to him---having affairs, abusive and absent.
My mother was a weak woman, i must admit. She was bound to die before reaching the age of 40 due to her having pneumonia. Despite this, even when she was sick, she was the one guiding you throughout my childhood. When her body can't take it anymore i was getting guidance from my aunt who is my governess.
At just 37 years old before my 18th birthday, yesterday, she passed away peacefully at night. Right here you could not even cry and remain emotionless, all this was not easily to process in just one day. You were in denial.
I just stood there watching my father shed crocodile tears at his speech on how my mother was a loving wife to him and a bunch of other nonsense that happened to them that did not even happened.
Everyone else was crying pathetically. She was born to die, why would anyone be this surprised? An hour later after the mass, your mother's coffin was brought to the cemetery to lay rest beside her late parents grave.
You just watch it get dumped in with the soil and the mourners throwing a white rose as it gets buried. I walked off as i threw the flower on it. My body felt heavy as i feel my tears started swelling in my eyes and i took off running to hide in the cemetery's nearby garden.
I started hysterically crying eventually falling down on my knees whilst clutching a portrait of my late mother. You could only thank the rain and thunder for now as no one can hear your wailing.
"My, my why is a lady doing here crying alone?" a voice mixed with teasing says. I turn around to see a man with long ash hair wearing a long black suit with glasses.
I sniffled and just wailed again and again until no tears started to come out of my eyes and i just sat on the ground numb from all of the pain while the man just stared at you blankly.
You started getting pissed off as he stares at you "What is your problem, why are you staring!?" i growled at him, he laughs and mumbles an explanation that you could not understand and i stood up and stormed away.
He grabs your hand and gives you something out of his pocket which seemed like a chain. I turn to him and opened my palms. My eyes widened at the sight "T-this!...."
"Your mother asked me to give this to you as a keepsake." the man says, his face stoic. Meanwhile i looked at the locket with my late mother's hair on it emotionally and smiled. Your father did not allow you to keep a memory of your mother, hence burning down all of the photographs, paintings, letters and clothes---every memory of your mother's existence.
The man started walking away "S-sir! wait!" i stopped him. He stops and turn around "W-what's your name?" i asked him stuttering. The man smiled "Adrian Crevan, the grim reaper." he says nonchalantly in a silly way that made you chuckle.
"Thank you, Mr. Adrian the grim reaper...?" i jokingly said while wiping my tears and bow at him in respect. He nods before walking away. You secretly hoped that you see each other again.
Two months later you started healing from the passing of your mother and going out more to balls that your invited too.
I stepped out of the carriage and twinkled at the sight of the beautiful mansion in front of me which belonged to the Duke who is part of the royal family. I stood in line of the guests infront of the door who are waiting for their names to be announced.
"Lady y/n of house l/n!" i thanked the man and stepped forward inside the hall wearing my lavish green silk ballgown and curtsied. Every woman stared me with envy, meanwhile men stared at me with lustful eyes.
This was normal since i was not betrothed to anyone at the moment and married men are taking advances with me to take me as their bride or mistress.
I greeted them respectfully but declined them, it was tiring. Honestly.
I found myself surrounded by women flaunting their riches at me. I wish I'd be deaf right now, it's annoying. You slipped away from them and took an glass of champagne from the table and walked towards the empty halls of the mansion just admiring the moonlight outside of the window. I flinched when i suddenly heard an loud thud near the empty grand staircase in the 2nd floor.
I walked towards where i heard the noise. You held your breath as you saw a young woman's body down the stairs, her head has pool of blood forming, and eyes in shock. I held my mouth as i saw the scene. I could not even move, i was frozen from my spot.
A man then appeared from the scene all dressed in black suit, long ash grey hair and glasses holding a scythe. I recognize that man! he was that peculiar guy from your mother's funeral that gave the locket!
He glanced at you but doesn't seem to care and just slashed the dead woman's body. I closed my eyes firmly at the sight. I took a bit of a peek, but instead of seeing a more bloody scenes it was different.
It was like a cinematic record, but not a movie---but someone's memories in their point of view. It continued on forever and ever until it reaches the end of the tape which has the word 'END' on it.
The reaper looks at you curiously "Why aren't you running away my lady?" he asks and folds the cinematic record neatly and put it into his pocket.
I was left speechless, am i going crazy?
"W-what just happened?" I gulped and he rests his scythe on his shoulders "I just reap people souls my lady, im what you called---death." he stated and grabs your waist swiftly and once you opened your eyes you were floating in the sky gracefully.
"Oh god! this is unsafe!" i screeched and held on to him tight not looking down on the ground since you're afraid of heights. A few moments in floating in the air you both landed on the ground.
He chuckled "Humans like you are really interesting, it's been a while Lady y/n~" he commented and kissed my hands, which made me blush. The man smiles at you and you two sat in an empty bench.
"w-WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" i asked, still in shock and shook the man, he started laughing "You just saw me doing my 'job' and flew!" h e replied.
I hold my head to process on what just happened, maybe i'm just too drunk? I asked him all of my questions on who, what, where, when and why---all of the possible questions. Well that lead to you to getting more interested in each other that birthed to friendship of a human and grim reaper.
Then a relationship a few months later.
You and Adrian are both happy with each other. Every after he finished his job you two would secretly meet up. He would tease you all the time and brought you on top of the big ben at London on a full moon to have a date. The man was also a clingy person who likes to see humorous stuff all the time. Even if he's not a normal person that doesn't stop you both, but this is the day you will finally introduce him formally to your father.
He was ecstatic and positive as you two both enter your manor to greet your father the Lord of house l/n.
"Father, meet my significant other Adrian."
Your father looked at him sternly and was silent, he just sat there and eat his roasted duck.
"F-father did you not he----." he threw the cutlery directly at adrian's face, making him bleed. The grim reaper did not flinched, not feeling any pain as the knife gashed his face leaving a slash "W-What have you've done!" i screamed as i took out my handkerchief and held it on his bleeding face.
"Did i not tell you to not go whoring off with lowly men like your slutty mother! YOU ARE A SHAME TO THE HOUSE OF L/N!" my father raises his voice making you flinch and your eyes swell up with tears.
"Y/n, i'm okay." the man stood up and frowns unamused "I can' t believe a man like you became my future wife's father." he says disappointed and held you close as his face was still bleeding.
"Future wife? are you joking!? Y/n you will get married to Lord Wallace in 5 months! are you crazy!?" father yells "I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY SOMEONE I DONT KNOW AND LOVE FATHER!" i retaliated and walked towards him sobbing.
Adrian stares at you in shock and pulled you away from your father who is forcing you to go inside your room.
"A-adrian...i don't want to marry someone else..." i sobbed in his arms and he clenched his jaw hugging you tightly. It was painful. I don't want this to end.
The last thing you knew was you two hugging on what seems like an eternity, you two both crying. He let's go of your hand and tried to chase after him but failed as your servants stop you chasing after your love.
He just walked away just like that. He just walked away on our relationship. He promised that he will come back after me. Determined. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks. turned into a month. Then five.
I found myself wearing my wedding gown holding a bouquet of white roses whilst emotionlessly walking down the aisle.
He promised that he will love me. He promised that he will marry me when the time comes. He promised that we will run away together. He promised...
It was painful kissing another man. Just get through it, and i imagined that my love was the one i was marrying. But it was harder than i thought. Disgusting. It was disgusting on how this man look at you like a doll full of lust.
'Ten years have passed. I still haven't gotten over my greatest love. I sometimes wonder on what if he came back to me. I'm turning 29 now, i have 2 boys now and a little girl whom i gave birth to just two months ago. Well, life was not easy, my husband was a good for nothing like my father who is a scandalous and greedy man who brought multiple women in our home. I still have hope that we will meet each other again.'
I closed my diary and hid it on my drawer. I hear my daughter, Adie crying in her crib. I quickly took her out from the crib and carried her to stop her from crying.
"Shhh, don't cry.." i kissed her rosy cheeks and laid her to the crib again admiring my precious child.
I sighed and went to get dressed to go to another soiree that my husband was at to accompany him "Lady y/n, your carriage is ready." the maid said behind the door. I grabbed my mink coat and went to the carriage.
It seems that it was raining heavily outside. I hope it's just rain.
"Mama where are you going?" your eldest son Andrew asks "Could we go with you mama?" Allan chimes in, my second eldest. I kissed their cheeks "I will go accompany your father at the soiree, my darlings. Children are not allowed."
They groaned and whined at your reply. You bid them goodbye and entered the carriage. Your husband was already inside and has his eyes glued onto the window, this was normal and doesn't even surprise you anymore.
The rain was getting heavier and heavier as minutes have passed. The carriage has entered the steep road on the way to enter the Druitt estate where the soiree will be held. It suddenly came into a halt when you the carriage stopped and the coachmen screamed in horror. I stared at the window and it was a group of masked bandits.
Wallace, my husband opens the window "Oi! why the fuck did you stop were going to be late!" he scolded the coachmen. Bang! Bang! the bandits shot the coachmen and footman. I held my breath and ducked my head, scared. I look over to Wallace and he was in fear.
The leader of the group comes over at my side "Lord Wallace eh? your wife is a beautiful woman!" he pulled your chin to your chin. I looked over at the man, disgusted while crying.
"H-how dare you kill Mr. Clark and jameson!" i raised my voice looking over at the bloody corpses of our two servants. "TAKE HER! SPARE ME SIR!" my eyes widened as my husband pushes me over at the bandit and took off with one of the carriage horses. I stared at the man in horror "Your husband really is a coward you know?" he chuckled and drags you outside of the carriage in the pouring rain.
BANG! The leader shot your husband through the head with his pistol. His body dropped dead on the mud and the horse he was riding gallops away into the forest.
"W-why? why are you doing this--" you felt a sharp pain in your chest as the man looks at you smirking and twisting the dagger in you. All you can see is blood soaked in your pink dress, the bandit snatches your jewelry in your body as you stared at him emotionless. He took out the dagger out of your chest and pushes you off the wet ground.
This is how will i die huh? What about my children.....my ambitions....my Adrian....i want to see him one last time..
"Y-y/n..." a familiar voice says. My eyes widened at the sight, i struggled to speak up words, i wish i could tell him how much i have missed him dearly, how i long for him.
He still looked the same as ever. Handsome, even with the scar your father left him in your face. I weakly flashed a smile at him as he hold me close in his embrace, sobbing.
"I....i-i....love..you..so...much..."
She speaks up holding his face, i leaned to him close and our lips met. For one last time on what seems like an eternity that you wished that could continue forever. The woman closes her eyes smiling peacefully as the cinematic record started playing.
He hugs her close sobbing under the rain angrily. He hates this. You and him were lovers, you were both forbidden to each other. If only he was a human.
-----------------------------------------------
I opened my eyes slowly "W-what happened?" i asked and turn to my friend, Samantha. She looks concerned at you "Y/n you collapsed at the 2nd floor, Mr. Brown found you and took you to the museum's clinic." Samantha sobbed and held your hand.
"I think im okay now, i want to go rest in the bus." i said and stood up from the bed, your friend nods and guides you to go back to your bus seat outside.
As you were going down the stairs Mr. Brown approaches you "Ah, Miss Y/N are you doing fine now?" he asks, i nodded and thanked him profusely for his help. He smiles devilishly and grabs something out of his pocket and gave it to you.
I looked at my hand. It was a locket, with a picture of you beloved and me.
"Memento mori, remember you must die."
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A/N : I might revise this if i had the time, this was so rushed since i was so excited in posting these.
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thegeminisage · 2 months ago
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okay it's star trek update time. saturday we watched voy's "demon" and "one" and last night we did voy's "hope and fear" and ds9's "tears of the prophets."
demon (voy):
this one was so fun. i kept yelling THE GOOP IS ODO and it wasn't ofc but it was fun to imagine
a y class planet...i feel like we only ever see m class...this was very exciting
always exciting when they break out the space suits too
the ship landing is so silly and ridiculous. only slightly less ridiculous than the saucer splitting from tng
for a few minutes there i thought we were gonna have the tom paris/harry kim version of 2.25 resolutions. like because they could only breathe the planet's air. really really really funny
i love that the solution was to just let them clone everybody. imagine after voyager leaves and you can choose any crewman and all the little slimes want tuvok so you just have a bunch of tuvok slimes running around. 10/10
one (voy):
MY GIRL SEVEN....................
this one was soooososososo good
first of all, wtf at chakotay like talking to janeway about her bond with seven...that was gay as hell
i loved also she and the doctor eventually getting tired of each other. their scenes are so funny because they're both really autistic but in different directions
i love also when she gets put through the fire and succeeds...there is nothing she can't do. she really ran that whole ship on her own WHILE HALUCINATING i'm so proud of her
how clever to kind of leave it up in the air whether or not that guy was real, also. i went back and forth on it a few times and finally landed on not real only second before the reveal
her dream about being alone in the snowy tundra...damn. she like hates other people but also hates being alone. what a way to be
hope and fear (voy):
i had to physically pause this one multiple times to collect myself re: janeway/seven
the holodeck game. the argument where they both hit below the belt. the bit in the brig where they reference the first thing that happened in the brig and janeway had to touch seven's little eye thingy in the soft mood lighting wwwwow
i think the ethical dilemma here was a little silly though. like, my guy, you were banking on the ruthless guys who were stronger than the borg and also wanted to eat everyone else for lunch on helping YOU? like everybody say thanks janeway for getting rid of something even worse than the borg! not fuck you janeway for not letting the borg get killed by them
idk. i don't see that she did anything too awful. she sent them back home and saved them from the borg and saved the borg from them and then also got her people thru borg space AND got a gf out of it. leave her alone
i did like all the stuff about intuition vs borg knowledge though...janeway and her intuition remind me of kirk, but janeway and seven both fighting in the brig and then making up in the brig (complete with the touching) is very spones bread and circuses of them.
tears of the prophets (ds9):
man, sorry to say this, but...this script sucked bad. i dont think avery brooks is capable of phoning it in but we probability saw him get pretty close here. that final monologue, which should have ben about dax and was instead about the prophets, was poorly written
and dax's last words being about a baby - come on.
and kira and odo's argument - he is not so stupid he would do this without expecting her to be mad
and the scene between dukat and damar...where was the tension?? crazy dukat great but he's been better
even the thing with quark and bashir moping around in the holodeck because of dax was bad on paper
like, all of these things were saved (well, some of them were saved) by admirable performances from a charming and talented cast, but whew! like, julian looked so sad this became funny. kira and odo kissing to make up was so charming i forgave the premise
but dax's death was a bad death and her final arc being about a FUCKING baby was really sexist. sisko leaving not sure if he is coming back bc of some prophet thing right when bajor needs him most seems ooc. and his monologue to dax not being ABOUT. DAX. was a crime. poor terry farrell.
overall s6 has been great so far aside from a couple of bumps but man did it end on a sour note. i have heard season 7 is divisive so i guess we will see!!
TONIGHT: ds9's "image in the sand" and "shadows and symbols."
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