#in omnia paratus

[my-emily-gilmore-era]

Carole Bishop, aka Kelly Bishop at Luigi’s Dance Studio, NYC, circa mid 1960’s.

Yes, that’s THE Emily Gilmore.

[kikisloane]

Happy Friday!

[didanawisgi]

In Omnia Paratus

[crisiss17]

Home<3

Stars Hollow - Gilmore Girls 🍂

[gracesaysyes]

perhaps this is too much to tell, but i dream of having a secret society with some of my closest friends and enemies. staging fake murders in certain time periods and reading old books or plays aloud, drunk on something not quite legal. smoking from cigars and telling stories that should not be told in a parlor. everyone sleeping near each other on the floor because the historical house we’ve rented is far too expensive for only a few of us to stay, and partially because we are too afraid of the things that we’ve convinced ourself linger in the dark. but finally barely talking to one another in public, only sideways glances and brushes of the hands to pass a note of tonight’s adventures.

[newlullabies]

Vintage Inspired Gilmore Girls Posters by WindowShopGal on Etsy

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Happy Birthday Paige Huntzberger! (June 13th)

Tag List: @airwolf92 – want to be added?

[jojoblessed365]

Just thinking as to if I'd meet any of the members of the Life and Death Brigade, how I would react at first glance, and all I can think of is this, especially if they were wearing those God awful gorilla masks:

[obsessingoverl]

Life and death brigade vibes right here

Random worldbuilding: A culture that has a specific item of clothing/accessory that can be worn in a number of ways, and each way has a specific message to it, which everyone knows and respects. For adaptability, let's say it's a scarf - worn one way when one is having a nice day in general, but tied over the shoulder in the opposite way when there's spectacularly great news that this person is dying to gush to somebody about. Pulled over the head in a way that obscures the face informs people that this person is in no mood to see people and does not want to interact with anybody. Just this standarised way to express one's situation or intentions.

Kind of like one can wear a necktie around their neck to inform the people around them that they are a serious professional here to conduct business. And one can wear the same necktie around their head to inform the people around them that they are drunk and here to conduct tomfuckery.

[remarkist]

Alan Loayza joined us to watch all of his episodes last June during a great Gilmore Girls rewatch, and we learned a lot of filming insider facts such as this. 🧠 🎬 We don't know about you, but we are certainly ready for anything!!

Find more content in our magazine: mag.remarkist.com

[my-emily-gilmore-era]

Kelly Bishop as ‘Sheila’ in the original cast of A Chorus Line on Broadway, 1976.

[ahb-writes]

"You think you can wage a decent war? Bullshit."

"Tanya" (The Saga of Tanya the Evil #8 by Carlo Zen)

[writers-potion]

List of Interesting Latin Phrases

A list I made just to satisfy my vain cravings for resonating mottos for a secret society I'm working on. Enjoy!

abi in malam crucem: to the devil with you!

ad astra per ardua: to the star by steep paths

ad augusta per angusta: to honors through difficulties

aegis fortissima virtus: virue is the strongest shield

amor vincit amnia: love conquers all things

animo et fide: by courage and faith

arbitrium est judicium: an award is a judgement

aut mors aut victoria: either death or victory

aut vincere aut mori: either victory or death

bello ac pace paratus: prepared in war and peace

bibamus, moriendum est: let us drink, death is certain (Seneca and Elder)

bonis omnia bona: all things are good to the good

cede nullis: yield to no one

cito maturum, cito putridum: soon ripe, soon rotten

consensus facit legem: consent makes law

data fata secutus: following what is decreed by fate (Virgil)

durum telum necessitas: necessity is a hrad weapson

dux vitae ratio: reason is the guide of life

e fungis nati homines: men born of mushrooms

ego sum, ergo omnia sunt: I am, therefore all things are

pulvis et umbra sumus: we are but dust and shadow

quae amissa salva: things lost are safe

timor mortis morte pejor: the fear of death is worse than death

triumpho morte tam vita: I triumph in death as in life

tu vincula frange: break your chains

vel prece vel pretio: for either love or for money

verbera, sed audi: whip me, but hear me

veritas temporis filia: truth is the daughter of time

vero nihil verius: nothing is truer than the truth

vestigia nulla restrorsum: foosteps do not go backward

victus vincimus: conquered, we conquer (Plautus)

sica inimicis: a gger to his enemies

sic vita humana: thus is human life

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

Reference: <Latin for the Illiterati: a modern guide to an ancient language> by Jon R. Stone, second edition, 2009

[street-smarts00]

in omnia paratus

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer's been on the fence with his feelings for you. Due to his past traumas he’s decided to keep his feelings hidden. Until you’re caught in a dangerous situation at work

WC: 3.5 k

A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long. I’ve been sitting on this for two months because I was being a perfectionist and had writer's block. Thank you so much to the person who requested this idea and I hope ya’ll like it! beta read by @whats-yesterday00

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Protective!spencer, Friends to lovers, age gap (25 and idk 33 or 34), during season 9 (sadly no post prison Reid, I refuse to watch the show after Derek & Hotch leave), Maeve is implied 

Warnings!: mentions of murder, stalking, gunshot wounds, hostage situation and incorrect info about hostage situation cause Idk I'm not in the FBI

Everyone knew Spencer Reid had a soft spot for you. Well, everyone except for you. 

Since the moment you met you’ve been on his mind. 

“Do you know how old she is?” 

“No, how old is she?” 

“25!” Penelope squeaked before being shushed by Rossi. 

“Wow, she’s gotta be the youngest person to ever be in the BAU. Well, second to genius over here,” JJ commented while pointing to Reid. 

“That’s if she gets the job,” Morgan added. 

They were all crowded around the desks in front of Hotch’s office. The blinds were cracked and they could just barely make out the woman seated across from their boss for an interview. 

Due to the increase in caseload after Alex joined, Hotch made the request to add an additional member of the team. After interviewing a few people that didn’t pan out, he heard quite a bit about you from your supervisor saying how well you’ve done with the FBI and you’d be an exceptional fit for the team.

Then of course Penelope looked up everyone who was interviewing with Hotch. You being her most recent victim. 

“How long has she been with the FBI?” Alex questioned. 

“Three years,” Penelope answered 

“What? Did she join right after college?” 

“Not right away. She graduated early and got experience with law enforcement first.” 

Spencer sat at his desk quietly while everyone was peering into Hotch’s office. Not to say he wasn’t nosy as well. You were already behind the blinds when he arrived for work. 

“Oh they’re shaking hands! That has to be a good sign,” Penelope cheered. 

Morgan turned to the window, “It’s definitely not a bad one.” 

Her eyes widened before loudly whispering, “Oh no they’re leaving. Disperse.” 

She scurried off in her heels towards Derek’s desk while he followed behind with a grin. JJ, and Rossi averted their eyes from Hotch’s office and found Alex’s desk far more interesting. 

All while Spencer’s attention was brought to the woman led down the stairs by his boss. It felt like his heart stopped beating when he saw how beautiful you were. He was brought back to earth as Hotch introduced you to the rest of the team. 

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he gestured to the man sitting at his desk. 

You offered him a small wave and a kind smile, “Nice to meet you.” 

It became quite obvious you two would get along very well. From very early on conversation flowed incredibly well between the two of you. There were very few people that he felt were easy to talk to because of his niche interests and the way he would ramble spitting facts left and right. 

But he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much with you. You often were a content listener or you would even match his passion on certain subjects. Most were topics Spencer already knew about. 

When you first met Spencer you didn’t know the Dr in his name meant he held 3 PhD’s or that he was quite literally a genius. 

So you were often telling stories or facts you found interesting that he already knew. In fact, almost every “fun fact” you brought up, he knew about already.  

But he never interrupted you. He always was listening intently to what you had to say. Like he was hearing about it for the first time. 

At some point you learned of his eidetic memory and how vast his knowledge was. It was during a case where you found out and mentioned it to him. 

“Reid, remember when we were at the harbor and I mentioned that thing about sharks?” You hesitated, “did you know that already?”

“Yes,” he guiltily admitted. 

You partially deflated suddenly feeling that the whole tangent you went on was pointless. “Why did you let me go on and on if you already knew?” 

His eyes softened, “because I wanted to hear you talk about it.” 

That was when his feelings started to peek through. As the months went on it only grew and grew. And you were none the wiser.

To the average person, it might not seem like much. Perhaps you were just good friends. But to a team of profilers (and best friends) it was painfully obvious. 

It was almost painful the way he looked at you with a longing in his eyes. Or when his gaze immediately turned to you to catch your reaction or smile. 

It was obvious by the way he found any excuse to bring you up in conversation. Or how in conversation with you he would mirror your mannerisms and lean closer to you. 

As well as the things he remembered about you or the little things he did for you. Like the countless coffee cups he bought for you from his favorite coffee shop before work. And when he saw you struggling to find something or open something he was always right there to help. 

Spencer Reid had feelings for you. Feelings so deep that he couldn’t pull the roots out even if he tried. 

He didn’t know what to do with his feelings exactly. He hadn’t felt this strongly for someone since … well for a while. He was terrified of history repeating itself. 

He couldn't lose you. He’d seen first hand what this job did to him, what it did to Hotch. Their loved ones ripped away from them too soon.

So for now at least, he kept his feelings to himself. 

Well, until your last case. 

The BAU was called in on a case that just turned serial. They found the unsub to be a man named Mark, who started killing because his girlfriend cheated on him. The first two victims reminded him of the man she cheated with. When that didn’t satisfy him, he hunted down and killed the other man. 

Now the team and SWAT was stationed outside a bus that Mark was holding hostage. He stalked his ex-girlfriend and tracked down the new city bus she took. 

The officers couldn’t get a clear shot of him because of where he was standing and he kept using the passengers as shields. Rossi was currently on the phone with him trying to make negotiation terms and get some of the people off the bus. Mark however was incredibly stubborn and didn’t want to let his leverage go. 

So Rossi asked about the children on the bus and if Mark would be willing to let them off. They were met with silence on the other end of the phone, contrary to his previous behavior where he loved to hear himself talk. 

After a short pause the phone spoke. “I’ll only send out the kids if you send in an agent.” 

Rossi shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Are there any other circumstances you’re willing to send out the children for?” he asked. 

“Nope,” he said with a pop at the end of the word. 

A look of concern was quickly exchanged between Rossi and Hotch. While their faces didn’t reveal much, their eyes spoke volumes. 

“How about this,” the unsub continued. “I’ll send out their moms too.” 

Rossi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the eagerness to comply from the criminal. “You’ll send out the children and their mothers if we send in one of our agents?” 

“I promise.” 

Rossi returned his eyes to Hotch who stood rigid and tall with his arms folded. He was met with an approving nod before returning to the call. 

“Alright, we can agree to those terms.” 

“Oh and agent Rossi?” Mark perked. 

“Yes?”

“Send in a girl.”

There was a tension that quietly branched out between the agents listening to the phone call. 

“Why do you want a woman?” Rossi asked, clearly changing the dialogue used.

“I’m losing too many ladies sending out these moms. I want one back,” he replied with a cockiness to his voice. 

Ross confirmed they could send in a female agent. Almost immediately after the unsub hung up, you volunteered to be the agent going on the bus.  

“I’ll do it.”

Spencer’s head shot in your direction. “No you're not.” His voice was laced with concern and a hint of demand.  

“Reid-”

“He specifically asked for a woman. We don’t know what he’s planning, he’s devolving.”

“And I’m willing to take that risk to make sure those kids are safe,” You defended yourself. 

You turned to your boss waiting for his thoughts. Hotch knew you’d been exposed to enough high tension scenarios to know what you were doing. But just like any member of his team, he silently hesitated, worrying for your safety. 

He took a breath before meeting your eyes again. “Send her in.” 

Right before you were led to the bus, Hotch took off the holster on his ankle and handed it to you. “Some extra protection in case something happens.” You couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, but you saw it clear as day in his eyes. 

You made your way to the bus and saw through the window Mark holding a gun to the driver and telling him to open the door. You stepped on and the doors closed quickly behind you. The unsub took a long look at you, panning up and down. 

“Well how about that. Aren’t you a beauty? He said with a cheeky grin. 

You tried your hardest not to look disgusted with him. Instead you kept your composure and spoke with courage and a confident demeanor. 

“You this flirty with all your hostages?” you asked plainly.

As he gazed down at your legs his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He bent down and with the gun in his hand, pushed away the bottom of your pants leg. When he saw the gun in the holster, he tsked. 

“You always carry this much dead weight on you?” 

He stood back up and put his hand out, “hand it over, I told them no weapons.” 

You reluctantly took off Hotch’s holster and placed it in the unsubs hand. Your one line of defense was gone. 

The longer you were on the bus, the more anxious Spencer got. He knew you were an exceptional profiler, and you had enough experience and skill to handle yourself in situations like this. 

But that couldn’t stop the ache in his stomach or the fact that his heart rate could power a car by now. 

He stood closer to the bus now to get a clearer view of the windows. They managed to successfully get the children and moms off and to safety, but you weren’t safe. Spencer figured you were trying to negotiate with the unsub, but that was going nowhere. This was confirmed when Rossi tried calling him again but every call was ignored. 

This unsub was stubborn as hell. He knows he trapped himself, but didn’t want to back down. At least he didn’t want to go quietly. 

Spencer was talking with the rest of the team trying to devise a plan when the gunshots were fired. The team immediately ran back to the cacophony on the bus. 

More shots were fired, he didn’t know where from. He didn’t care. 

He just needed to get to you. 

When he got a decent view through one of the windows that hadn’t shattered he saw you. Your hand over arm in pain but still standing in front of the civilians to protect them. The unsub stalking over to you, gun in hand and smacking you over the head with it. You slammed against the chairs and fell to the floor. 

Spencer's face paled. He swore he was going to throw up. 

Through the fog of his mind Spencer saw Morgan escorting Mark off the bus, his hands now behind his back in cuffs. 

He rushed past them, clambering through the door and up the stairs to get to you, calling your name. 

“Reid?” he heard your small tired voice through the crowd. 

He followed it to you, laying on the ground struggling to open your eyes and clutching your left arm. 

He crouched down to your level with a gentle hand on your uninjured arm. 

“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here,” he comforted. 

“My head hurts,” you mumbled.

His eyes softened, “I know. I think you might have a concussion, you need to go to the hospital.” 

You slowly started to fade out of consciousness. Spencer’s heart dropped and his hand moved from your arm to your face. 

“No no no no stay with me okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Stay with me sweetheart,” he consoled.

Your eyes stopped struggling to stay open and finally made their close. His other hand rushed to your pulse point as he called for a medic.

Time seemed to stand still while Spencer sat next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. He couldn’t leave your side. He didn’t want to. 

You were okay. You were laying in the bed in front of him. But of course in his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios of how things could’ve gone worse, how things could’ve gone better. What would’ve happened if you didn’t have your gun taken away, or if the unsub got angry that you tried to bring a gun in. What if he didn’t lose his cool and start firing. What if you never went inside in the first place. 

And with all of those possible scenarios, the same thought plagued him. 

He was wrong. 

Before he was too scarred from past traumas to reveal just how much you meant to him. Not wanting to repeat the past and lose yet another person he loved cared for. 

But now, after seeing you in danger right in front of him, now he was terrified at the thought of you never knowing. He was now more scared you would never know how much he loved the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. How he thought the sound of your voice could cure any ailment he had. How he admired your strength and desire to protect others. How you could light up anyone's mood by just being you. How he could listen to you for hours, even if you were lecturing him on things he’d known like the back of his hand.

To him it was a whole new experience hearing it from you. 

Spencer was pulled from his thoughts as you stirred awake. He saw your eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights ahead. He quickly got up to dim the lights for you. 

When he returned to his seat you smiled at him, “hi.” 

“Hi,” he smiled back.  

“How are you feeling?” 

You sighed. “Like shit,” you complained with a hint of humor. 

“The doctor said you have a minor head injury, bruised ribs, and the shot to your arm thankfully didn’t break any bones.” 

“Fun,” you said sarcastically. 

A moment of silence passes between you two. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. How do you casually tell your friend and coworker you have a crush on them? 

There is no casual way. 

“You called me sweetheart,” you broke the silence. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” 

You fidget with the blanket, “earlier, when I passed out on the bus. You called me sweetheart.”

He searches his mind for the memories of the day. When he finds the memory he realizes in the heat of the moment the term of endearment slipped out. 

He wasn’t aware you heard it. 

“I did,” he confirmed as his ears flushed.

“Why?” you asked curiously. 

He didn’t know how to tell you that he’s wanted to call you that for weeks now. So instead he settled with-

“It just … felt right.” 

“Oh,” you replied quietly.

Spencer tensed up at your response. 

“If I crossed the line-“ 

“No. Of course not,” you interrupted with a comforting voice. 

The corners of your mouth lifted and cheeks dusted pink. “I thought it was sweet. You don’t normally say stuff like that.”  

His heart warmed at your confession and a smile spread on his face. 

“You thought me calling you sweetheart was sweet?” he lightly teased.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

Your laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in your abdomen. You bit down on your lip and gripped the side of the bed in pain. 

The reality that you were injured on the job was rushing back to him. 

He licked his lips, his nervous unconscious habit. 

“I was really worried about you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he interjected. 

“The entire time you were on that bus I was sick to my stomach. Terrified that something bad was gonna happen and it did,” he started to ramble. 

You leaned closer to him. ”But I’m okay Reid.”

“You still got hurt. He shot you for christ sake!” his voice raising in pitch and volume. 

“Reid-”

“He lashed out at you! You could’ve died!” 

“Spencer,” you said firmly, pulling his attention towards you. 

He never heard you say his name before. No matter how many times he said you could call him Spencer, you still called him Reid. Hearing his name fall from your lips was like the consistency of honey.

You placed your hands on his face caressing his cheek. His golden eyes meet yours. 

“I’m alright. I’m still here,” you consoled. 

“But if-“

“Spencer.”

“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s important.” 

You nodded your head, signaling for him to continue. He gently grabbed your wrists and brought your hands in his. He took a deep breath before he decided to spill the thing that had been eating away at his heart. 

“I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. Almost as long as you’ve been at the BAU,” he started. 

With your hands in his he started tracing his thumb over your knuckles. 

“If we don’t have work I count down the days until I can see you again. When I do see you I desperately want to see you smile, see you happy. And if I’m the one that causes that smile, it makes my whole day. That’s why I never interrupted when you talked about something I already knew. The way your face lit up when you talked with such passion was the highlight of my day.” 

“For months I was scared of my feelings and I kept them to myself. I was too scared to admit how much I liked you because I-” his hold on your hands tightened.

“I know what it feels like to lose someone. This job takes so much from us; I never wanted it to take you.” 

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

“Today I realized it would be more painful if I went the rest of my life not telling you, than having even a fraction of a moment with you.”

A moment of silence danced between you two. Your head reeling from his confession, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your bones. Your palms sweaty from holding onto Spencers, but still neither of you let go. 

The silence was deafening, plaguing him. 

“Please … say something,” he begged. 

Your lash line was collecting tears that you simultaneously tried blinking away. Your eyes found his tie less intimidating than his gaze.

“I never thought you would like me back,” you said with a soft tone. 

Spencer's cheeks turned red as his heart started melting. “I do.” 

You brought your eyes back to his. That precious smile on his face was infectious. 

“Listen,” you squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. So you have as much time with me as you want.” 

Spencer's eyes softened at your words. He raised your hands and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles. 

The two of you were too lost in eachother to notice the footsteps towards the room. 

“Hey, I found some Jello for her if she-” Alex abruptly stopped once she noticed what she walked into. 

You both awkwardly pulled your hands away from each other; you fiddling with the hospital blanket, him rubbing his palms on his slacks. 

“So, feeling better?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Much,” you answered, still a bit flustered. 

“Good, good to hear,” She tried not to sound too smug, but the small smile on her face said otherwise. 

She raised and shook the jello container in her hand. 

“I’m gonna leave this here,” she placed it on the table. “I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Thanks Blake,” you thanked as she left. 

Once she was gone you quietly giggled and mumbled “oh my god,” under your breath. 

“You know, she kept teasing me asking when I was going to ask you out. And don’t even get me started on Morgan,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 

Your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed. “Did everyone else know but me?” 

He pressed his lips in a thin line, “pretty much.” 

“I must be a shitty profiler,” you half joked.

“Absolutely not,” he said in the most comforting voice. He brushed the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. 

“You’re an amazing profiler.” 

You smiled that smile he loved so much. The one where you couldn’t hide your joy and your nose crinkled. 

“So, how do you think you’ll spend all those moments with me?” you inquired with a bit of a teasing tone. 

“Doing anything sweetheart,” he answered seriously. He looked at you with awe written all over your face. “I'm ready for anything with you.” 

“in omnia paratus” - ready for anything

Tag asks: @adrienneleclerc @ladybirdbeetle7

[kaylasficrecs]

spencer reid recs - part 3

close to home | imagine, fluffy flangst | @reidrum

not expecting you to leave | imagine, flangst | @tlou-reid

what he knows | imagine, flangst, comfort | @luveline

guilt ridden | imagine, flangst | @reidmania

don't think i don't like you | one shot, fluff | @luveline

criminally hot | imagine, flangst | @kisses4reid

safe | one shot, flangst | @rynbutt

you know the killer doesn't understand | one shot, angst (slight fluff) | @nereidprinc3ss

protect you | imagine, flangst | @spencerlicious

meant to be yours... | imagine, flangst (more fluff) | @lostbo0

choose me, love me | imagine, flangst | @cookiescribble

healing hands | imagine, fluff, comfort | @mistiell

castling | imagine, flangst | @reidrum

not her | one shot, flangst | @reidmarieprentiss

playing with spencer's hair | drabble, fluff | deactivated blog

emergency contact | one shot, flangst | @vanteguccir

falling behind | imagine, fluff | @catssluvr

bracelet | drabble, fluff | @dylsluvrs

home | one shot, flangst | @auroralwriting

where we were meant to be | one shot, flangst | @reidmarieprentiss

you start to grow worried | imagine, flangst, comfort | deactivated blog

kiss, kiss, fall in love | imagine, fluff | @rumplereids

hearts aligned | imagine, fluff | @raekensluver

your wife, huh? | drabble, fluff | @julssreidd

something better | imagine, angst | @reidmarieprentiss

doodles | imagine, fluff | @catssluvr

kisses his forehead | imagine, fluff | @luveline

now i have to act like i can't read your mind | imagine, flangst | @pathologicalreid (tw)

movie night cuddles | drabble, fluff | deactivated blog

closet confessions | imagine, fluff | @smurphyse

actress' savior | one shot, flangst | @priniya

i wish i knew you wanted me | imagine, fluff (slight angst) | @irndad

heart-stopping | imagine, fluffy flangst | @dr-spencer-reids-queen

in omnia paratus | one shot, flangst (more fluff) | @street-smarts00

convenient | series | @kisses4reid

post it note | imagine, fluff | @reidmania

always, i'll wait | imagine, flangst, comfort | @pathologicalreid (tw)

burn notice | imagine, angst (slight fluff) | @pathologicalreid

angel | two shot, angst | @reidmoony-toast

touchy when drunk | imagine, fluff | @moonstruckme

hazardous materials | imagine, fluff | @pathologicalreid

nurse!reader | imagine, fluff | @luveline

touch starved | imagine, fluff | @foxy-eva

losing you | imagine, flangst | @pathologicalreid

blackout | imagine, fluff | @gghostwriter

wanted: a gentleman | series | @gghostwriter

one single thread of gold | one shot, fluff | @gghostwriter

[sailoryooons]

Lights | Episode 0 | jjk (m)

❀ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer! F. reader

❀ Summary: Meeting Jungkook was a chance of fate. A moment frozen in time, eyes meeting across a room full of lights. The more the two of you advance in your career, the more lost in the lights you become. What if you never find your way back?

❀ Word Count: 583

❀ Genre: Heavy angst, Idolverse, strangers to lovers, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Nothing really in this chapter, vague references to being a kid growing up in a competitive environment, reader being a little poetic about her childhood.

❀ Published: September 28, 2023

❀ A/N: Hola, in honor of 3D I decided to post the prologue of this thing I have been working on while on hiatus as a cool project to inspire myself to write again. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I am writing this story as though it were sort of a ... famous person tells all. 98% of the story will be in the present tense and we read it as if it's happening, with small interludes of present-day where reader is reflecting on her life in an interview with Namjoon. I have no idea if I will stick with it, so please be patient and let me write this at whatever pace works best for me. And remember - there are going to be very dark parts of this series, and Jungkook and reader both are going to have very ugly moments. If that’s not your cup of tea and you do not like to see characters epically fail and sometimes reveal the ugly parts of themselves, this fic is not for you. 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This series in no way attempts to paint a realistic depiction of idols, or the industry, or draw comparisons. None of the scenes or elements in this series in any way reflect how I perceive the music industry and do not represent any opinions as a whole. This is not intellectual commentary, it is just straight-up fiction. 

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“In omnia paratus. Ready for anything,” you scoff, shaking your head. “Seems like a pretty big ideal for a teenager. You have to understand, we all felt that way. A bunch of kids working for the same dream, ready to push, shove, claw our way to it.” 

Namjoon adjusts his glasses and nods. His long legs are crossed at the ankle as he leans back in his seat, the perfect picture of poise. His glasses are low on his nose and he’s dressed in a warm cardigan today to fight off the chill of Autumn. 

“Was it really competitive?” he prompts, fingers laced together. “What was that like?”

“It’s hard to say. I viewed it through the lens of a kid at the time. I guess to me it would have felt like a game - be better than everyone else, get a reward.”

“And now, through the lens of an adult.”

You heave a sigh and blow out air. You're in the comfort of your home up in the hills, a fireplace crackling to your left. The production crew thankfully didn’t fuss with your living room too much. It was perfect the way it was, muted tones and lived in, not some minimal, sterile space like Seokjin might have or the maximalist terror of Taehyung’s estate. 

“Now,” you venture, slowly stringing the words together. “I think it was where I learned to take no prisoners and to do whatever I had to do to win. Being that close to your dream, and meeting the legends you want to imitate while living in constant fear it might be taken away… it creates a feral desire in you. Feeds the monster inside the kid that has just started to wake up.”

“Would you say that’s where the hardship began?”

You shake your head. “Not the kind that we’re here to talk about. It wasn’t like - I wasn’t a child star, you know? I was still relatively normal. It was school and working on dancing and singing and all of these things because I wanted to produce music and it was hard, but it wasn’t… It wasn't cruel. It wasn’t dark.” 

“When would you say is when it first really started to turn for you?” Namjoon asks, leaning forward a bit. “The first moment you can remember that you might have taken that first step towards everything.”

“In omnia paratus,” you murmur again. You think about that night, gaze unfocused. You no longer see Namjoon, but rather a shock of shaggy, black hair, doe eyes filled with promise, and an arm full of tattoos. “Ready for anything but Jungkook, apparently.” 

Namjoon raises his brows. “So the night you met Jungkook?”

“In nihil paratus. I was ready for nothing, least of all the likes of fucking Jeon. That was the first night my management ever asked me to do something extreme. So I did.” 

“Tell me about that night, then.” 

You remember it so well. You’re not sure how out of all the memories, this one seems so preserved. Crystal clear and sharp at the edges. You remember the tight, white shirt Jungkook was wearing, tucked into dark jeans paired with boots. His tattoos were stark against his shirt and his hair was wavy, a little damp with sweat. 

Jungkook had looked at you from across the event floor, an ocean swimming with swaying bodies and flashing lights, cryogenic fog hanging in the air. You’d just walked in, careful not to trip in your stilettos as you walked down the steps. Nervous. Near cracking under pressure.

And then you looked up, right at those round, dark eyes. 

In nihil paratus. You were ready for nothing.