#it took me so long to finish this for that reason

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

[susicheng]

⋆.˚ i spy with my little eye — l.mk

this is an 18+ work. mdni secret agent! mark x secret agent! reader warnings: death + murder, guns, knives (not used between each other) contains: oral (f receiving, mentioned m receiving), safe sex, piv, mentioned fingering, tease! mark word count: 2376

assignments like this one were always the most irritating. shoved into a tight gown, too much skin visible to any of the rich douchebags surrounding you. a knife pressing against your thigh where it’s tucked into a garter belt discreetly. an earpiece hidden by the over-the-top updo drowned in gallons of hairspray. the sickening sweet scent of perfume lingering on your skin to appeal to the prey. 

the only consolation was knowing your agency wasn’t the only one with commissions for tonight. with this many wealthy men and women in one place, there had to be other targets beyond your own. though, you couldn’t help but hope that meant you’d see who you were really watching for.

that’s how these things always went. you kept an eye on the pig you were assigned to dispose of, and another on the man who erased their touches with his tongue and teeth.

it didn’t take long. you spotted the target before finishing your first glass of wine. so much for a pleasant conversation before enduring the leering glances and clumsy flirting from someone old enough to be your father.

time to play the game. with a final sip of wine and a subtle adjustment to your dress, you moved toward him. a smirk curled your lips as you approached, feigning a stumble to fall into his arms. his annoyance at first contact quickly melted into intrigue as he took in your fluttering lashes and too-innocent expression. you were in.

too many lingering touches, too many thinly veiled innuendos, and far too many explicit remarks later, he was convinced to “find somewhere more private.” by now, the powder slipped into his drink should have started working. his movements slowed, his steps unsteady as the two of you entered a private room.

the door shut behind you two. a hand slid to your waist, and then up, up, up. he didn’t hesitate to cop a feel before pressing his greasy hand firmly against your mouth. you felt the cold press of a gun barrel to your temple. 

“pretty young things like you only approach me for two reasons.” he hissed.

he cocked the gun.

“you either want me dead, or you want to be spoiled.”

“judging by this little thing…” he used the gun to push your hair behind your ear, tap, tap, tapping on the earpiece previously hidden beneath it. his voice lowered to a whisper. “you’re here for the first one.”

it wasn’t the first time a target had figured you out. honestly, it was refreshing that he realized attractive women don’t usually flock to men like him. not that it made him any less deserving of a bullet.

he didn’t get the chance to finish you. with a quick twist and a knee to the groin, the gun was yours, and he was on the floor. now, it was your turn to press the barrel to his forehead.

“you’re smarter than you look,” you sneered. “still slow, though. that wine wasn’t just alcohol, y’know?” 

his grin was sharp, defiant. his hand shot up your dress, pulling your knife from its hiding spot and plunging it into your thigh before you could dodge. instinct made you pull the trigger. 

the gunshot echoed, his blood painting your dress a deep burgundy. pain shot through your leg, the knife buried deep in the muscle. with an easy press to your earpiece, and a murmured “it’s done” you disconnected it and took a deep breath. you had had enough of people barking demands in your ear all night.

suddenly, the doorknob rattled. you raised the gun, limping toward the door. it opened, and a figure entered swiftly.

before they could react, you had them pressed against the wall, the gun at their temple, your arm pressing against their throat as blood dripped to the floor.

“jesus. i check to see if you’re alive and i get jumped!?” they rasped, hands scrambling to pull at your arm.

you stepped back immediately, recognition hitting you like a slap to the face.

“mark?”

his laughter filled the room as you pulled him into a hug.

“holy shit, mark. you scared the shit out of me. i thought i was about to get found out.”

his arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed you against him. you winced at the pressure it put on your thigh. mark pushed you back immediately, dropping to his knees and pulling your dress to the side from the slit in the long fabric.

“my god, you have an entire fucking knife in your leg! and you were still trying to put a bullet in my head?”

you had to say, the sight of him between your legs like that might have been doing something to your body, especially when his stern gaze met yours, making you inhale a sharp gasp. something in you tightened.

a disbelieved laugh echoed through the silent room. “no way you’re turned on right now. there’s a dead guy less than 2 feet from us and there’s a dagger sticking out of you. absolutely nothing is happening until you aren’t actively bleeding on the floor.”

you grumbled as he stood and lifted you into his arms easily, stepping over the corpse as he carried you further into the room, to the bed.

“y’know,” you said with a smirk, “you just said nothing’s happening, and now you’re carrying me to the bed. mixed signals, mark.”

he rolled his eyes as he gently laid you onto the plush sheets of a hotel bed too luxurious to be familiar with the stain of red seeping into it. 

the moment you opened your mouth to continue your teasing, mark decided to tug the dagger out of your leg, eliciting a loud groan of pain. somehow he had found a first aid kit. how, you’re not sure, but mark always had a trick or two up his sleeve. obviously, being in this field had caused both of you to pick up some life-saving medical tricks. his hands moved with practiced efficiency, stitching and wrapping the wound with care.

“all done,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the bandages.

your fingers tangled in his hair as fire lit in your eyes.

“you sure nothing’s happening?” you murmured, voice low and teasing.

mark sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re already down there… might as well finish what you started.”

you didn’t miss the way mark’s eyes fell to the thin piece of fabric separating himself from your core. when he met your eyes again, there was heat in his gaze. a subtle nod from you, and he was sliding your underwear down your legs, throwing the garment somewhere onto the hotel floor. 

he dove into you with an eagerness you were not prepared for, grip on his hair tightening as a whine slid out from between your lips. his tongue moved expertly, pressing every button he could to work you up. his arms adjusted to wrap around your thighs (careful to avoid pressing on your wound), effectively pinning you down. all of your squirming and hair pulling was futile as mark dove deeper and held you tight against his mouth.

your whimpers were increasing in frequency, hands tugging hard on his hair as you desperately tried to pull him away from his place between your thighs.

“mark— mark, wait.” you gasped. “mark— need you… inside. please”

just when your orgasm was about to crash into you, he pulled himself away, adjusting to kiss up and down your thighs instead. your whine, of relief and of annoyance at your denied pleasure, filled the room as he continued to happily mark up your inner thighs, your hands still attempting to pull him upwards and get a move on.

that was one thing about you and mark that was different. he preferred to take his time. he liked to take you apart, piece by piece. cover the touches of your targets with touches of his own. make your body forget that it had ever been defiled by anyone other than mark himself. you, though, were impatient. you hated begging for what you wanted. you preferred to get what you need without much trouble.

something about the way mark forced you to be patient, though, was undeniably attractive. working you up until all you could think about was him, and then giving you an orgasm satisfying enough to last until the next time a mission overlapped. you couldn’t help yourself from craving him 24/7, though, despite the fact that it would never be possible to pursue a relationship given your careers. for now, these spontaneous rendezvous were enough for you. 

with one final tug, after what felt like hours, mark relented and allowed himself to be pulled up your body. your lips finally met for the first time that night, your own taste lingering on his tongue. 

“get inside of me. now.” you pulled him down further to whisper in his ear, delighting in the groan it earned from him.

“condom?” you sighed and reached into your bra, pulling the condom you had stashed there out and handing it to mark. the placement brought another smile of disbelief to his face, shaking his head as he unzipped his dress pants.

you hadn’t really had the time to appreciate it fully, but he looked good in a suit. you let your eyes drag up and down his body, gaze lingering on his now exposed dick as he rolled the condom on smoothly.

“ready?” you snapped your eyes up to his, meeting the smug expression on his face with a roll of your eyes.

“mark, if you don’t get inside of me right now, i might grab that gun and put a bullet in your leg.” his laughter echoed as he busied himself with lining himself up to your entrance.

he slid in smoothly, bottoming out with twin groans escaping both of your mouths. this part was always surprising to you. every time you saw each other again, it felt like he had gotten bigger. pressing deep into every part of you. he barely had to angle himself to hit all of the spots that elicited loud moans from you.

his movements began slow, his kisses traveling down the side of your neck and over the exposed parts of your cleavage. he had always liked leaving marks on you, painting you in shades of purple and red that he scanned your body for even when it had been months since you had last seen him. his kisses turned sharper, teeth infiltrating and pulling on your skin, as he picked up his pace. your hands clawed down his clothed back, one sliding up to wrap into his hair and pull him back up to meet your lips. with the moans you were letting out, and the grin on mark’s face, there wasn’t much actual kissing happening. 

“you look really good covered in blood, by the way.” he gasped out against your lips, reminding you of the blood that had splattered over your entire body when you had shot the man still lying in the hotel room earlier.

stunned laughter sounded from your lips, morphing into a strained moan when one of mark’s hands slid down to press against your clit, the other arm working to hold himself up. 

it didn’t take long for you to get close. his tenderness as he treated your wound worked you up more than you would care to admit, and he worked you halfway to transcending into another dimension when he ate you out.

“mark— mark. i’m,” you subconsciously clenched down on him, hard, pulling a hiss from his lips. “i’m close. please.” 

he doubled his efforts, shifting down so his lips were brushing your ear as he spoke.

“yeah? go ahead. cum for me, pretty.”

the raspiness of his voice, his steady thrusts into you, his fingers abusing your most sensitive spot, all of it worked to push you easily over the edge, whimpering his name as he shuddered with you, flooding the condom with his own release. 

you panted against each other for a who knows how long, until mark pulled out and tied off the condom, throwing it into the trash can placed in the corner of the room. he pulled you up, ignoring your whines and complaints as he dragged you into the bathroom to wash up.

after a quick shower together, in which you got on your knees to repay the favor from earlier and mark thanked you by burying his fingers inside of you until your legs were so shaky he had to carry you out of the tub, you worked together to scrub at your bloodstained dress. you shot a message to your agency’s cleanup crew, providing them with a room number as you blow dried the expensive fabric of your dress. thankfully, most of the more noticeable splatters had been mostly washed out. the worst of it was on the torso.

mark handed you his jacket to wear over the dress, effectively hiding the evidence of your kill. you tried to be discreet when you inhaled his scent surrounding you, but you still heard mark bark out a laugh, shutting down any thoughts that you had succeeded at that.

this part was always the hardest. leaving the hotel room hand in hand, still bantering as you made your way to the lobby, where the party had mostly vacated by now. making excuses to stay together. 

“i’ll treat you to a quick dinner” led to “let’s just have a quick smoke break” which ultimately faded into “i’ll call you a ride. let me wait with you so i know you make it safely.”

getting into the car was difficult, mark leaving you with lingering kisses and promises gently whispered into your ear. 

it wasn’t until you made it home that you noticed it. casually reaching into your (mark’s) pocket, instinctively looking for your phone there (which was still sitting safely in your purse), you found a small slip of paper. a smile spread across your face as you took in the contents.

0802 127th street

if you ever get sick of rushed one-night stands, find me here :)

— mark

© susicheng .. please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work

mel yaps: this is my REAL 200 (now almost 300) follower special!! hope u all enjoy hehe.. fraktsiya mark has been clouding my brain for far too long i had to get it out of my system.

#: @f6llsun @i03jae @jeonghansshitester @holyhaech @chenlezip @mi1kteaa

[atlabeth]

(please) spare me indignity

pt 3

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

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

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

wc: 5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

“What are you, a broken record?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

“Are you just going to stand there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “Excuse me?” 

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

“Why not?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says. 

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

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

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

“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You, apparently.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” 

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

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

“Can I help at all?”

This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”

Again, more silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then open a window.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks. 

“Fine,” you say. 

He frowns. “Really?” 

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

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

“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.” 

“Am I not allowed to joke?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A couple spoonfuls but—” 

“Spoonfuls?”

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

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

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

“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do they have any leads?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not going to die.” 

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

“Then don’t say everything so seriously.” 

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

“Want one?” 

“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.” 

“You should.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He always notices your eyes.

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

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

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

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

Spencer sits up. “What is it?” 

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

“Who is it?” he asks. 

“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.” 

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

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. 

“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—” 

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

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

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

“...Some,” Spencer says. 

“Like?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hangs up without another word. 

[frozenjokes]

a new moon in the sun’s lonely system

convex week day 1 - sun/moon - next

Cub had always been sensitive to changes in temperature, he chilled easily, and he didn’t very much like company for a multitude of reasons, but it appeared today was his unlucky day.

It was cold. There was a moon around, maybe more than one. They had a pulsing sort of presence, fighting the heat of Cub’s star, and though ultimately dwarfed by it, a moon still left their mark. Well, whatever it wanted with him, it certainly wouldn’t find Cub just wandering around. Their silver frost stood out like a lone star in Cub’s domain, while Cub’s fiery orange blended right in with the rest of the landscape. Not to mention the cold. It wasn’t long before Cub found the inquiring soul.

“Hello-“ Cub didn’t even get to finish before the moon startled, yelling in a display of fright that was so exaggerated it couldn’t have been genuine. Cub pursed his lips, waiting for the moon to collect itself. He did not want to risk speaking lest the entity screamed again; Cub did not like the sudden noise.

“Well- Well hello there! Goodness gracious, you snuck up on me! I thought I was a goner!”

“Unless there are any new moon-eating predators roaming the skyscape today, I don’t think it’s untrue to say you don’t have anything to worry about.” Cub had to squint against the moon’s light, rather, his own light reflected back at him. Why was this one so bright? Cub didn’t think he recognized it, but with nearly three hundred in the system, who knew. Cub only remembered the names of the particularly annoying ones.

The moon laughed like Cub had said something legitimately funny, and it didn’t seem disingenuous, but still Cub felt his own walls climbing higher.

“Oh, this is great! I’m so relieved, I’ve heard bad things about- nevermind, you just seem like a perfectly nice guy! I’m Scar, newly promoted moon, and I thought I ought to trek out here and introduce myself!”

Ah, this made sense now. Moons didn’t typically come around to introduce themselves, even after recent promotions, but some were simply drawn to the sun. Or married to formalities, Cub supposed. Politely, Cub ignored that first comment, for the most part at least. He had a reputation to keep up. “You already know my name, then.”

“I do, but I’d love if you introduced yourself regardless!” Ah, married to formalities then.

“Well, if you intend on sharing all the boring, gory details of this encounter with your fellows, you can call me Cub.”

“Unfortunately, Cub, I have no fellows of which to share this with!” Scar’s voice took on an odd lilt, and Cub thought for a moment he might be making fun of him until the moon swiftly continued, “All alone, I'm afraid. A real shame! But it’s an important job, big deal, big deal, there’s all sorts of life down there on Earth that depends on me doing my thing!”

Cub made a valiant effort not to scoff, though given the light in his eyes, he was likely already scowling. The Earth moons were always the most obnoxious. Cub would miss the last one; she almost never visited, and what a reprieve that was, good grief.

Cub had nothing nice to say, so he said nothing. Scar seemed like he quite expected Cub to say something with that wide, wanting stare, but Cub didn’t want to say anything, he wanted Scar to go away and his sun to return to its proper temperature, he wanted to be alone, however, for a moon who had taken up one of the loneliest jobs in Cub’s system, Scar did not seem to share this ideal. A bad sign. A desire for company and an ego larger than Cub’s sun made for a disastrous combination in Cub’s quarters. If this moon was planning on bothering Cub often, he was going to have to start falling back on old tactics (hiding).

“You know, I don’t think you’re an asshole, you’re just like, really awkward.”

Cub blinked at him, slow, unthinking. “You’re mistaken.”

“No, you’re definitely awkward.”

“I’m mean.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“You’re not, really, you’re not,”

“I am mean!”

“You’re almost nice!”

“I am not nice!”

[malinowaj]

2024 fandom review

thank you for the tag @nerdyfangirl76 and @almostlake 💜

warning: this got really long

fics written

in 2024, i posted 3 finished fics and one currently on-going WIP. in total that was 122,542 words and i keep looking at that number in complete disbelief.

i started the year by saying, multiple times, i'm not going to write anything because it's been nearly a decade since i wrote for fun. then i had an idea and was all "well, maybe if i wrote this one short thing, posted it and then dipped never to be seen again". insert my friend laughing at me at regular intervals because we all know that's not what happened.

always losing to win is very dear to me, for several reasons, and it'll never stop blowing my mind how many people have read it and been on that journey with me.

fics read

my AO3 history is about 300 fics, but i did not sort out my logins until months into the year, so the actual number is probably somewhere closer to 350.

i tried to pick a few favourite fics i read and limiting myself to just these is hard. i regret to say none of these have received the praise, comments and love from me that they deserve, because it took me months to get over my comment shyness. but i hope this makes up for it a bit. (new year's resolution: more comments for everyone.) in alphabetical order by title:

almost is never enough by @in-amor-veritas

there's a scene in this with kent's 747 that i have the strongest, plot-wise most insignificant headcanon about and i think about it every time i hear the song. which is often. and then i end up thinking about the whole story.

another dose by stargazers

it's such a beautiful version of wilmon, because it's so them. and it's hot.

chasing our sunlight by fitz_y

if there ever was a fic that lives rent free in my head, it's this. the way it deals with so many heavy topics has made me cry, but it's such an incredibly crafted story i come back to it often.

forever i'm yours by @goldenwilmon

the way the fall in love in this one? hands down one of my favourites ever. whenever i need some fluff and happiness in my life, this is the one i go for.

little light by @unfortunate17

possibly one of the first, if not the first, wilmon fic i read in 2024. it broke something in me, but also healed something in me.

reckless abandon by @zee-has-commitment-issues

i absolutely love the concept and the way all the characters are so well-rounded. one of the fics i could not stop reading and can't wait to read again.

so loaded, eye low by @enjoythesilentworld

the chemistry, the angst. the sweet, delicious angst. and hot as hell.

where be left off by @gulliblelemon

the best way for me to fight some physical pain? some emotional pain. and this one has it, in the best, most beautiful way. very few fics have i devoured like i did this one.

the wolf comes home by @phneltwrites

after months, i still keep thinking about a particular line in this one. the trauma aftermath, the way they deal with it. also my favourite established relationship wilmon.

looking forward to in 2025

i can't wait to read and see all the amazing fics and gifs and edits and everything this fandom comes up with. i already know there'll be so many wonderful things i'll enjoy.

as for my own writing, i'm trying to get a good chunk of hope and legacy written before the insanity that'll be my life from late january to the end of february. (no context chapter 4 spoiler: simon steals a flag.)

there is also in from the cold, the espionage AU i have about 10K written for - and that's barely the beginning. i don't know if it'll ever see the light of day, but i do love the concept and all the research i've done for it.

i have been thinking about space wilmon lately, and while i said i'm not going to go down that road myself, i did remember a few lines from record of a spaceborn few that may have sparked an idea. it might become something one day, or it might never be more than the few disjointed lines and ideas i have typed in my notes.

there's also a file with a list of songs that i might want to build stories around. in general i have a lot of ideas, but very few of them might become anything. i'd like to put it down as "english is not my first language so writing is slow" thing, and while it is that too, it's mostly me being a perfectionist and not able to let go. (which is why i should probably have a beta telling me 'this is fine, go post it'. if anyone feels up for doing that...)

the biggest, warmest thank you to everyone who's read anything i've written, left kudos or comments, sent messages, in any way engaged. it has made my year, and this fandom experience so special 💜

not tagging anyone, but if any of the authors i mentioned haven't done this yet and would like to, i'd love to read your reviews.

[vampire-cupid]

🍋‍🟩

What if the reader with a fresh law degree goes into working for the Washington’s on their legal team, looking over contracts and paperwork for the many films and tv shows the company’s involved in but somehow ends up falling for the boss’ son who’s a few years older than her? (Ignore if boring)

Finally I have time to write this! I was so looking forward to this since I saw it ^^

Hope you like it and thank you for the patience 🙏

You never would have hoped that you would find a job so soon after finishing your degree. And for a big company as well!

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new busy life, luckily the other members of the legal team were a great help.

While checking over paperwork, like most of the time, you notice a missing signature so you made your way over to your boss.

To your surprise you found a charming young man casually chatting with Mr. Washington.

“I don’t think we have met yet, I’m Josh Washington.” Ah! That makes sense.

After an embarrassing introduction, you handed the paperwork to your boss before making your way back to your workplace.

The following days, you ran into Josh all the time. Everyday he would stop by and greet you. After two week of casual chatting, he asked if he could join you for lunch.

He was very sweet and you liked his company so you never turned him down.

Josh would often tell you about his sisters, that he cared for dearly or about his best friend Chris. He is amazed by your achievements and always compliments you. Even if you rant for hours on end about stuff he doesn’t even understand, he will listen intently.

Most of the time you forgot he was the son of your boss. Except for when your boss would pay random visits to remind Josh to let you go back to work. You were convinced he didn’t want you close to his son. Little did you know that Mr. Washington just wanted to check how the both of you got along. He noticed Josh seeming happier since he ran into you and hoped it stayed that way.

After months of spending lunches together and slight flirting on Josh’s part, your boss surprised the both of you as you wanted to grab lunch. Without a word he handed something to Josh and with a silent nod just walked away.

Apparently he had enough of the two of you just flirting without going further and took matters into his own hands by making a reservation in a fancy restaurant for the two of you.

“So, any idea why your dad had to ask me out in your place?” you tease.

All he could do was stutter out any kind of answer. Its embarrassing enough that a grown man gets a date arranged by his dad but then get teased for it as well? He now is putty in your hands as long as you promise not to tell anyone.

It was no surprise the date turns out well and despite the start, Josh proved himself with his charming side. By the end you were even charmed enough to end the date with a sweet kiss.

The following months were unbelievable annoying for your coworkers. Josh would come over every free second he had. Sneaking somewhere private with you to make out was normal. It made you feel like a teenager again, giggling like crazy whenever you were pulled into a secluded area either on set or in the office, depending on where you were currently busy.

It didn’t stop at simple make out sessions either.

Just like today, Josh surprised you and sneaked you on set while everyone else was gone. You always were amazed to see what the film crew could make. The current movie was a horror movie, something your boss was known for, about a group of friends stuck in the mountains.

The rooms for the lodge looked amazingly realistic. Josh lead you to the big bed before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

But you stopped it with a gasp “We can’t do it here!”

He just smirked at you, already knowing he can convince you easily. And you hated that he was right.

Josh just wrapped his arms around you, pressing kisses up your neck as you kept complaining and naming all the reasons why you shouldn’t do it here.

Of course your complains quickly stopped once he started to nip and bite at your favorite spot, making you whimper instead.

“If we are fast, no one will know.”

Before you know it, you found yourself on the bed, your skirt pulled up and your panties tangling off your foot while Josh trusts inside you at a high speed that made your mind dizzy. His fingers were drawing patterns on your clit, taking you to the edge of orgasm in no time.

But just as you were about to reach your peak, you heard voices coming nearer.

The break was over and the set started to fill with people.

You barely had time to put your clothes back on.

Just in time, Josh helped you back to your feet with a steady arm around your waist to help you stand on your shaky legs.

“What are you two doing here?” your boss asked, looking at Josh suspiciously.

“I just wanted to show her the new sets for your movie, I figured it would be better that I do it while it was empty so we don’t bother anyone.”

You didn’t know if his father bought the half lie but if he had any idea what you were really doing, he didn’t say anything.

“You are a maniac you know that.” you laugh at Josh as you finally left the building.

“Only for you my love.” he laughs too, kissing your cheek before leading you away to continue what he started.

[ciaradream8]

Where Are You (Part 2)

A/N: So I'm still upset with Zayne for not coming home when midnight hit during new years and before that (He rarely showed up at the cafe and when he did he was on his laptop the whole time). So I'm still letting out feelings and the new year is not being kind to me in RL as well. Just needed to vent in my own way so I made a part 2. I know I know those who commented wanted a better outcome and I PROMISE there will be happy ending. It's just going to take a few parts to get there. Please be patient with me. I didn't plan on making this more than 2 parts it just happened. I just went with the flow. I didn't really proofread this either so I'm sorry for the terrible writing. Like I said I was just venting in my own way.

Warnings: Angst (with a bit of comfort from Tara until later)

Words: 1.5K

If this is your first time reading this I suggest going to the first part:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Did you have a good new year’s?” Tara asked as she took a bite of her lunch.

“Yeah.” I replied, giving her a small smile. She put her fork down and gave me a look.

“What happened? You don’t look like someone who celebrated and is excited for the new year.” she frowned.

I sighed. After sending that text to Zayne he still had not replied. It’s been a couple of days. All I could see was that he read it, but he didn’t do anything beyond that point. I just felt worse after that. Everywhere I looked something reminded me of him. It didn’t help that Linkon was snowing. Even if someone mentioned snow he would just pop in my head and wouldn’t leave my mind for a long period of time. I didn’t want to tell Tara what happened for two reasons: I didn’t want to worry her and hearing it from my own mouth would make me cry again.

“I…I rather not talk about it.” I spoke up after a minute of silence. Tara opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It was strange. She normally would try to pry things open, but it appeared she noticed that I was feeling at my lowest. I had my downs, but this was by far the worst I have ever felt. Things have been going wrong since the Zayne situation happened: my packages went to the wrong address, my takeout orders have been way off, my reports had errors despite me double checking them, and more. Why was this happening? They didn’t involve Zayne yet after my breakup text things have been consistently going wrong.

“Okay. I won’t force you, but at least let me do a new year reading for you! It might help!” Tara offered.

“I…I don’t know.” I hesitated.

“Please? Pretty please?” She gave me her puppy eyes.

I gave a small laugh, “Okay. Go ahead.” To be honest, I was scared. Tara’s readings have usually been on point. Let’s see how terrible my year will be. I thought to myself. I watch Tara take out her cards with excitement after setting aside her lunch. She proceeds to lay out her cards on the table while I take another small bite of my lunch. After she finishes she puts her index finger to her chin and analyzes the cards. My heart rate speeds up due to nerves, but I try to quell it down and prepare myself for a negative year. Next thing I see from her face is a smile.

“You’re going to be fine, (Y/N). The beginning of the year is sometimes rough for everyone. I can see you were let down by someone for a while, but they have their reasons. I know. I know it’s no excuse and I can see you’re going to give them a fight. This special person of yours is willing to fight to win your heart again. No matter how long it takes. This year won’t be bad for you at all. I promise.” Tara placed her hand over her heart.

“Tara…you know who this special person is…” I sighed.

“I know. But I also know saying his name will hurt you more with the way you’re feeling now, right?”

“Thanks for not saying it.” I smiled.

“Of course! What are friends for? Let me read the rest.”

According to Tara, my career is still going to skyrocket along with my luck. I just had to get through a rough patch for the time being. I hated that. Luckily she said that it was for a very short time and that soon things will fall into place, but at the end of the day I made the choices in my life. Even though I didn’t tell her exactly what happened, she made me feel better.

3 Days Later

Mornings suck. I like being a hunter, but the only complaint I have is that we’re supposed to report for duty in the morning. I grabbed my phone to check the time and nearly jumped out of bed at the sight of what I saw on my screen.

A text message from Zayne.

He’s sending me a message NOW? Why? Wait. Should I have blocked him? But I can’t since he’s my primary physician. Maybe I can call Akso Hospital to see if I can switch. The less I see him the better. I thought to myself while I unlocked my phone to see what he sent. There was no explanation. Just one question:

Can we talk?

That was it. I slapped my forehead and laughed a bit. Was this man serious? This was the last thing I wanted to do. What if Tara was wrong in her reading? Zayne doesn’t want me. He probably got tired of me for all I know. “Think, (Y/N). Think. This is a bad idea. You’ll go crawling to him after the pain he put you through.” I shook my head. The pain of wanting to see him and being disappointed in him were fighting against each other. I needed to think with my head this time. “It’s fine. I can go on without him. I don’t need…I don’t need…” I couldn’t finish that sentence. I proceeded to cry in bed again while I clutched onto my phone.

After a good cry I decided not to answer. He never answered my texts so why should I? I don’t care if it was childish. I had the right to be like this since he was the one so busy with work that he ignored me, got annoyed with me when I tried to get him to pay attention, and ignored my messages and missed out on our celebration for the new year and first year anniversary. I’m a big girl who can live without him just fine.

“Hunters. This year is off to a slow start, but that doesn’t mean we have other things to take care of. Such as your physical.” Jenna announced and everyone groaned. “It is necessary that we have all these medical appointments to ensure that your body is doing well to keep going. Being a hunter is a big responsibility. It is my hope that one day that all wanderers are gone for good and that the city won’t need hunters anymore. That the world will no longer have to fear wanderers invading their home and we can live a peaceful life. We got a taste of that these past few weeks. Unfortunately, they are not gone. That is where you come in. Maintaining a healthy body and mind is necessary for jobs like these. You may have become strong in more ways than one, but at the end of the day we are human. We have our vulnerable side too and that’s okay. Your physical must be done by the end of the month and I will receive your medical report from your doctor.”

“Yes, Captain!” We all shouted.

“Good. All of you get back to work.” Jenna said before walking away. The moment we couldn't see Jenna’s silhouette Tara pulled me to the side.

“Are you going to be okay with that?” Tara asked with a worried look on her face.

“Honestly?” I bit my lip and shook my head. “Maybe I can switch doctors or have one of the doctors do it for me?”

“Do you really want to switch doctors?”

I looked to the side, “It doesn’t matter. It’s probably best.”

“(Y/N)...”

“We got weekly reports to do. We better get started on those.” I cut her off.

After finishing work and leaving the Hunter’s Association I saw that there was heavy rain. My remaining coworkers who stayed overtime with me were frustrated since the weather report didn’t mention anything about rain tonight. I groaned.

“Just my luck. I didn’t bring my raincoat or a thick jacket. Tara…I’m probably the first person whose reading is wrong.” I walked to the parking lot to get my motorcycle, but when I tried to turn it on, a weird nose spurted out. “Are you kidding me?!” I tried to turn it on again, but next thing I knew a bit of smoke came out. I am so close to screaming. I took a deep breath to try and calm down, but with everything falling apart it was becoming difficult. I walked out of the parking lot and got my phone out to call a taxi only to see my phone was dead. That was the last straw. I threw my phone as far as I could as I screamed.

“CAN THIS DAY GET ANY WORSE?!” I looked up while the rain poured. “I JUST WANT SOMETHING TO GO RIGHT? JUST ONCE. A SIGN OR SOMETHING WOULD BE NICE DAMN IT!” Tears began to roll down my cheeks while I panted. I heard footsteps behind me. I didn’t bother turning around, thinking it was a stranger who thought I was nuts. But it wasn’t a stranger.

“(Y/N).”

Impossible. I thought. I slowly turned around to face the person I was hoping not to see. He wore his black knitted shirt, dark gray coat and slacks. He held up his large, black umbrella above him.

“Zayne?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you for letting me let things out. This year is already off to a rough start honestly, but at least it's giving me inspiration to write stuff like this? I'll probably just write whatever I want to write unless you guys have requests. I do know more than Love and Deepspace so if you're curious what more I can do you can ask and I will answer yes or no. Again I promise this will have a happy ending! I am just salty with Zayne hahaha

[eremington]

Elio

Elio sighed, quiet for a moment before responding. “Please do not misunderstand Elijah. I am always happy for a friend’s good fortune… So long as others aren’t being harmed or put at disadvantage, I have no reason to be upset with another’s happiness. I can’t help but think you robbed yourself of never knowing what might have been though. The outcome of your intended fate wasn’t yet clear and the path you’ve chosen… Well, for your sake I only hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into now that you’re indebted to Arjun.”

Elijah

"I think Eiji intended for me to use this as a way to reconcile with Rei. And of course the irony is that I lost hope of him returning and then he came back the next month." He let out a self deprecating scoff and shifted to lean back against the tree further with a small frown. Elio made it sound like Arjun wasn't someone to be trusted. "I don't have your patience to meet my fate. This curse also made me feel like I was running out of time. Now at least I have a stay of execution."

Elio

Elio nodded, thinking indeed Elijah had been so close to the finish line and given up so easily. “Hindsight is 20/20 as they say. Patience is not something one is born with, but rather learns with time… It might hurt to hear, but I hope if nothing else, you still have learned something in regard to that.”

Elijah

"Mmm." Elijah kind of hated being told 'I hope you learned something from this,' but Elio did have a point. There was nothing else really that he could think to add at this point, he would just have to see how things turned out with him and Rei. "I guess I should let you hop off to go find your prince to kiss."

Elio

Elio nodded and took a froggy leap back, giving a wave as he turned and exclaimed, “Do yourself a favor and read the original story some time. The kiss thing’s made up!”

"It's different, yes. But I find a change of perspective from time to time to be healthy," Elio explained rather casually. "As for my mood that all depends on you. How has life been these days? Everything you hoped for what with your abilities no longer deteriorating?"

[kokiwiouma]

saw this and thought about them

[yangjeongin]

MINHO in 5 STAR ERA for @linoyes

learn more about getting a gifset for gaza here!

[royalarchivist]

Foolish: You know what? Fit: it's the perfect alibi. "Just a janitor," going through... just to cleaning around everywhere... talk to a lot of people... and you're just bald and such, you know, no one would think twice that you- may be you'd up to something.

Fit: Foolish that's- that's literally the entire point, we've been over this.

Pac: You like the plumber's work, right? You like to get your hand in the plumber's and- do the stuffs, and plumb [makes a very loud popping sound] those pipes, right?

[Everyone loses it and starts laughing]

Pac: I'm sorry- I'm sor- I'm- [laughs] I did- I didn't mean-

Fit: WAS THE SOUND NECESSARY???

Foolish: No, the sound made it.

Pac: I didn't- I didn't hear myself- sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh my god, I'm so shy right now, I'm just gonna sit.

[Full transcript ↓ ]

Foolish: You know what? Fit: it's the perfect alibi. "Just a janitor," going through... just to cleaning around everywhere... talk to a lot of people... and you're just bald and such, you know, no one would think twice that you- may be you'd up to something.

Fit: Foolish that's- that's literally the entire point, we've been over this.

Foolish: Have we?

Fit: I said I'm- I'm trying to find out more about like, the Code Monsters!

Foolish: I thought you just wanted- liked being a janitor.

Fit: Well, I actually do kinda like it, I'll be honest with you, I like getting paid, but-

Foolish: Wait damnnit, Philza's doing it right.

Pac: You like the plumber's work, right?

Fit: Yeah.

Pac: You like to get your hand in the plumber's and- do the stuffs, and plumb [makes a very loud popping sound] those pipes, right?

[Everyone loses it and starts laughing]

Pac: I'm sorry- I'm sor- I'm- [laughs] I did- I didn't mean-

Fit: WAS THE SOUND NECESSARY???

Foolish: No, the sound made it.

Pac: I didn't- I didn't hear myself- sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh my god, I'm so shy right now, I'm just gonna sit.

[changingtidesandtimesss]

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[rosesofenvy]

2m25s of Arthur Lester Falling (S3)

Tag your favorite fall! Mine is "a long, long fall (reprise)"

SEASON 1 COMPILATION

SEASON 2 COMPILATION

SEASON 4 COMPILATION

[thiscatiscreepy]

Ivy for the lovely @flowers-all-around-me for getting me Hardspace: Shipbreaker (best game ever!!)

[ID: a digital drawing of Ivy Alexandria wearing an ornate red dress. Ivy is a white woman with red braided hair and shaved sides. She has some wires and computer parts on her exposed temple, and a blue brain-like organ is visible. She is sitting under a tree on a sunny day, reading a book in her lap. The sunlight dapples through the leaves of the tree onto the grass, her dress and face. She is wearing an old-fashioned red gown with puffy sleeves and silver embroidery of flowers. She is also wearing white summer shoes. The drawing has a peaceful and warm feeling. End ID]

[cadriox]

“I wished for it to all be wiped away.”