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neysaadept · 3 days ago

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Prometheus Chapter 6

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 6 - Restart

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.9k

AO3

Chapter 5

You walk into Quantico with a new sense of purpose after having drinks with Prentiss last night. The barrier that the section chief had built up with assumptions and unknowns had been removed and replaced with cautious optimism. That you can work with – a mutual understanding that you’re both on the same side, you meant no harm and were not a threat to the BAU. As it was a workday, you only shared another drink together but the two of you nursed them slowly.

As you still couldn’t say much about your past, you did elaborate on the high-speed pursuit that Tara hinted at.

“Yeah, so it all worked out. Dumb ass fell right into the spike strips. Took care of that quick once I got ‘em there,” you explain before taking another swallow of beer.

“They never learn.” Prentiss smiles and takes a sip as well. “But keeping pace with them was something else. No wonder they panicked.”

You smile. “Yep! Intel was good that they weren’t carrying much. They fired off a few rounds here and there to scare us off. Try and get me to fall back. They just never got the memo that the CIA Surveillance and Pursuit class was renamed cuz of me.” You raise your beer and wink at Prentiss. “Now affectionately known as the Maniac Chase Class.”

“Oh my god! That was you?” She laughs, shaking her head in amazement.

“Yeah. I gotta wee bit carried away on my third try.” You shrug coyly. “Really wanted to beat that record.”

“You demolished it.” She smirks. “And the car.”

“Which slid across the line for a new record,” you explain with pride and then pause for dramatic effect, holding your arms out, beer still in hand, “And … I walked away without a single injury.”

“See, that part I thought was all hype,” Emily admits and looks inquisitive.

“No, sadly. It helped I was young and dumb when I did it.” You say with introspective embarrassment. “I was so fucking stupid.”

She snorts with agreement while doing mental math. “Wait, how old were you when he recruited you?”

“Young,” you vaguely admit.

“But you joined before me,” she says, knowing you were aware of her records and nod that she was correct. “I joined late ’97 and everyone just naturally talked about the course like that.” You heard the implication. She meant that the nickname wasn’t a new idea and was trying to figure out how much longer you have been in the CIA before she joined.

You clear your throat in caution. “Leave it alone, Prentiss. I … I honestly can’t say anything more.” You grimace, knowing you already said too much.

Emily didn’t press for further information, but you knew she gleaned enough to make educated assumptions. You felt like a fool, letting your guard down like that, but the conversation flowed easily between the two of you. It felt … nice, being able to connect with someone new. That hadn’t happened since Rebecca.

You’ll need to keep your guard up since Prentiss reaffirmed that you would be a proper member of the BAU starting today. They would want to get to know you, and you them. You just have to remember to tone it down and not get carried away with enthusiasm. Keep Brian’s wisdom close to your heart that this is new to you and ground yourself. Don’t get swept away with emotions, like last night.

It was a late start at Quantico for you since you had to start at Langley. The stipend funds had been approved and your signature was needed on a lot of paperwork. Finance assured you that the money would be deposited into the BAU budget by the end of day. Prentiss would be able give Bailey the proverbial finger on Monday when she distributed the funds, pushing the unit into the green, leaving the penny pincher helpless with his mission to disband the BAU that way.

Prentiss had texted you that the team would be ready for you in the conference room discussing their current caseloads and leads and would wait for you, providing you that proper do over with them. You appreciated that and said as such in reply.

As you head off the elevator to the sixth floor, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and belonging. You even put a little more effort into your outfit, choosing a charcoal grey pants suit with a black sleeveless semi-spread polo collar, and comfy black work shoes with decent tread. You had your backpack on, holding the straps over your chest as you survey the area.

True to her word, the team was already in the conference room. Garcia happens to see you first and smiles big, giving you a quick, animated wave that caught Prentiss’ attention. She was standing and angles her body to the left to see who was there and visibly relaxes noticing it was you. The team follows her gaze as Prentiss gestures for you to join them.

JJ looks from Prentiss to Rossi, who was suspiciously smirking up at Emily. “And why are you smiley this morning?”

“Hm?” he looks over at her as Prentiss’ attention turns towards the exchange. “Oh, just delighted Whitlock can join us. Orientation’s a pain in the ass.”

He was equally relieved and surprised that Emily spoke to you as quickly as she did. Because of that, he wouldn’t press the orientation fib being told to the team.

“Man, I wish I had the short version like she did when I joined,” Luke grumbles playfully.

“Yeah, but you needed a lot of work honey, and honestly … still do, unlike our CIA cutie,” Garcia chides as you walk in.

“That my new rank?” you say with twinkling eyes and a brow raising to the group. “CIA cutie?”

The members collectively chuckle and laugh at the joke and as you look at Prentiss, she was fighting to keep her lips from curling upwards.

“No. Still a consultant.” Prentiss admits. She gestures to an empty seat between Tara and Garcia. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

You nod and slip past Prentiss, sliding the backpack off your shoulders. You place it on the ground behind your chair and sit down. As you look at the BAU members starting back at you, you feel daunted. But you got this and look eagerly at Prentiss to kick this off.

“I know things have been hectic this week with all the changes and assignments and getting Whitlock up to speed on FBI protocols. She still has a few more items to go over, but I’m pulling her in since we can use all the help we can get,” Prentiss explains. “Garcia, mind getting Whitlock up to speed where we’re at?

Garcia immediately speaks up, almost bouncing on the seat at the chance. “You got it, Ma’am.”

Emily winces and presses her hand down towards Garcia. “What have I said about that?”

She smiles. “Not to call you Ma’am.”

“Please remember that.”

“You got it, Boss Ma’am.” Garcia says cheekily.

Emily sits down in a huff, and you have to cover your mouth to hide the smile on your face. The team did not hide their amusement at the banter.

“Anyway,” Garcia says and laces her fingers together before turning her hands inside out to crack them, “time for catch up!”

Her fingers dance across the keyboard and immediately your eyes go to screen depicting a U.S. map with sixteen dots. Each dot had a line that led to a description of the kill kit number, contents and the city and state of its location. Two of the dots are red, the others blue.

“We have recovered fourteen of the sixteen kill kits, no thanks to our firebug in holding right now. The two missing are from Indio, CA and Rockville, MD and your technological goddess is monitoring anything in the surrounding areas that sounds Sicariusy like.”

“How wide’s the radius?” you ask.

“Fifty,” she answers while you nod. “So far nothing’s pinged that shouts out, ‘I’m a Sicarius henchmen’. However, Mr. Dishonorably Discharged had a test kit that was really oooooold based on soil samples.”

“Five years isn’t that old,” JJ says.

“But the kits being activated by Sicarius, it is,” explains Rossi. “All the lockers we’ve found have new tech, supplies, chemicals …”

“Lab did confirm the soil samples from our kits are newer. So why give Green something older?” Prentiss asks the team.

“Maybe this one fit Green’s M.O. better?” Luke offers.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” says Rossi.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” urges Prentiss.

“That Green was set up?” you offer, looking between Prentiss and Rossi.

He half smiles, impressed, and points to you casually. “Kid’s good. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Maybe he was testing Green to see what he’d do. Confirm if he was truly loyal or not.”

“And either way, Sicarius would get what he wanted. A big explosion or expose Green for who he really is,” JJ says emphatically. “

“All right.” Prentiss takes a moment to digest this and addresses everyone. “Give me some options.”

Luke leans back and gestures to Garcia. “Green was the last to see his sister. So, we’re thinking a cognitive interview might help him remember any details of that night. Anything that could help him ID the guy that took her.”

“Good luck trying to get him to agree to it,” states Tara. “He has big problems with authority figures. He won’t cooperate unless he has good reason.”

“How’s not finding his sister’s killer a good reason?” you ask.

“Oh, he’s really pissed off.” Prentiss says as you raise a brow. “We took away his chance at catching Sicarius and enacting his revenge.”

“And he really doesn’t like that I’m a Fed again.” Garcia pouts with that admission. “He sent me all that info thinking I was still distanced from all of this.” She gestures wildly at the room.

Prentiss looks sympathetic. “But we have to try. Luke, I need you to talk to Green and get him to agree to the cognitive interview. JJ, keep watch on the exchange.” They both nod and she addresses Garcia. “Keep working on any leads that might help us find those missing kill kits. Whitlock, you’ll assist.”

You visibly perk up at the sound of your name and look thankful for a hands-on opportunity. Inwardly, you were doing backflips. Prentiss could feel you buzzing with internal excitement and chuckles. “Not like you can catch up on any paperwork you don’t have yet.”

Rossi and Tara groan while Luke and JJ share a smirk.

“Oh, don’t even,” admonishes Prentiss. “You both get to play catch up in between interviewing Green until a case comes in.”

Luke is silent, lowering his head in defeat as JJ frowns while pouting. “Aww.”

Now that the team had their assignments, Garcia was utterly giddy and squeals towards you. “Come Robin! To the Batcave!”

Garcia catches you up on everything over the next few hours. From the hidden message apps on the unsubs phones, to the discussion forums, and how Sicarius used this to gain followers so he could teach them the ways of being sadistic killers. She had identified the usernames of the unsubs and was able to find that they all chatted with Sicarius - User45125. They also learned about the different murder methods that matched up with the bodies found in the shipping container. Out of the lockers that are missing, the BAU believes that kits would contain methods to kill by acid and strangulation to match the last of the victims.

“I can’t trace any direct messaging, so that’s why all of this is based on the forum info me and JJ combed through,” Garcia says, ending her lengthy summation.

“What a sick fuck.” You shake your head in disgust. “Play with the first round of victims and pass all that fun on to his new friends who do it all over again.”

You were sitting to the left of Garcia, lightly turning the chair back and forth with a foot on the floor. To your delight, it didn’t bother her. It was a habit you developed over time to help you think. You look over the conversations that Sicarius had with the unsubs and Green. He definitely narrowed down the chosen ones based on their psychopathic thrills.

“How many are on this message board again?” you ask, gesturing at the screens.

“Over half a million. Which just…bleh!” Garcia pauses, shivering for dramatic effect, “Makes me feel all squicky that there are that many of them chatting in one spot. But I narrowed down the really, really, bad naughties to seventeen k.”

“Damn. Fucker’s been busy.” You go silent as you calculate options with the information the BAU had.

Garcia glances at you, seeing your eyes darting back and forth in concentration. “What’cha thinking there?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just … “ you pause, words softening, “a half formed thought. A possibility.” You turn towards Garcia. “Can you narrow the users further by who hasn’t been active in a few months? At least since Green last contacted Sicarius? Bonus if longer.”

She blinks rapidly at you and looks put out. “Can I?!” She then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Since you’re new, I will let that slight pass, but there is nothing I can’t do, missy.”

Except get your file, but you don’t need to know that!

“Apologies, M’Lady!” You smile, making sure to file that away to not offend the bubbly woman in the future. “If you would be so kind and continue working your magic?”

“And the lady shall be kind!” Garcia says with vigor and starts narrowing down the possibilities further.

The two of you work diligently over the next few hours. You guide Garcia with different traits to knock down the users into something manageable with the information that can be extracted from text. Emoji use, shorten expressions, length of posts, seeking knowledge and showboating instead of trying to engage in an emotional connection, aggressive language use, and interests.

“Here you go.” Garcia calls up a list of usernames that fit your specifications. “One-hundred and thirty-four.”

“Have any of those spoke to our guy at length? Something substantial?”

“Hm, yes!” She pulls those up.

That got you down to thirty-eight. “And how many of those appear to have contacted him through direct messaging?” You couldn’t know for sure but based on the flow of conversation and quality, there were hints.

She types quickly. “Ah, fourteen.” She shows you the names.

“List them by last known contact with him – earliest to latest.”

“Done.”

“Now pull up last few messages from each.”

“Also done.”

You read through them, ignoring the majority as you skim but there were a few that stood out.

Dark_Muse: Fucking cunt is finally gonna pay!!! Girls night is gonna end on a high!!!

_piouspisces: Woke up from a dream today. Hope it comes true. Just have to set up the right ingredients. Need advice on lacing paper. I have some ideas but need confirmation.

FlamePit23: The world only makes sense at sunrise and sunset. It’s when it looks like the world is set on fire. Beautiful.

You point to that last username. “Show me this one’s profile.”

Garcia clicks on it and reads. “’Nothing burns as bright as the rage inside you. Cultivate and embrace it. Keep it under your control’. Oh, they go on to say to never make any friends. That’s cheerful and lonely.”

“But they admitted to ‘nurturing others so I can take them off guard. Like my mother did to me when I was younger’ makes me think this one’s female,” you say while tapping the screen. “What’s the date and timestamp on the last message?”

“That would be … August 12, 2022 0550.”

You would bet that it was close to sunrise on that day when the user posted.

You pull your hand back to cup your chin in thought as Garcia looks oddly at you. “You know, I’ve been doing this a really, really long time, and I can usually predict where people are going with their data mining. But you? I have zilch of an idea because this makes no sense to me.”

You heard she was talking, but you weren’t listening. You were too focused on formulating a plan.

She puckers her lips in annoyance at being ignored and snaps her fingers twice in front of your face. “Hello?”

“Oh!” you say, jerking back into awareness. “I’m trying to come up with a crazy plan.”

“Please tell me this won’t result in you going AWOL again …” Prentiss had entered and neither of them had heard the door open.

You and Garcia share a look wondering if she even knocked as Prentiss walks in further expectantly. “Well?”

You sit back and reassure her. “Ah, no. Course not.”

“Wait. So, you really went AWOL?” Garcia asks curiously. “Did you serve before the CIA?”

“I didn’t serve.” You bit your lower lip and nod, coming to terms with what you can say. “I did some training with military personnel. All informal.”

You and the other four recruits had gone through training with the Green Berets, Navy Seals, and Delta Force. Something you couldn’t disclose as it technically never happened, hence, the informal part of your cover. You also are glad Garcia was distracted by that and didn’t ask you to elaborate on the AWOL matter.

Garcia whistles. “Wowzer.”

That made you smile. “A very simple, yet precise, way to put it.”

“A talent of hers for sure. But let’s get back to this crazy plan of yours,” insists Prentiss as she leans against the desk on the other side of Garcia.

“Again, it’s just the start of one but it could be a way to infiltrate Sicarius’ chosen ones without the need for vengeance to fuck things up.”

“You really say that word a lot,” notices Garcia.

“What?”

Garcia struggles by opening and closing her mouth like a fish to try and get the word out, but Prentiss beats her to it. “Fuck.”

“Huh?” You look at the section chief with confusion. “No thank you?”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant!” She answers, speaking quickly as you fluster her with the insinuation, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer.

“What’s so funny?” she snaps.

“You!” you answer between cackles. “I knew what you meant.”

Garcia at least has the decency to look away while trying to fight off her own snickers as Prentiss takes a hand to her head to rub at her temples. “I swear to god, Whitlock …”

“Anyway …” you grin. “The idea is to chat him up with a username that is not entirely inactive but hasn’t been used in a bit. Think we found a prospect.”

Prentiss’ irritation with you changes to interest. “That so?”

Garcia nods. “Now that I know what the plan is, yes. I can do a deeper dive into this user and see what I can dig up.”

“Less is more, in this case,” you explain thoughtfully. “If we infiltrate this way, we gotta have enough info to be this user without him really knowing who this is. So, if you can find who they are, then we’re back to finding another. Because that means he would know their identity, too.”

Prentiss nods. “Do it. Green isn’t cooperating at all like Tara figured. He wouldn’t agree to the cognitive interview. Might as well see how this pans out while JJ tries to change Green’s mind.”

“On it, Boss Ma’am!” Garcia jests as she gets to work.

Prentiss looks up at the ceiling as if searching for patience, but as brown eyes come down, they focus on you. “Come with me and bring your stuff.”

“Sure thing.” You rise, grabbing your backpack but before you follow Prentiss, you squeeze Garcia’s shoulder. “This was nice. Working with you, that is.”

She tears her eyes away from the screen to look up at your soulful eyes. You really appreciated how Garcia jumped into working with you with fervor and not giving you the cold shoulder from earlier this week. “Aww, sweetie! Yes, we’ll keep working at it to make this idea blossom into a full blown plan!”

You smile so hard your cheeks hurt and stay that way until Garcia gets back to work. You then meet up with Prentiss to walk out together.

“Good first day.” It was an observation by the section chief.

“Yeah, it really was.” You were smiling again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Her tone carries a mystique to it, and you become captivated while walking to the bullpen together. “But I owe you a proper thank you. Langley sent me the confirmation of funds.”

“I’ll behave.” Prentiss’ eyes widen when you say that. “I won’t start making it rain money at you in celebration.”

She chuckles. “So, you can control it?”

“Occasionally.”

“Good. Then I’ve no regrets in getting you something.”

That made you perk up. “You got me something?”

“Bit overdue, but …” Prentiss stops without warning at the first desk to the right when you enter the bullpen. “… it’s yours.”

You are befuddled as you shift your gaze from Prentiss to the desk and audibly gasp. Resting on top of it was your name on display as a consultant. “Wow.”

Pleased with your reaction, she nudges you with her elbow. “This is when you’re supposed to thank me.”

“Ah, right!” you laugh, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck before looking to her with a radiant smile. “Thank you, Prentiss.”

Your response without jest disarms her like it did last night over drinks. Your gazes lock for several beats and you just stand there with sincere gratitude that she welcomed you as a member of the team.

She recovers quickly with a stiff nod and motions to your desk. “You’re welcome. When you’re done getting settled, get back to working on that angle with Garcia.”

“You got it.” You immediately round the desk, already slipping off your backpack to place on top of it as Prentiss heads to her office.

That felt really nice to say in your head. Your desk. When was the last time you had a desk with a name plate? Everything you did was covert up until now so flashing your name and credentials was the equivalent to placing a target on your back with a bright flashing sign that says, ‘Shoot me!’. The right people knew your name when on mission, but most of your identity was done under aliases and callsigns.

You take a quick inventory of what’s on the desk – laptop connected to dual monitors, keyboard and mouse, stacked plastic organizers, phone, stapler, black plastic pen holder that was empty.

Guess I’ll have to find supplies…

You pick up the stapler and click it, watching a used staple hit the desk. At least that was ready to go for all the paperwork you’ll be doing now. The team will be excited to hear that! You then pull out the chair to get acquainted with the drawers only to be shocked for the second time today.

Waiting for you on the chair was a six pack of Diet Coke bottles with a blue sticky note attached. You peel it off to read and immediately smile.

Welcome to the BAU, Whitlock.

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds x reader #Criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily x reader #emily x you #prometheus

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swan2swan · 26 days ago

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They've been living together for six months.

#not like...living together living together they've just had to share a treehouse and thus seen each other for approximately 200 days #yasmina fadoula #brooklynn #jurassic world: camp cretaceous #jwcc #on the one hand this definitely feels like it shoulda-coulda been an earlier episode #on the other hand the further back you push this combo the funnier and funnier all their prior adventures get #this was their FIRST SOLO ADVENTURE #these two have NEVER HAD A PROPER CONVERSATION #IN SIX MONTHS #which is actually quite believable #but also #they never fell in a hole together #or had the group get so fed up that they shoved them into a room #it's also funny because Yaz's goth side doesn't really come out a lot #but it's really obvious when you see them here #especially with Yaz framed against the shadow of the mountain #while Brooklynn's got the sunny sky and bright umbrellas #which are somehow still there after six months of island storms #the chairs are upright too #...actually those might all have been locked in place if this wasn't in use the day the park closed #not important

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sunmoontruth-stiles · 7 months ago

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I need a completely rewritten teen wolf series with Derek Hale as the main character. I think it would heal me.

#we follow Derek from New York. Laura left for beacon hills. it’s been six years since he was back but he hasn’t heard from her #and hes going stir crazy waiting. he packs up and travels back. it’s almost too much immediately. he still can’t get a hold of Laura #he can’t resist going home. it’s like a natural pull that guides him back. all at once he’s 16 again. staring at the wreckage of his life #deputy stilinski is sherrif now. it’s reassuring in the slightest that the police force seems to have moved on from how corrupt it was #he catches her scent and it’s putrid. bile catches in his throat. he seeks it out. still in denial to what he knows it means.#when he finds Laura it’s like the world ends all over again. he can’t stand to see her like this. he gives her a proper burial.#the best he can do at least #he visits Peter. he’s not the man Derek remembers- so full of fire and cunning. their relationship may have been strained at times.#often Derek felt more like Eve being swayed by the snake than a normal friendship #but this isn’t the sharp tongued uncle who guided him. this is a broken shell. all that remained of his family. he was so lost.#22 but he barely knew how to function without his family- his pack paving the way #Laura handled everything. she got the apartment. she made sure they had food. Derek looks back and feels so useless #he was so lost in his grief. Laura must of felt the same way but she never let them drown in it #she made sure he got his GED. even got him to enroll in community college classes.#he took them online. he never was able to warm up to people the same way. he used to be so full of life. now he just wanted to be left alone #he studied English. never finished his degree. doesn’t look like he ever will now. he can’t go back to Laura and his shared home.#can’t bare to see another shell of a home #he vents to the vacant audience of Peter and his cold fixed eyes #Derek leaves. he wants to promise he’ll return soon #but promises feel costly these days #he decides to go back to the reserve. maybe he can find some clue as to what happened to Laura #someone lured her here. someone who knew them and their history here #his mind went to the worst. Kate. why would she go through the trouble six years later. why wait so long.#Derek couldn’t stomach the thought of facing her. he focused on the woods. the scents were all over the place.#clearly multiple people had been through here recently. two scents were much stronger. Derek follows them #but when he hears the crunch of leaves he realizes why the scents are so strong. they’re still here #he ducks behind some trees. listening in on their conversation. but an echo of their scent catches his attention #he spots an inhaler on the ground. he puts two and two together and swipes it from the leaves.#he comes out once they’re closer. tossing over the inhaler- he figures they’ll leave. dumb kids messing around in the woods #he reminds them this is private property. though that may not be true anymore. he recognizes the scent of a new beta. interesting.

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halcyonarylus · 2 days ago

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Honestly, I don't blame Alhaitham for opting out of researching something in this scenario. While many scholars would have been over the moon to research a relic like the wedject eye - especially one connected to gods like Deshret and the Dendro Archon because people put gods to a high esteem - Alhaitham doesn't. Gods and humans are just different forms of existence in his eyes. So to me, he would view the object like someone else's possession - something very personal that contains nothing but memories. Like yeah, it's a magical item, but functionally it would be no different from a container of momentos. It would be like breaking into a box of childhood possessions or a locket to find a personal family photo or something to that effect. (And I'm of the opinion Alhaitham does have more moral guidelines than most people give credit for because of his objective perspective and monotone delivery. Seriously, he's very emotionally aware and human).

The only thing left of interest for the relic is how it records the memories as a mechanism. Or look at the material of the gem itself, or any potential inscriptions on the relic. Which wouldn't take much time to observe. So instead of taking personal time off from work or other life to travel a good distance just to look at something for a few minutes doesn't seem like a time worthy investment. If it were me, I'd rather wait for a stars align situation, like maybe when I go to the desert to research something else and oh the temple of silence is right there. Or, even better, that the item in question comes to me.

That said, Alhaitham being lazy crushes my hope to drag him to places of interest to me - like Enkanomiya, Dragonspine, etc. (I desperately want to bring the smart people to places of mystery in game as a lore person so they can explain things to me). and it dashes my hope that this amazing Sumeru cast can interact with characters of other regions, like Cyno and Tighnari with Albedo. I'd like more of that. Please let Alhaitham and/or Kaveh leave Sumeru or participate in other festivals. (Yes, I'm biased)

It is interesting Sethos is so cool with being open to letting Alhaitham (and Kaveh) research it and other things the Temple of Silence has, considering I don't think they really interacted directly in it (I haven't done Cyno SQ II yet; I just know the main points that happen). I take it Sethos has a good vibe check and can tell the scholars in the Crew-meru friend group would treat materials of the Temple of Silence properly and with respect. There's a lot I could say about how Sethos really isn't that close to Cyno despite being initially tethered to him, and how despite this he is finding a place and purpose outside the life that had been set for him, making all sorts of connections past the desert - hence why he is steadily creeping in to be a true member of the gang - but I should reserve that for when I actually do the story quest proper. He's in such a unique position in many ways, with a lot of story potential and growth available.

Sadly, little do all these characters know there is a high possibility that the memories contained within the eye might show the truth of the original Dendro Archon. I kinda hope, if not for the wedjat eye, that we get a future story or event at the Temple of Silence, given that the location is permanent even after Cyno's SQ II, instead of being a one time domain like in other story quests.

Regardless whether the wedjat eye comes back or not, I do feel we're inching closer to a Deshret and Nabu Malikata reveal - like with Guizhong. Candace did catch bits of conversations between the two gods (things like "will she find out" and "follow the tracks.") And I hope we get all of the Sumeru crew to research that (copium, I know). Like, I know the scene is functionally covering their tracks of 'the characters are so close to accidentally stumbling on a big truth on something they never questioned the validity on before (Rukkhadevata's existence) and giving excuses for them to avoid it - but it's precisely that that makes me think we'll at least revisit the topic in some form.

And speaking of which, they were not subtle about Nahida at least suspecting something. I expect Nahida to learn about Rukkhadevata eventually, though as a thought experiment I like to imagine what would happen if the other characters involved in the rescue operation were to also learn the truth - how that would affect or challenge their understandings of knowledge and memory. Like Alhaitham is especially fascinating in that regard because he both values written records, as shown in his teader, while also constantly questioning 'truth.' It's one thing to be critical, but how would your worldview change knowing the world actively deceives you and hides things. (Again, don't think it'll happen; just a thought experiment of mine)

Hi! Thank you so much for all your analysis, I really enjoy them!! Did you find it strange when Alhaitham, at the end of the event, said he is not interested in visiting the temple of Silence for that gem? Because Alhaitham has always been one to pursue knowledge (sometimes to the extreme, i.g archon quest, where he offers to be taken as a hostage instead to learn more about the truth) Even Kaveh was confused by his answer. I wonder if Alhaitham only meant it in a "I wouldn't go through the trouble JUST for this gem" or if this might be a potential hint to his next storyquest? Idk, it just stood out to me that even Kaveh commented on it, when he knows Alhaitham the best.

i'm glad you enjoy them, thank you so much!! anon this is a delicious sumptuous question, this ??? inkling has been rattling around in my head since finishing the quest, so thank you for giving me a chance to break my own thoughts down about this!

alhaitham's own thoughts about the wedjat eye are that there is little more research to be carried out, as the wedjat eye is perceived as a piece of history, whose purpose and meaning has already been identified - and this can contrast against his active research pursuit with the forbidden canned knowledge capsules as it was uncertain what danger they posed, and the root of the danger

but kaveh points out (as you rightfully say) that since the gem is a legendary historical artifact, it's strange that alhaitham isn't interested in at least seeing it, to which alhaitham states that he refuses to go to the temple of silence to do so because it's too far for him, which is so funny to me??

as if he isn't seen roaming around in the desert and going on research trips to ruins in his character trailer, as well as the latter part of the archon quest taking place in the desert. i suppose that since alhaitham had personal motives to be in the desert these times, and, apparently the wedjat eye doesn't particularly interest him, that he isn't willing to make the journey this time, okay give us nothing!!!

alhaitham brings up the chance of the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya for appraisal, and says that in that case, he would take a look, as he likes to know when interesting things are brought to the akademiya - which can be seen as well in his story quest, where he keeps files on interest on his desk that the player can read

i think it's interesting that it is sethos himself who directly invites alhaitham to look at the wedjat eye for research when it's now contained in the temple of silence, as in cyno's second story quest, when the temple of silence is explored, sethos gives cyno and lord kusanali permission to choose people deemed "worthy" to pursue knowledge in the temple of silence, warning that they must be careful with their choice of candidates

cyno then extends this invitation to kaveh and alhaitham, with them seemingly being these 'candidates', as kaveh says he is interested in visiting the temple of silence in order to look through ancient documents, with cyno saying "that day will come" which seems to imply the temple of silence being at the centre of some future event

each sumeru event (an odd textual mystery and now nahida's birthday event) since then has, of course, included sethos, as he is now a mainline sumeru cast character, and the mention of the wedjat eye now belonging to the temple of silence is consistent with maintaining the organisation as a pivotal part of sumeru

whilst alhaitham's reluctance to physically go there seems to be for comedic purposes, in line with him not helping with the celebrations as it isn't part of his job description (oh but you can head on over to port ormos for no apparent reason to yap with kaveh and leave to go back to the house of daena? like it's a brisk stroll away?? SICK!) i think it's very likely that we'll get more of an exploration of the temple silence in future events (or perhaps a sethos hangout which i am once again asking for), especially (as you say) alhaitham is associated with pursuing knowledge, and the temple of silence is described by sethos to be the hub of this, i'll assume that there has to be something there that entices him to make the journey

as for the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya, i'm not so sure if this will be explored in an event or character story? the purpose of it seems to be fully explored in this event, with candace being the only one to be able to operate it, and with alhaitham saying that there's no need to study it further could be a narrative choice of essentially wrapping up this story thread - but who knows?? (thinking along these lines, it's notable that candace shows the wedjat eye to the traveller and paimon, but doesn't reveal it to alhaitham and kaveh when directly discussing it, ensuring that the two never see it...? worms in brain actually)

going back to the temple of silence, the information it actually possesses regarding king deshret's civilisation being a mystery, as well as the wedjat eye being a gift from king deshret now being contained there, (along with mehrak's core being from king deshret's civilisation which i think would be very !!! to explore), is really interesting to me, especially with the emphasis on there coming a 'day' in which it's possible for the temple of silence to be explored by the main crew, or those that cyno and nahida select as candidates. i'm very much hopeful that hoyo will fulfill this foreshadowing!!

#genshin impact #alhaitham #sorry op for highjacking the post #but I have brainrot on the potential of what they could do with this storyline #And sumeru stories are just peak for me

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catastrxblues · 10 months ago

Text

—

#okay i actually want to rant a bit 😭 - not advised to read this because then you might get brain damage #because oh my god??????? weird #(was going to write an entire diary but nvm here’s the gist of it)#basically i was coming home from this chem thing right #i used the train as i always do when it comes to this. and because the new station just got a shiny renovation it is now connected to the #new mall in front of it (we have two now it’s an addition to the first one). and guess what 😭#i had to go in and get to the first mall because my dad said he’d just pick me up at the lobby instead of the bus stop in front of #the station entrance right.#and when i was on the elevator going up on a call with my mom about food orders 😭#the guy i used to have a very very VERY heavy crush on in middle grade got to the elevator leading down just as i was on the landing 😭😭#and i had to make sure i wasn’t hallucinating so as he was descending and his back turned to me i examined the back of his head and i’m #pretty sure it was him. curiosity killed the cat i should’ve remembered that shit because you know what my stupid ass did??#i was already walking away on my way to cross to the first mall but then that curiosity got the better off me and i steppedonto the elevato #leading down 😭 and followed him out into (apparently) the fucking bus stop #oh my goddd I JUST REALIZED this is my the one moment help #except i don’t think he recognized me because i was never even friends with him lmao. wrote tons of poetry about him ✅#actually had one proper conversation with him ❌#i was delusional and kept alone with my thoughts living in my head do not judge me #but seriously even though i don’t really care about him anymore this would’ve been (unfortunately) SUPER important to middle grade me #she would’ve taken it as a sign or something and write like five pages about it #and i just keep thinking about that #funny how things change because IF YOU KNEW how many credits and exaggerated compliments i gave him in my old journal #oh you would’ve laugheddd #like i used to SPEND SO MUCH TIME pondering over him it’s so 😭#i used to have an oc and i think i based it on my idea of him and then i think that idea of him was even the reason i started to TRY to #write poetically. and i used to relate every taylor swift love songs to him (esp the ones in debut lover and rep and fearless) IT WAS SO #FUNNY LOOKING BACK AT IT NOW #i think he did see me though. i put on this act as if i was searching for someone confused and then (my go to) pretended someone called me #and then i whisked off as if to find that someone #i’d like to think i look pretty cool though. not because of anything (def not my looks because i was SO TIRED from that extra chem lessons

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eggmeralda · 2 years ago

Text

day 4 of my friend's girlfriend practically living in our house

#''day 4'' more like month 2 bc this. sudden 5th housemate situation began in november #her house is like 20 minutes away #if they feel the need to be with each other 24/7 can they at least do that at hers for once?#he used to be one of my closest friends but now the last proper full conversation i had with him was probably in like november #i literally live with him but i see him more at uni than i do at home and even then i only get to talk with him briefly #also i signed up to live in a house of 4 not 5 whY IS SHE ALWAYS HERE #even when he's not in the house she's still here?#she literally lives here now i can't deal with it anymore #me and another housemate had to have two separate chats with him about it last month but nothing's changed #and i don't wanna cause more drama by getting annoyed at him so i'm trying to be friendly to both of them #but idk how long it'll last #like surely the food in her fridge has gone off? i wonder if her housemates still talk to her bc i never see any of them together anymore #anyway #ramble

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httpsserene · 5 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)

summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)

author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.

grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

join the taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well.

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason.

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed.

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers.

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib.

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year.

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan.

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today.

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

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user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

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user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x black!reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #charles leclerc fic #oscar piastri fluff #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: ln.#♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: op.#serene's chapters.#serene’s fave.

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aliteralsemicolon · 4 months ago

Text

Wait until you like me again - 18+

See part 1 | Part 2 of We can't be friends (wait for your love) | See part 3

The decision to resign puts a lot of weight on your shoulders. A takedown gone wrong makes it the least of anyone's concerns, especially Spencer’s. You’re not willing to let him back in; it feels too little, too late.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact! You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. Part 2 was highly requested and I’m sorry it’s taken so long to finish.

WARNING Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, drugs (GHB), Case details (very poorly thought out). Violence: canon typical - strangulation, drugging, guns/gunshots. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

The most annoying part about making a decision in haste is the clarity of the situation when the dust settles. It’d taken Hotch just over two minutes to message you after you’d sent your email.

From: Boss Man 🕶 👔 My office, first thing tomorrow.

You didn’t take into account that you’d have to explain your sudden resignation to your unit chief, or that you’d need to think of a good enough goodbye to lessen the hurt of abandoning your friends. These are people you consider your found family; you’re leaving behind years worth of bonds with no proper warning or closure, in a measly few weeks. Your reasoning had to be good enough to convince them that this was for the best.

To convince you that this was for the best.

You’d spent the whole night in tears, racking your brain for an excuse, because ‘the person you care most about in this world and unrequited love of your life telling you that he didn’t want to see your face was a pathetic reason for discarding your life’s work. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t think of adequate justification. Even as the sun rose and you made your way through your pre-work routine, nothing came to mind.

“You can’t love me.”

Any time you tried to conjure up a defence your thoughts would wander back to Spencer. Too many words had been exchanged between you and your former best friend in the span of four months and not a single one of them properly explained why he was so butt-hurt. He loves you too much, but doesn’t want you to love him? That’s your understanding, at least.

“Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.”

Since you’d left his apartment the previous night, you’d been cycling through all the stages of grief in record time. Spencer once told you that people tend to remember more negative memories than positive. He was right. You couldn’t recall a lot of your happier memories with him. All you could think about was the two conversations where he’d hurt you in ways you never imagined he would.

You’re not sure exactly what part of you snapped at that moment, all you knew was that you were done making him the centre of your universe. Spencer Reid played no part in your decisions moving forward. He was not the reason for your departure with the BAU, a lie you made sure to relay to Hotch during your meeting with him.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. Where is this even coming from?” He inquired from across you, hands folded neatly against his desk.

“I just think it’s time for me to try new things, you know?” It was a pathetic excuse, but less pathetic than the actual reasoning.

“I try not to interfere with the personal lives of the team, but this is just so…sudden. I have to wonder if this has to do with Spencer?”

“This has nothing to do with him.” You go out of your way to avoid saying his name, suspecting you might taste poison.

Hotch’s brow raises, as if his brain has been alerted to key information, head marginally tilting to the side like it does when he catches a lie. He doesn’t say anything, eyes narrowing in on you in stoic fashion. You feel like a petulant child that’s about to receive a scolding from their father.

“Hon–Honestly…Hotch, I just–”

Three rapid knocks cut you off, the door to the office swinging open without waiting for a reply.

“Sir, Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt but it’s an emergency. That case we were consulting on for Anchorage PD?” Garcia bursts into the room, slightly discoloured and more panicked than normal. “Well, five more bodies were discovered. Two of them pre-date who we initially thought was the first victim.”

“Garcia, tell everybody to meet on the jet ASAP. We’ll debrief on the flight.” Hotch orders abruptly standing from his seat. “You and I can finish this meeting later. This case is now our top priority, wheels up.”

Emily, Rossi and Derek were already in their seats when you boarded. You secured your go bag in one of the overhead compartments and temporarily took a seat next to Derek.

“How bad do you think this one is gonna be?” Derek sighs, dreading the horrors that await your arrival.

“We’re up to thirty six bodies and counting. Whoever this unsub is, they’ve been at it a while. So, bad.” You answer honestly.

“Speaking of bad, is everything okay?”

“That was not even remotely smooth.” You scoff.

“I’m just asking as a concerned friend.” He shoots his hands up in defence.

“What happened to the days where we at least tried to mind our business. You know, at least asked each other about our weekend plans before jumping into interrogation mode.” You roll your eyes and smirk.

“Heyyy, woah– no one’s interrogating anyone.” Derek chuckles. “What are your plans for the weekend?”

It wasn’t long before everybody had made their way on the jet, Spencer being the last one. You didn’t notice his arrival, too engulfed in your conversation. He definitely noticed you though. The sound of your giggles caught his attention the second he was in ear shot. He didn’t like how warm he felt at the sight of your smiling face. What he disliked more was that he could instantly tell that it wasn’t a genuine smile.

He quietly made his way to his self assigned seat on the couch, trying his hardest to focus on anything but you. Every laugh that Morgan coaxed out of you bothered him. Spencer’s agony only ended once the jet had successfully taken off.

“Alright let’s get started.” Hotch declared and everybody moved to gather around.

With all the details laid out by Garcia through the monitor, everybody began stating facts and suggestions. You wrapped up soon enough and retreated to an isolated seat in the back of the jet. It was an almost eight hour flight, seven of which you were planning to use to come up with a solid plan to announce your departure. Life always has to throw a wrench in your plans though, because the lack of sleep from the night before caught up to you and you dozed off almost immediately. Had you any energy left in your body, you might have been privy to the eyes that were on you.

“She didn’t say anything as to what the meeting was about?” JJ hushedly pries from her raven haired co worker in the cramped kitchenette.

“No, but Garcia said that ‘the air in his office was really tense’.” Emily relays, her fingers mimicking quotation marks. “Did Hotch say anything?”

“No. He just gave me his usual dry look and told me to focus on the case.” JJ rolls her eyes at the thought and leans back against the counter.

Despite being the FBI’s most decorated task force, the agents of the BAU weren’t strangers to workplace gossip. You’d just entered the bullpen this morning when Hotch frantically summoned you to his office, not even giving you time to set your things down at your desk. Witnessing the events sparked a guessing game sparked amongst the team.

“Is it something we should know about?” Sitting across from Hotch, even Rossi succumbed to his curiosity.

“Dave you’re not normally one to pry.” Hotch smirks, keeping his eyes on the case-file laid out in front of him.

“No I’m not. But with the events of the past few months...” Rossi sips his coffee, staring at his younger superior expectantly. “...there’s been some talk Aaron.”

“Talk?” Hotch meets Rossi’s eyes.

“Mhm.” Rossi nods. “Apparently you’re transferring one of our two youngest members because they haven’t been able to put their differences aside.”

“I’m not transferring anyone. Where did this come from?” The alarm in his tone makes Rossi snicker.

“Office drama. You know how it is. And while you may not be transferring anybody,” he sets his mug down and looks towards where you’re sound asleep. “I’m guessing somebody is leaving. Hence this morning's meeting.”

“We’re not supposed to profile each other, you know.” Hotch sighs. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep this contained. I haven’t had a chance to properly discuss this with her yet and I think she’d prefer to break the news herself.”

As you had predicted the case was by no means an easy one. On the first day everybody was split into groups to follow up with the M.E, victims’ families and examine the crime scenes. All the evidence and information gathered wasn’t enough to narrow the profile any more than the generic: male, mid thirties to early forties, hates women. You were now three days in with no viable leads.

You were especially frustrated because you felt that you weren’t working as well as you could. The stress of your announcement was taking its toll, you were unable to properly converse with your team out of guilt. Hotch sent everyone back to their hotel rooms with the idea that you would start fresh tomorrow. Normally you would room with Spencer, but lately JJ and Emily have been taking turns rooming with both of you. This time you were with Emily.

“I think this may be the first night we’ve gotten to turn in early.” Emily yawns as she dramatically stretches her limbs.

“I’m just glad we got to turn in at all, for a while there it looked like we may have to pull another all nighter.” You force a giggle, exasperated.

“You okay?” She doesn’t miss a beat, taking the opportunity to ask about your uneasiness.

“Yeah, fine.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You’re going to snap at some point, you know?” She examines your closed off posture, trying to figure out a way to get you to open up. “Something’s clearly wrong. Talk to me.”

“We’re all on edge right now. It’s this case.” You hope that you’re being convincing enough.

“It's more than that. You’ve been distant from everybody.” Emily briefly thought back to the Ian Doyle debacle, recognising all the signs of somebody preparing to run away at any given moment.

“I’m aware that I’m not working to my full potential–”

“That’s not what I mean and you know that.” She steps closer to you. “I can’t force you to tell me whatever’s actually on your mind, but I would really appreciate it if you would. I hate seeing you so…detached. Not just from us, but from yourself.”

It’s the empathy in her voice instead of the usual sympathy that finally cracks you. Tears pool your eyes and you sink to the floor. Emily sits down next to you without a word. She tries to pull you in for a hug but you push away.

“Please don’t.” You sob. “I’m sorry.”

She squeezes your knee to relay that she understands and retracts her hand. Your discomfort with physical touch was another thing you had in common with Spencer. It was just a personal preference for you, unlike his germophobia. He was the only person you were actually comfortable with in terms of touch, but you couldn’t fault others for not respecting that boundary when you’d never verbalised it.

“I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to tell you guys, but I don’t think there’s any way this gets easier.” You recompose yourself after a moment. “I’m, um, leaving.”

You expect her to get upset with you, but find her unfazed.

“You don’t look surprised.”

“Well it’s not entirely surprising. I mean given everything that’s happened.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” She leans back with her mouth slightly open.

“Because I feel like I’m abandoning you guys.” You heavily exhale.

“You’re not abandoning us. You’re doing what you feel is right for you. I mean, am I happy about it? Definitely not. But I know better than anyone why you feel like you need to do this. And it’s not a decision you have to justify to anybody.” Emily reassures you.

“How do I tell everybody else?” You push for more advice.

“However you feel most comfortable doing it. It doesn’t have to be some big announcement. You can casually break it to them whenever you get the opportunity. They’ll understand.”

“Thank you, Em.” You genuinely smile this time, eternally grateful that she’s managed to take some pressure off your shoulders.

“Now while you’re in a mood to share…if you wanna talk about something else–” She attempts one last time to get you to talk about Spencer, sensing that the mood lightened a bit.

“Nice try.” You laugh as you rise to your feet, offering your arms out to her to help her stand.

The following two days were a lot easier on you, mentally. You took Emily’s advice and disclosed your news individually to each team member, each of them more understanding than you’d anticipated. You were surprised to learn that Rossi was already aware, assuming that it came with being a profiler for as long as he had. Derek and JJ did try to talk you out of it initially, but accepted your decision in the end. You still had to talk about this with Garcia, but felt a lot more at ease with mostly everybody knowing.

Except Spencer.

That thought lingered in the back of your mind. You still love him, it’s not something you can just turn off. You shake it off and divert your full attention to the case. Four more bodies had been discovered and with them, a new pattern to the killings. The unsub was devolving. You and Spencer were the only ones at the precinct when the last murder was called in. Meaning you were stuck working on the geographical profile with him while the others were out chasing new leads.

Realistically, only one of you was needed to build the profile and decided you were going to let him do it. You quietly sat in the furthest seat possible, trying to make yourself invisible and hoping that this would keep him busy enough to not talk to you. The whole week, you hadn’t uttered a single word to him unless it was absolutely necessary for the case. It was as if he didn’t exist, even if he was standing right infront of you. Spencer, on the other hand, spent the whole week prodding you for any reaction he could get. Anytime you made suggestions and he happened to be in the area, he tried to one up you.

At times it felt like he was purposely seeking you out, despite his brutal proclamation five days ago. Every attempt to rile you up failed. The most acknowledgement he got from you was a few scoffs and glares. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it, until Derek asked him point blank what his problem was. He didn’t have an answer, but now that he was aware of it he tried to go out of his way to avoid it.

That didn’t last more than a few hours. The fact that he had to consciously avoid talking to you pissed him off, especially because he couldn’t stop. You pretending like he didn’t exist pissed him off even more. The one time he took his eyes off the board in front of him they landed on you. You were busy scribbling words in a file, trying to get a head start on your paperwork.

“Do you plan to help at all?” He sneers, noticing that you looked a lot more relaxed than you did at the start of the case.

You snap your head towards the board behind him. A rough venn diagram was drawn on a map of the city, small tacked notes labelling prominent buildings in the area.

“How am I meant to help?” You question, darting your eyes between him and the board out of confusion.

“You’re asking me how to do your job?” He taunts, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

You dramatically groan, throwing your head back.

It’s hard to believe that he’s a man of logic in moments like these. There have been far too many in the last few months. You bounce off your seat and head over to the board. Spencer stays glued in his spot and your body accidentally brushes against his as you try to get past. He watches you take off some notes and add on new ones but doesn’t register what you’re doing at first. He’s too intoxicated by your scent. His hand runs through his hair as he steps back in an effort to regain his composure. His teeth grit and his jaw tenses momentarily, he hates that you have the ability to do this to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The pitch of his voice raises and his ears are burning.

“What do you mean?” You roll your eyes, shrugging your arms, sarcasm laced in your words.

“Don’t try to act all dumb!” He berates, shaking his head.

“Don’t try to act all smart.” Your eyes roll again. Spencer was slowly starting to wear down your apathy.

“I am smart.” He scoffs. Your blood boils, this trump card is becoming too repetitive.

“Savour that, it’s the one good thing you’ve got going for you!” You finally snap.

“You’re UNBELIEVABLE! The first time you bother to answer me all week and it’s just to argue?” He’s trying his best to refrain from yelling.

“Oh! You’ve been trying to start an argument all week and now that I’m giving in you can’t take it?! Actually, why have you been trying so hard, Doctor? I was under the impression that you can’t even stand to look at my face!”

He dryly swallows, unable to respond immediately. The reminder of his words makes him internally cringe. He never meant to say them. It was the most efficient way he could think of at that time to hurt you. Spencer hadn’t anticipated the sheer amount of will power it would take to stay away from you. You seeking him out made it infinitely harder. His fake disdain was a defence mechanism, he was hiding behind hatred to get the job done.

“YOU–”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hotch loudly cuts him off.

Neither you nor Spencer noticed the teams return during your squabble. You’re slightly embarrassed, wondering how much they’ve witnessed. Spencer turns away from you and looks to the blank wall on the other side of the room. You look to the floor and bite the inside of your cheek.

“Care to explain what’s going on?” He grills and you feel like a petulant child receiving a lecture from your father.

“She wasn’t doing her job!” Spencer complains. “And when I brought it up she messed up my profile!”

“God you’re insufferable! It’s called ‘narrowing the profile’, Spencer. Maybe if you did it properly, I wouldn’t have to.” You retort.

“Hey!” Hotch scolds.

It falls silent for a second, awkward glances finding their way around the room. Rossi breaks it first.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were bickering toddlers instead of FBI agents.”

You make eye contact with Morgan trying to hold in a laugh and it makes you snort.

“We will discuss this later. Let’s focus on the updates we’ve gathered.” Hotch dismisses due to more pressing matters at hand.

“After talking to friends of the latest victims, I can confirm that they were all last seen in the same club.” JJ pipes up first.

“And the dumpsites are all less than twenty minutes away from there. He’s definitely not holding them anymore.” Morgan adds.

“That has to be where he’s choosing his victims. Did the medical examiner find anything new?” Hotch asks.

“Traces of GHB.” Emily replies. “We don’t know how he’s administering it into their systems, but my guess would be through the drinks.”

“Gamma-hydroxybutyrate, mostly known as GHB, is a party drug that produces feelings of euphoria, confidence, relaxation and sociability. Side effects of GHB can include drowsiness, vomiting, mood swings, dependence, as well as more serious symptoms of unconsciousness. When mixed with alcohol the risk of overdose increases as it can cause respiratory collapse leading to coma or in extreme cases death.” Spencer’s about to continue but quickly recognises that it’s a tangent he needs to cut short.

“Wait JJ what club were the victims last seen in?” You inquire, walking closer to the map.

When she relays the name it clicks.

“That’s smack in the middle of the comfort zone.” You point at a small red note labelling the building.

“So how do we catch this guy? I mean the club would be packed and we don’t know what this guy looks like. The profile tells us that he would blend in, nothing would stand out about him.” Morgan subtly suggests a string operation.

“Except for when he’s alone with the object of his rage. Which in our case would be the women he’s using as surrogates. He'd be possessive, become clingy, hold on too tight and once those advances are rejected he’d fly into blind rage.” Spencer exclaims without realising the weight of his input.

“Yeah…but he has a very specific type.” Rossi hesitates.

A fact that everybody had been avoiding the case because of how close it hit to home.

You’re his exact type.

“No.” Hotch shuts down.

“Hotch, think about it. I mean this guy is not slowing down. A sting might be our best bet to stop him before he kills again.” JJ shares Rossi’s hesitation.

“It’s too risky!” Spencer blurts, making it clear he’s against the idea.

Everyone begins to chime in with their input, but you stay silent and think it over. None of them wanted to put you in this position, but you’d seen the bodies and what he’d done to those women. What he’ll continue to do to other women if he isn’t stopped. It was a no brainer on your end.

“I’ll do it!” You announce amidst the chatter.

It comes to an immediate halt, all eyes shifting on you.

“What?” Spencer scoffs.

You can tell that he’s genuinely surprised by the small hitch in his voice. Emily sceptically calls your name, posing it as a question.

“I’ll do it.” You reiterate, taking care to seem as confident as possible.

“Absolutely not! The odds of this going wrong are way too high!” Spencer howls with a little too much passion.

“Reid’s right. The unsub is way too unpredictable.” Hotch debates.

“JJ has a point, think about it!” You argue. “We know for a fact that he’s going to strike tonight. Sending me undercover as bait is better than staking out the place and waiting for him to target a civilian!”

“Okay so let’s send somebody else!” Spencer contests, his tone prayerful.

For a split second, you see your best friend again. He’s showing more regard for you now than he has in months and it makes your heart sink knowing it won’t be forever. Still, you try to reason with him while he’s there.

“There’s no time! I fit his type. This is our best option.”

“No, this is stupid and dangerous. You’re not going in there!” He’s gone again.

“That’s not your call to make!” You snap.

“Hotch no!” Spencer tries again.

“Kid, relax! This isn’t her first undercover mission.” Morgan attempts to calm Reid. “Plus we’ll all be there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Statistically–”

“For God’s sake forget the fucking statistics! People’s lives are at stake!” You loudly end his tangent before it can begin.

“Alright, everybody calm down!” Hotch speaks up, making it a point to stare down Spencer.

He’d made his decision and Spencer can only stare back in disbelief, too breathless to argue.

‘Like Morgan said, we’ll be there watching over you, along with some local law enforcement. You won’t be wired, but we’ll have a fail safe just in case you need backup earlier than expected. We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s get to work.” The unit chief asserts.

Before anyone can make any further moves, Spencer storms out of the room. JJ runs after him, assuring Hotch that she’ll take care of it. The rest of you break off to your assigned tasks, preparing for the operation that night.

“Spence! Slow down!” She yells, chasing him all the way outside the precinct.

He’s breathing too fast, practically on the edge of hyperventilating. He pushes his hair back with both of his hands, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

“Spence what the hell is going on with you?” JJ pants, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Me?!” Spencer yanks himself away from her. “What the hell is going on with all of you?! You’re all insane for allowing her to do this!”

“She’s a grown woman and a trained agent! This is her decision. She knows what she’s getting herself into.” JJ reminds him.

“Well it’s not a very smart decision! She shouldn’t be making decisions this…this reckless!” He shrieks.

“Okay you need to calm down!” JJ sternly states.

“Jennifer, do not tell me to calm down! She’s about to make herself a direct target for a psychopathic sadist and you’re all just letting it happen!”

“So what? Should we let some innocent woman become his next target?”

“No! I’m not saying we should– just– why does it have to be her?!” The emphasis on his last word gives him away, JJ picks up on it instantly.

“That’s what this is about? C’mon you know better than this.” She relaxes her shoulders. “Spencer, we all care about her. We all want her to be safe. And she will be as long as we separate out feelings from–”

“Feelings? This has nothing to do with how I feel–”

“Okay stop! Stop! God!” JJ huffs with pauses between her words. “I am so sick of this! This is clearly about your feelings. The past four months have all been about–”

She smacks her hands against her face as she takes a deep breath, a display of frustration.

“Listen to me.” She commands, exhausted from the back and forth. “It’s clear that you two care deeply for each other, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Neither of you will talk about whatever it is that’s caused this rift– fine! But don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet now that she’s leaving?”

Spencer freezes.

“...Leaving?” He repeats, taken off guard.

JJ takes a moment to read his expression.

“She didn’t tell you?” JJ mutters, still scanning his face.

“What– what are you…” He can’t find the words, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to process her words.

“She’s resigning, Spencer. She’s leaving the FBI.” JJ can’t hide how she’s surprised that you haven’t shared this with him.

“No, that's not possible. She loves this job. Why would she leave?” Denial is his first response.

Spencer thinks over your possible motivations and can only land on the obvious. You’d only leave if you grew to hate the job.

Did he do this? Did he make you hate it?

“We were all surprised when she first told us, I mean, it came out of nowhere.”

“We?” He rubs his temple, anticipating a possible migraine from the bomb that just dropped on him. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you guys known?” He balefully sighs, trying his hardest to not misplace his anger.

“It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.”

He had no one to be angry at, but himself.

“A day? Maybe two? She told us individually. Honestly with this case I haven’t had time to wrap my head around it.” JJ honestly reveals.

So not long. Maybe you were still making your way around to telling him? You wouldn’t just leave without so much as telling him, would you?

A few months ago, Spencer would’ve confidently answered no. Today he was sure that you would. He so badly hoped that he was wrong.

“Spence, look, we can talk about this later. But right now, you need to make sure you’re able to stay objective. Can you do that?”

He nods relentlessly, tucking his hair behind his ears. A habit he adapted early in life. It was an indicator of the gears turning in his head. JJ gives him a few more minutes outside before guiding him back in to help with preparations. Spencer absentmindedly performed his tasks, but all he could think about was you.

You’re leaving and he’s the only person you hadn’t disclosed this information to. Abandonment was a feeling he was all too used to, but he never imagined that you’d abandon him. He knows that he can only blame himself, but he still can’t help the irritation that’s creeping in his veins.

Even as he straps up his hidden bullet proof vest hours later, he can’t push the sentiment away. You were setting yourself up as bait for one of the most dangerous types of serial killers. On top of purposely putting yourself in direct line danger, you were leaving without telling him. He would’ve showed up to work one day and you’d be gone.

Right now he stands just a few feet away from you and you don’t look toward him once. No one would be able to guess that you’re undercover. It’s amazing how you’ve managed to transform yourself from supervisory special agent to a regular socialite and party girl in a couple of hours.

If he could overcome the hurt he feels at the moment, he might see how breathtaking you look. Then again, you always appear breathtaking to him. Before he knows it, he’s walked right up to you. You don’t feel his presence looming behind you until you bump into him when you turn around.

“Shit Spencer!” You jump, mostly because of the nerves from the upcoming night.

He’s about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Don’t start! I’m not in the mood.” You brush him off and disappear out of sight.

It was like that for much of the preparations. He’d muster the courage to try and talk to you, and you’d walk away. Much like how Spencer would avoid you when your friendship first fell apart.

“Everybody in position?” Hotch inquires through his ear piece.

“Affirmative.” Morgan gives the greenlight for your entry into the club.

You made your way to the bar, making it a point to sit alone. You didn’t have to wait long. Archie Carter, 36, cheated on by his ex fiance before their wedding. She ran away with another man because Archie failed to keep his sadistic traits hidden and it scared her off. Torturing and murdering women who looked like her was his way of giving her a real reason to be scared.

This was all information Garcia found after it was nearly too late. He’d managed to get you on the dance floor, subtly injecting you with the GHB. You didn’t even feel him do it. To everybody else it just seemed like you were playing your part really well on the dance floor, when in reality you were struggling to stand up. You couldn’t give out any signals and he was able to slip you away into the back alley under the noses of five FBI agents.

It was Spencer who’d found you fighting for your life against Archie’s grip around your throat. Spencer, who put the bullet in Archie’s head after being unable to talk him down. Spencer who kneeled above you, begging you to come back as he began CPR. If he’d found you any later you might’ve been gone for good.

Pissed was an understatement.

At the piece of shit that almost ripped you away from the world. At Hotch and the team for not listening. At himself for being right. Not you though, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t pissed at you. He was terrified. Both for you and for almost losing you.

You had to stay a few extra days in Anchorage, bound to your hospital room. The team refused to fly back without you, each of them taking turns to keep you company. They all felt an immense amount of guilt but you reassured them that it wasn’t their fault. Your tongue grew tired of reminding them that this was a part of the job. Rossi joked that it was a good thing you were leaving it all behind in that case and it stung more than you were willing to admit.

In your brush with death you came to the revelation that you didn’t want to leave, but hearing Spencer’s voice lull you back to him confirmed that you needed to. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear him talk everyday and not be the person he was talking to. It was why you had basically barred him from visiting you during your recovery there. Seeing his face was more than you could handle at the time. Not seeing yours weighed on him, because he needed to see if you were okay.

Physically, he knew you’d be fine once the doctors confirmed it. Mentally, he knew all too well of the repercussions that came with almost dying directly by the hands of an unsub. You’d been discharged and cleared fifty eight hours after you were admitted, and the team was ready to fly back a few hours later. All the signs of being less than okay were there. He recognised them as soon as he saw you board the jet.

Besides the obvious bruises collaring your neck, there was some minor swelling that lingered. That wasn’t his biggest concern. It was the smile plastered on you when you put on your ‘I’m okay’ act for the others. Your eyes, like always, gave you away. You were already trying to sweep everything under the rug. Less than a few minutes after take off you isolated yourself in the back. You’d been doing that a lot in your recent cases.

It irked him how everybody just let you. He decided right then that he wasn’t going to. He didn’t care how much you hate him, he was going to ensure that you came out of this truly okay. You were mindlessly staring out the window, counting the clouds, listening to the music playing through your headphones. You tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. You’d felt like that since you came to, in the alley.

It took you a second to understand that you were actually being watched, turning to find Spencer in the previously empty seat across from you.

“You’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me.” You snark, ripping off your headphones, still recovering from the small jump scare.

“Sorry.” He chuckles out of habit.

You unintentionally smile at the sound and find yourself staring in his eyes.

“Are–” He falters as he thinks the question over in his head. “Is there anything I can get you?”

You’re taken aback, not expecting those words. You had a script prepared to waive off questions about your well being. He knows you better than that, throwing you off course as usual.

“What do you want?” You grumble, accepting that you couldn’t get past him.

“I want to know if there’s anything I can get you.” He repeats in a low tone.

There he is again. The Spencer you know and love. Your heart threatens to leap.

“If this is to clear some guilty conscience, don’t bother.” You verbally guard yourself. “I’m fine.”

It would be a lie if he said his reasoning was completely selfless. He was hardly able to keep away from you without feeling like he was drowning, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he thought he may have lost you forever. The feeling didn’t last very long, he was able to revive you within a few seconds, but never feeling like that again would be too soon.

Spencer believed in two things; statistics and facts. One fact he refused to ignore any longer is that he couldn’t live without you. He quietly opened that satchel that still clung across his torso, fishing out some pain killers and an unopened water bottle.

“I know you probably forgot to take yours out of your bag.” He ignores your previous comment and slides the items across the table to you.

Your gaze lingers on the items in front of you, but your hands stay folded in your lap as you piece everything together.

“You know.” You whisper.

“Were you going to tell me?” He gulps after a beat of silence.

“Does it matter?” You're quick to respond.

“I wanna hear it from you.” He’s just as fast.

You look up from the leaf of pills, he’s already surveilling you. It’s a short lived staring contest because your focus shifts behind him to Hotch, who’s observing this encounter from the kitchenette on the other end. Spencer continues waiting on you for a response but you stand up, ready to walk away. It dawns on you when you see your supervisor that technically you hadn’t officially resigned yet. The paperwork never got started because this case took priority and that was a detail you needed to sort out right away.

“Don’t go.” Spencer pleads when you take your first step.

Was it a request to sit back down or to stay with the BAU? You didn’t bother to clarify, he had no right to ask for either.

You let out a deep, exasperated sigh as you lie curled up in your warm sheet, scowling at the floor beneath you. It seemed that the universe (your friends) had it out to delay your departure as much as possible. It’s been four days since your return from Anchorage and you’ve been stuck in your apartment since Hotch dropped you off here. He’s ordered mandatory time off for your recovery, meaning the paperwork has to wait.

You could be using this time in a more productive manner. You could be searching for a new job. And a new place to live. You should be trying to figure out where this new place would be. You never actually thought that far ahead. In your haste to run away, you forgot to plan your next steps. You’ve convinced yourself that you can’t do any of it until the forms are filled out.

The ‘universe’ isn’t the only thing delaying you.

If you really wanted to, you could have everything emailed to you. You can have it done online, but there are two major problems. The first is pretty straight forward; you’re not ready to leave. You know that this is the best course of action for everybody, but your brain and your heart are at an impasse. You’ve dedicated years to this job because you love this job. Unfortunately, you love Spencer more, which means that staying is going to drive you to hate your job.

The other reason is slightly more nuanced and you don’t want to think about it, opting to let your impasse be the reason for your lack of motivation to do anything other than bed rotting. It’s not as bad as it seems, it’s more self care than anything. Your body’s telling you it needs to rest and you’re simply obliging. Plus, it couldn’t be that serious if you still had bursts when you had to keep up appearances. You have to be okay if you’re able to force yourself to open the front door for your coworkers when they come to check on you. You really weren’t that miserable if you managed to smile and laugh for their short visits.

And it’s not like you’re truly rotting. You showered quite often, you actually just had your second one today. You were definitely okay if you could manage to keep up with hygiene. It’s not excessive, you need to scrub the purple away. You know that’s not how it works, but you can’t stand to look at the parts of your neck where his hands were wrapped around. If you close your eyes for long enough you can still feel him squeezing until–

You’re okay.

No, you’re irritated. The incessant knocking on your front door won’t stop no matter how much you ignore it. You were relieved when evening came. It meant that normal visiting hours were over and you could rest today. If it wasn’t any of your usual visitors then it had to be stranger. The thought made you uneasy, you hesitated to answer it at all.

You can’t live in fear all the time.

The door eventually opens and Spencer sees you for the first time in days. He actually tried to check on you earlier, but Penelope insisted everybody stick to her roster so you don’t get overwhelmed. The circles under your eyes were almost as dark as his, you hadn’t been getting much sleep. The swelling around your throat was almost all gone, but the bruising wasn’t healing like he expected it to.

“Spencer…what are you doing here?” Your voice is hoarse.

“I brought take out.” He gently dangles a bag of food in front of him, his voice high, but quiet.

You can practically smell the contents of the bag, nostalgia hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was your favourite thing to order on the days he’d come over for movie nights. Before Spencer showed you a side of him you didn’t know existed. It felt like a taunt, like he was twisting the metaphorical knife he plunged in your heart. It made you sick.

“I already ate.” You lie, mustering a dull smile on your face.

Spencer swallows and bites the inside of his cheek, not taking his eyes off you. Trying to think of the best way to call you out without causing you to shun him.

“We can do something else until you’re hungry again.” He gives a tight lipped smile and raises his furrowed brows, like he’s pleading for you to accept his offer.

“I don’t think I’ll be hungry anytime soon.” You awkwardly laugh– well it’s close to a laugh if not for your strained vocal chords.

“Can I come in anyway? We can put on a movie.” He’s using the voice he used to when trying to comfort you or convince you of something. Soft, low, steady. It’s a stark contrast to the voice you’ve been hearing for the last ten days.

Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.

Tears threaten the composure you’re working so hard to maintain.

“Why are you really here?” You sigh, unable to stick with the pleasantries.

“I told you.” He emphasises the bag of food in his hands again. “Take out. Maybe a movie–”

“Cut the shit.” You assert, harshly. “You can tell Penelope that you came to see me so she gets off your back, but please stop pretending like you care.”

“That’s…is that why you think I’m here?” His shoulders drop.

“Isn’t it?” You bite, your door now wide open as you lean against it for support. Your legs are aching to curl into your chest again.

“No.” His reply is short and clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I’m here because I want to be here.”

“Why? There’s nothing in it for you.” You scoff, blinking from confusion. “Unless…is this some sick game? Seeing me like this– knowing that I’m– are you trying to gloat?”

“Gloat?” He repeats in almost a whisper, the hurt in his voice evident.

“Relish, rejoice, rub it in, I don’t know. You’re the walking thesaurus.”

He can tell from your lax posture that you're amused. Your back is against your door, hands behind your back and you’re leaning forward a bit as you stare at the ground. Not caring that your words cut deep.

Is this how low you think he is?

“Why would I be enjoying this?” His hopeful smile drops entirely as he tries to understand you.

“Call it epicaricacy.” You shrug.

“Epicaricacy?” He mumbles in a whispered tone, like he’s trying to process what you said.

Deriving pleasure from the misfortune of others.

Your eyes roll from how slow he’s acting and you have to hold yourself back from repeating the definition out loud.

“Do you honestly think I enjoy seeing you like this?” The change in pitch stings a bit.

“No, I don’t think you like seeing me at all.” You half smirk up at him, sadness evident in your eyes. “Which brings us back to…why are you here Doc?”

“That’s not true.” He cringes, ignoring the second part.

“Not true?” You wiggle your brows sarcastically.

“Not true.” He reaffirms, sighing deeply. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry.” You scoff again, shaking your head.

“I know that I’ve been unreasonable–”

“Unreasonable?” The tip of your tongue rolls against the back of your teeth, bewildered at his sheer audacity.

“A dick! I’ve been a dick.” He corrects himself, desperate to have you hear him out.

You tighten your jaw, inhaling lightly through your nose and your brows are raised as high as they can go.

“I was hurt. Okay? I wash lashing out, but, I–” He takes a deep breath to stop himself, wanting to get to the point. “I know that I’ve been acting otherwise but, I care about you. And when I found you back there…I just…I know what you’re going through, even if you won’t admit it. I don’t want you to go through it alone.”

Your expression softens as he speaks. Of course he knows. He knows you better than anyone. For a moment you consider allowing yourself to break down in his arms, like you would have once. It’s jarring, Spencer reverting to his former self after he saved your life. The comfort swiftly bubbles into anger. All your attempts for reconciliation were met with so much hostility before. It took you almost dying for him to care. It feels too little too late. The only thing you can think of as he stands next to you is all the ways he can further hurt you if you let him. You push off your door and stand straight, giggling bitterly.

“Spencer, go home.” You say with the same bitterness.

“Please–”

“Go home! I don’t want your pity!” You yell. It feels alleviating. “Do you honestly think that anything changes just because you saved my life? Do you think it erases everything that’s happened in the past few months? Because it doesn’t! Things can’t go back to how they were simply because you feel bad that I almost died. It’s not a flip you can switch. You don’t just get to start caring!”

You're heaving and he can only stare at the ground. He knows you’re right, except for the one crucial error in your speech.

“I never stopped caring.” He mumbles.

This fucking idiot.

Enraged, sad, frustrated, confused; all emotions you’ve been suppressing that are now fighting to show at the same time. You take a step closer to him and he meets your eyes again. You can see that he’s holding back tears, same as you. It fuels you in a twisted way. You have an opportunity to hurt him the way he hurt you and you don’t let it go to waste.

“Don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work to see your face at work, I don’t want to see it in my personal time too.”

You can’t stay to see the effects of his words thrown back at his face, your heart’s threatening to burst from how fast it’s racing. His jaw locks from how tense he is. He knows exactly why you said it, but it’s still hard to hear. You turn around and rush into your apartment, shutting the door on his face, leaving him standing there. You don’t make it too far inside, collapsing on the wooden floor with a choked sob.

That didn’t make you feel as good as you thought it would. You hoped that maybe if you could make him feel at least a fraction of you’re feeling, you’d hurt less. It was more than just getting back at him for everything he’s done. You were unknowingly trying to punish him for what Archie Carter did too. It didn’t make you hurt any less, but at least you felt less alone in your hurt.

He didn’t come back for the rest of your time off. Everybody continued to follow the roster, showing up on their days and bringing you ‘get well soon’ goodies. Penelope even invited herself over for a night's stay once. You didn’t have the heart to say no, but you found yourself counting the hours until you’d be alone again, free to wallow. The only respite you got for the next week was on Spencer’s days. You could expect to be left mostly alone, only a bag of take out accompanied by an eerily fitting quote sitting outside your door.

You hate to admit that those were your favourite days. You had a chance to breathe and he somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear. You gave the food away in protest and the quote would go straight in the bin (once you read it). One final psych evaluation later you were cleared to come back. Not that you needed one since you didn’t plan to stay for long. It was really just a formality. By the time you returned only a few faded bruises remained, easy enough to cover with concealer.

“You’re back! Ooh, it’s so good to see you!” Garcia was the first with a warm greeting and a tight hug. You reciprocated to the best of your ability.

“Good to have you back, Pretty Girl.” Derek’s second, walking you through the bullpen as you make your way to Hotch’s office.

“Enjoy it while you can.” You giggle in reply. “Is Hotch in yet?”

“I see someone can’t wait to leave us.” Emily jokes, feigning a hurt look. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, he’s expecting you.” JJ laughs, slapping Emily’s arm playfully.

“Thanks JJ!” You smile and they all watch you disappear behind the door.

“So it’s official? She’s really leaving?” JJ questions through a half-hearted smile.

“I asked Rossi and he said that Hotch is gonna ask her to stay until we find a replacement.” Emily replies, still eyeing the door.

“How did you get Rossi to admit that?” JJ turns to the raven head, questioningly, and Emily smiles coyly giving no response.

“Am I the only one who thinks this whole thing would end once they make up? I mean come on, we all know she’s leaving because of him, right?” Morgan looks at Spencer, who’s nose deep in a file at his desk.

“Yeah, but we can’t help if they refuse to talk to us about it.” Emily sighs, hanging her head back.

The three dive deeper into their discussion and you’re none the wiser from inside the cream-coloured walls of Hotch’s office. As per protocol, he’s just finished informing you of what’s next and you’re kind enough to accept his request to stay until they find a replacement. You definitely said yes because you want to make the team’s transition easier, not for any self indulgent reasons such as you not being ready to leave.

“Just return this to me once you’ve filled it out.” He instructs as he hands you a file containing your resignation forms.

“Thanks Hotch.” You smile, grabbing the file.

You begin heading towards the door when he stops you by your name.

“I understand that you’re set on this decision, but I am sad to see you go.” It’s insane how many emotions this man can get across while maintaining a blank expression. “However, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.”

“Thanks Hotch.” You playfully scoff, appreciating that even he has to try at least once.

If one more person tries though, you might scream. It wasn’t easy, pretending that you weren’t crumbling inside. The extra pressure doesn’t make it any easier. You leave his office, closing the door behind you and approach your desk. The resignation forms are put aside for later as you still have to finish your case report from Anchorage. Part of you wanted to put it off until the last minute, the other part wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

“Coffee?” Penelope chirps, holding out a mug filled with the hot beverage.

“Thanks Pen.” You smile up at her, taking it out of her hands.

“No problem.” She smirks mischievously and trots off.

A strange lady, but your strange lady.

Upon your first sip you almost choke it out. It was perfect. Exactly to your liking. Which would be a good thing, except only one person knows exactly how you like it. Back when you first joined, you learned how popular coffee was with all the employees. You felt out of place because you weren’t a massive fan of the drink and you avoided too much sugar because it made you feel sick. You soon discovered that you liked it a lot more with honey instead. It was a weird preference, but it worked for you, making it sweet without overpowering your senses like sugar did.

You never declined a cup when offered by your colleagues, not wanting to dishearten them. It was Spencer who caught you sneaking honey into your cup when you thought no one was paying attention. He never mentioned anything to you, but the next time he returned with a cup to offer, you couldn’t help but the smile that adorned your face for the rest of the day. It was why you dedicated yourself to morning breakfast runs for him, memorising his coffee order as a silent thank you. Neither of you ever talked about it.

You spin your seat around to find Spencer engaged in conversation with Rossi. You consider walking past him and dumping the beverage in the sink to make a point, but it was a welcome energiser for the dreadful task at hand. Plus you aren’t wasteful. You spin back around and decide to accept it just this once.

When he’s sure you’re no longer looking he sets his sights back on you. A small smile forms across his lips when he sees you drink the coffee. He honestly expected you to throw it away. He feared that if he was the one to deliver the mug, you’d throw it on him. It was why he convinced Garcia to do it, bribing her by promising to buy a round of drinks on the next night out.

“Kid, are you even listening?” Rossi scolds in an incredulous way.

As the hours pass, your frustration grows. You couldn’t get yourself to write the details of the case. Your mind refused to think about it. You had hoped that taking breaks would make it easier, but everytime you returned to the page your head went blank.

“Need some help?” Spencer asks, spawning next to you.

“Christ, Reid!” You blurt, startled. “I thought I told you to stop doing that.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles as if on cue.

You glare at him expectantly. He doesn’t say anything, glancing between you and the unfinished case file, waiting for an answer.

“No thanks.” You keep it short, hoping he takes the hint.

“Let me know if you do.” He doesn’t.

“You wouldn’t even be the last person I’d ask if I did.” You snark.

“But you would eventually?” He stays calm, almost playful.

Smart ass.

You choose to ignore him, be the bigger person and all that. Even though he wasn’t antagonising you.

“Thanks for the coffee.” It’s forceful gratitude. You weren’t feeling grateful, but you still had manners.

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t make it again.”

“I will not.” He grins and walks away to his desk.

You act like you don’t know he’s watching you work. Looking up often to find you stuck on the same page. Even if he knew that you know, he didn’t plan to stop. What he does know is that you’d never directly let him help you. He doesn’t care. There weren’t any new cases this week, so a ton of paperwork was to be expected. It’s taunting enough to write down details of your own assault, the extra paperwork would only add more stress. You’re too busy trying to push through the mental blockade to notice the sudden influx of files on his desk and the efflux on yours.

What you didn’t miss was how the next cup of coffee you were offered was just as perfect as the one from before.

“I thought I told you to stop with the coffee, Reid.” You lightly slam the paper cup on Spencer’s desk.

He leans back in his seat and chews on his lip with an entertained smirk.

“And I did. That’s not from me.” He’s earnest with his response.

“Oh, so JJ just happens to know my coffee preferences all of a sudden?” You sarcastically retort, crossing your arms.

“No.” He crosses his fingers across his lap. “I told her how you like your coffee when she said she was going on a coffee run.”

“And why did you do that?” You play along, unenthusiastically.

“Because you told me to stop doing it.” He states in the most casual way possible.

This was getting you nowhere. It was naive to think he’d let you spend your last few weeks here peacefully. Scratch that– he was being peaceful. Too peaceful. A new tactic to get under your skin?

“Stop. It.” The delivery of your words is slow and emphasised.

“Stop doing exactly what you’ve told me to?”

You bite your tongue and glare at him. His face, shoulders, arms, everything, is relaxed. You can’t even argue with him. You take a moment to consider how bad it would be if you bashed his head in with the back of your gun. Then you take another to critique how easy it is to pass the psych evals. They should really think about the consequences of using questions the BAU wrote on actual BAU agents.

After that day you went back to ignoring him. Any time coffee was offered you’d decline altogether. If he attempted to try and talk to you, you’d respond with yes or no for the sake of professionalism. This didn’t deter Spencer though. He gave you your space but kept a close eye on you, continuing to try and ease your burdens from afar. Exactly how he used to.

This only lasted until the next case came in. Specifically until you were back out on the field, where he perceived you to be in high amounts of danger. You tolerated it because it gave you comfort, not that you’d ever tell him. Having Spencer by your side made it easier to deal with the reality that there’s little you can do if another incident like Anchorage occurred.

Plus focusing your energy on ignoring him kept the flashbacks away. Or it did, until the take down. You once again found yourself in danger from an unsub, only this time the situation was controlled. All guns were pointed at the killer, except for the one that was pointed at you. The plan was simple: you talk down the unsub, take him back to the station and talk him into exposing his partner.

Everything was going according to plan, until Spencer realised that one of the cops in the room was his partner and he was about to shoot you. Nobody understood what happened before the situation calmed down. Spencer had fired the first shot towards the dirty cop and immediately tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the hail of bullets that followed after. All you remember clearly is freezing up, clinging to the man on top of you. One moment you were screaming out, trying to make sure that he was okay and the next you were back in the alley behind the bar, fighting for your life.

You didn’t comprehend anything until the panic attack subsided but Spencer was fine. His vest caught the bullets. Both unsubs were dead. Rossi and Prentiss came to the realisation the same time as Spencer and were quick to react. And you weren’t in the alley. You were in Spencer’s arms as he led you away from the scene when it was safe.

When you snapped out of it the medics had cleared him of any injuries. He tried to approach you during your check up, but you shoved him away, unable to even look at him. The only thing you remember clearly is Hotch sending you all back to your hotel rooms before tomorrow’s flight back. You should be asleep right now, if not from the exhaustion of today’s events alone, then from how long you spent reassuring everybody that you were okay.

You couldn’t sleep. Not when so many thoughts were occupying your headspace. This is the second time Spencer’s saved your life, in the span of roughly a month. The first time he’s put his life in direct danger to save yours. Had it not been for his vest he would be dead. The more you linger on it, the angrier you’d become. You were also wearing a vest, you would’ve been fine. What he did was unnecessary and reckless.

What if the bullet missed the vest? Entered through the side? What was he thinking?

You were mentally fighting the urge to barge into his room and yell at him for his stupidity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to him. What happens to him is not your problem anymore. You aren’t going to let your guard down just because he’s an idiot.

Spoilers: BAU! Reader, Reader almost dies, Reader and Spencer are pissing me off, bc they’re so dumb, angst, hurt no comfort, Reader gets a little revenge.

AN - Before you comment ANYTHING, there is one more part. It’ll be posted a lot sooner than this one was. Writing this made me realise how limited the English language is. There’s only so many words to use and ways to write them. If either part sounds repetitive at times, it’s not my fault!!! Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

If you comment you garner good karma for yourself and that could lead to you meeting MGG someday (I’m not liable if this never happens), think about that...

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #ssa spencer reid #bau team #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #angst fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #fem!reader #dr spencer reid #; fics

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ilyuan · 11 months ago

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⋆ ˚ ꩜ "you're the most handsome man i know" trope hehe

PAIRINGS. alhaitham 〳 zhongli 〳 wriothesley x gn . reader

CW. jealousy lawl 〳 insecure bbies but u reassure them 〳 slight ooc characters 〳 lmk if i missed anything :]

NOTE. i know jing yuan is the header but shh he's adorable so we don't talk about it

ALHAITHAM ꒱

with the gray haired sleepy head "resting his eyes" on your lap as he quoted, your eyes couldn't help but drift towards the small features you always adored so very much.

"haitham," you randomly spoke, to which he looked up to you, his eyes weary and his throat raspy as he eyes you up and down, waiting for you to say the oh-so-important thing that interrupted his peaceful sleep.

"you know you're really pretty, right?" you smiled, his eyes shutting for two seconds then opening again as soon as he heard your words, i mean, you tell him that everyday, so why would he overthink about it?

you notice his confused state, and so you begin to speak once more, not knowing that your words would sent a mental alarm in him.

"i mean," you pause, "you are the most handsome man i know."

as much as you like the small pink rising across his cheeks, it instantly fades away as he glares up at you.

"what?" you glare back at him jokingly, basically just trying to test the waters.

of course you knew how alhaitham was like, but what you didn't know is that he can get insecure from time to time but you're completely unaware of it.

with kaveh always bugging him about something that happened in the akademiya, he can hardly catch the peaceful moments with you like this, which led you to your obliviousness to his insecurities that formed when he was away from you.

"you know other men?" he finally speaks.

"..."

"just accept the compliment," you playfully roll your eyes, to which he turns his head away from you to.

"no no, i'm sorry, you're the only man i know," you quickly reassure, to which his eyes practically light up to.

ZHONGLI ꒱

in the middle of you and zhongli's conversation that involved his unusual gossiping about his stressful day at work today, he cleared his throat, a usual sign that he was about to change the topic.

"what is it?" you instantly notice his eyes forming into almost pleading ones, which was very unusual for him.

"could you grab me a cup of tea real quick? i've been feeling a bit dehydrated during this conversation," he speaks, patting you on the shoulder twice, it always worked.

you looked him in his golden eyes and your confusion was very obvious to him.

"not proper of me, hm?" he smiles at you, his lips tugging up back into that gentle smile he always praised you with.

"not really, no," you laugh.

he loved that laugh. the laugh that always warmed his heart whenever he had the time to do things like this with you.

the laugh that he gained from you.

"beautiful," he catches you off guard as you begin walking to the now boiling hot water to make his tea.

"you're one to talk," you smirk, "you're the most beautiful man i know, zhongli."

he raises his brows, "oh? you've never told me about anyone, dear," he teases.

"oh," you pause in your tracks, your hand on the warming pot of water which you didn't notice until it got hotter, "that's not what i meant, silly."

"you're burning your hand there, dear, be careful," he teases again, but this time it's more like a warning for you not to get hurt.

"you distract me too much, i'm almost done with it," you turn your head back around to face him, the pot now fully heated up, ready for you to prepare it for the tea you have been holding back on him ever since he started teasing you.

WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

assisting your boyfriend in his work was stressful, yes, but you couldn't lie all the time when it came to going down to the pankration ring.

"you're not doing it right," he comes up from behind you, guiding your hands to help you aim your bow at the upcoming red ball.

"pull your string back and once your arrow is there, aim it at the middle of the ball," he assists you, and your mind can't help but be caught onto his voice and the guidance of his hands holding yours.

"careful, you don't wanna hurt yourself," he teases when he notices you staring at his strong arms assisting you, "you zone out too much, love," he laughs.

"and you pay attention to everything too much, love," you tease, emphasizing the word 'love' to catch him off guard like he did to you.

right after that, he faces you towards him and raises a brow.

"what? cat caught your tongue?" you giggle and put your index finger to his lips, practically a way to tell him to be quiet.

he takes your finger off his lips and shakes his head 'no'.

"ugh," you roll your eyes, "you're lucky you're the most handsome man i know," you continue, to which he tilts his head at.

"do you still want help with this or not, [name]?" he smirks at you, noticing your instincts.

"i gave you a compliment, what do you mean?" you tease, to which he sighs at.

"other men?" he rolls his eyes back at you, to which you instantly notice his insecurities about your words.

well, yes this was your whole plan, to tease him like you always do to each other, but you didn't know he'd get jealous!

"wait, i'm sorry," you frown, "it was a joke," you continue, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"don't do that again or i'm not letting you see sigewinne for a week," he chuckles, hugging you back, to which you instantly pulled away and looked at him with wide eyes.

"you're joking right?"

SUGARMOUCHIE © do not copy / translate / repost my works on other platforms, thank u :3

#valentine’s works 🎀#genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli x you

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starsofang · 4 months ago

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CALL OF THE SEA / PART FOUR

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, kidnapping, angst, blood, 141 are still mean pirates ): kind of, very brief mentions of death masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

There were no ifs, ands, or buts about sleeping arrangements. Price, the Captain that he was, would have it his way, and his way was keeping you secured in the stuffiness of his own quarters.

It was uncomfortable, the way you shared the bed with him. He was a large man, much larger than you, and his bed only had so much space to fit the two of you. In the midst of the nights, you’d feel his leg brush against yours, or feel the soft rumble of his quiet snores from where he laid beside you.

It was far from ideal. As much as you hated it, it was an upgrade from your cell down in the brig. Price’s bed was softer, more plush, and it sank you in every time you slept on it. The situation was no better, but it wasn’t any worse, either.

The downside, though, was that you were just as much a prisoner as you were in the cell. Price made it known that you weren’t to leave his quarters under any circumstance.

They brought you meals in rotations. Sometimes Soap would show, cracking a horrible joke that left you rolling your eyes. Or sometimes it’d be Gaz, who hardly spared you a word of conversation, though you could see the faint glimpse of pity in his eye.

Then there was Ghost. A pure enigma, darkened by shadowy demons that were hidden beneath his mask. He never uttered a word to you, nor looked at you. He did his bidding by slapping down a bowl of poorly made stew and immediately making his exit before you could get a single word in.

Price wouldn’t bring you your meals, though you convinced yourself it was because he was avoiding you. You thought his original plan of having you sleep in his quarters would be for something diabolical and sinful, yet he made no effort to touch you nor get to know you. It was nice, knowing he wasn’t there to do things against your will, but it was also confusing, wondering what his real plan was for you.

It was as if sleeping with a wall, which you weren’t sure whether to be grateful or not. These men were far from people you wanted to be a part of, but the desire for a friend was beginning to outweigh your spite.

You were an outcast aboard this ship. Secluded from the world, and isolated from the only people you were surrounded by. It was a dreadfully lonely life to be living. Your only friend was the sea, and even that was something you were torn away from, locked away in the quarters with only a small window to offer a view of it.

The door of Price’s quarters barged open, disrupting you from your woe. None of them ever bothered to knock. They were savages, bred with no proper manners in the presence of a woman. But really, you weren’t a woman to them. You were labor. An inconvenience.

“Get up,” Ghost grumbled from his stand in the doorway, hand knuckling the rusty knob. “Goin’ shoppin’.”

“We’re on land?” you asked, standing from Price’s cot. Ghost grunted in response. “And I’m to… join you?”

“You need supplies, don’t you?” he gruffed, eyes narrowing in on you. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

The door abruptly slammed shut, leaving you alone in the quarters once again.

Land? They were allowing you to join them on their journey to land, to aid you in getting supplies necessary to work as a proper medic? It seemed surreal, yet bittersweet.

Gaining new supplies set your position on their crew in stone. They intended to keep you as theirs, and only trusted you enough to let you get off of the ship under their watch.

Yet, you’d be able to feel the grass between your toes once again. To feel the summer sun soaking in your skin, to hear the chatter of villagers fill your ears. You’d feel the liveliness of people apart from these heartless, savage pirates.

You’d be able to escape.

If you remained clever, you could leave the hands of Captain Price and create a new life far from their ship. This was your one and only opportunity to venture towards the life you always wanted for yourself.

You appeared as neutral as ever when you left the quarters to join the four men where they stood, clearly speaking amongst each other. You couldn’t show the rushing adrenaline coursing through you, not if you wanted to get away alive.

“Ach, there ye are, dove,” Soap huffed in annoyance, grabbing hold of your bicep to surge you towards him. You collided with his side, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Yer with me.”

“Stick with Soap,” Price ordered. His glare sent chills down your spine. “You are to get what you need under his watch. Try anythin’ funny and he won’t be so kind with you.”

“She’s fine, Cap, no need to worry. She won’t do anythin’ silly. Ain’t that right, dove?” Soap beamed, a touch of crazy leering down at you.

The plan in your head was beginning to feel too soon and too dangerous. You could only swallow nervously, giving a firm nod in return before they helped guide you off of the ship.

The town was lively around you. It was nothing like your home. Where you had grown with the quiet chirps of nature and gentle conversation, you were now greeted with an angry bustle of rushing townsfolk, brushing past you as if you were a ghost.

You felt out of touch with your surroundings. Others were dressed in fresh fabrics, altered to their frame. The women were pretty, hair unmatted and braided to frame their lovely faces while the men were covered from head to toe with the finest of coats.

Not all were as fortunate. There were a select few you caught glimpses of as you passed who were as dirty as you were, shoeless and hopeless. Begging for scraps of food or cheap coins, only to be spat on like the scum of the Earth.

You were no different. Next to Soap, you looked like a helpless, little mouse with dirty bags of fabric that fell loosely on your body, with your feet blackened from the lack of cover. It was utterly humiliating.

Soap kept a solid grip on your arm as he led you through the heaps of shoppers. He kept his eyes forward, scoping out any possible threat. You could see the hardwired focus geared in his brain, as if working on pure muscle memory.

“Pretty neat of a place, aye?” Soap asked, attempting small talk. He glanced over at you, wearing that boyish grin of his.

“It’s wonderful,” you replied, taking in the sights.

You meant it. Shops lined every corner of the dirt paths, windows displaying pretty dresses or tailored suits. Where you expected the town to look depressing, you found color, filling you with a warm dose of serenity.

This was a town you could grow to love. It was busy and loud, but the opportunity seeped out through every corner, calling your name. Your freedom rang out like a bell, offering you a place for your dreams to come true.

You had to escape if you truly wanted it. Your plan would have to unfold, even if it meant being patient.

“Yer bound to see a whole lot more towns better than this one, dove,” Soap boasted, grinning with pride. “Ye will grow to accept us one day.”

You stared up at Soap while the two of you walked. It was a shame, really, that he was the only one decently kind to you. Kind was far too generous of a word to describe any of these men, but it was the closest thing to what Soap was being towards you.

He was still a pirate, though.

“I am not so sure of that,” you confessed, unsure of why you did.

“Ach, ye will. The rest are secretly a bunch of softies,” he claimed, waving a dismissive hand. “We’re still human even if we’re pirates.”

“You’ve kidnapped me,” you stated.

“Mm. Yes.”

“You burned down my home,” you continued.

“Perhaps.”

“You killed my people,” you finished.

“You know nothin’ of what we do, dove. How about we keep shoppin’ for ye and stop worryin’ about the past?” Soap asked, not unkindly. He was surprisingly composed despite your accusations.

You stared at him for a moment longer before looking away. There was no point in arguing when the plan was to escape the moment you had the chance. Today would be the last day you’d ever have to converse with Soap and his men, if you played your cards right.

“You’re right,” you said quietly. “I apologize.”

“There ye go, dove.” Soap returned to smiling, giving a mocking pinch to your grimy cheek. “Now, what all do ye need?”

Soap made escape increasingly difficult. His hand remained secure around your arm for every shop you went in, keeping you by his side. It was as if he had a secret sense that let him know of your plans. Or perhaps he was following Price’s orders.

He stuck with you with every purchase. You gathered herbs, freshly made medicines, and a new book and quill to jot down notes in a journal. Soap allowed you the pleasure of collecting expensive items, unwavered by the prices.

He paid for them in gold, little round coins he’d slap on to the counter and leave behind without waiting for the shop tenant to gawk at such a rare sight of payment.

It wasn’t until you passed a clothing shop did he falter. His steps had stopped, eyes peering into the window. You stopped with him, dissecting his reaction.

“Sorry, dove. Makin’ a stop for myself,” he stated, tugging you into the shop. To your surprise, he let go of your arm, leaving you standing near the entrance. “Stay put. I’m trustin’ ye, so don’t make me regret it, aye?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you gave him a nod. He threw you a beaming smile before stalking off into the store, disappearing just out of sight. You remained firm in place, hands clasping in front of you.

The pit in your stomach twisted from the nerves that wracked you. This was your moment, your only chance of escape. If you didn’t take it now, you may never be lucky enough for another one.

As if fate was sealing itself, your eyes caught sight of a group of guards walking past the store, wooden rifles at the ready on their shoulders. They were speaking amongst themselves, oblivious to your inner turmoil from where you stood in the entrance of the shop.

A quick glance behind you showed that Soap was still occupied, unbeknownst to your plan. You could only see the top of his head, the messy mohawk sticking out like a sore thumb.

With the opportunity in front of you, you took it.

You moved slowly at first. Unsure, cautious. But once you made it out of the shop with Soap realizing, you amped your speed. Your dirty bare feet clambered clumsily along the dusty streets, digging into the little pebbles that littered them.

The dull sting of pain as you sprinted to the guards was disregarded. It was nothing compared to the ache of freedom you desired.

“Hello!” you shouted, garnering their attention. They turned, eyeing you with a judgmental glint at the state of you. “Please, I need help!”

“What can we do for you?” one of the guards asked, suspicious. His eyes were set on your feet, which were caked with months of filth. “A lass like you shouldn’t be out without a chaperone.”

“You don’t understand,” you gasped, catching your breath from the anxiety that rattled you like a drum. “I’ve been kidnapped by— by pirates and I’ve only just escaped. Please, I need your help, or they will take me back.”

“Pirates?” The guards perked up, glancing between one another as if sharing a secret you were unaware of. “How many pirates, lass?”

“Four,” you explained. “The Captain— his name is John Price. He is the one that took me from my village and I have been imprisoned on his ship for so long, I do not recall the days. Will you help me?”

You were frantic. Desperate. It showed in the way your voice shook, the way your frame shivered with nerves.

“It is not,” Guard Two said to his companion.

“It is,” Guard One said, the one who had spoken to you first. This time, they spoke to one another rather than to you, as if you were invisible. “There is only one Captain Price. It is 141.”

Guard Two looked over at you, face set firm. His eyes were piercing and cold, and it made you shrink down into yourself. They were not welcoming or kind like you expected a guard’s to be.

Guard One fumbled in the pocket of his britches before pulling out an aged paper. On it were the faces of the pirates with the exception of Ghost, covered by his signature mask. All of them were plastered on the page with a bounty over their heads, as well as a promise of exile for their arrest.

Execution. The pirates would be executed publicly if they were caught. The punishment was inked in bold letters beneath their pictures, and each letter was taunting you with the blood that would be spilled on your hands for turning them in.

An unsettling guilt began to gnaw at you. You were unsure of why. Captain Price and his crew had stolen you from your home and made you their medic. They had you sleeping in a cell for nights uncounted, eating slop out of a bowl like a dog.

Yet, to kill them was much too burdening on you. They were mean, heartless, and unworthy. Yet, death was unkind. You were not so shallow.

“Is this what they look like?” Guard One asked, holding the paper in front of you. It was undoubtedly them, down to every detail.

“Yes,” you confirmed, though not as confidently as before. There was now a weight in your tone, as if holding back. “Yes, that’s them. You— you will kill them once you find them?”

Guard Two laughed, though it was bone chilling. There wasn’t a hint of warmth in it, only distaste and rage. “Of course. They’re to be hanged for their crimes. They are savages.”

He took a step closer to you, leaning down to your level. His aura was threatening, and you could feel yourself cowering away. “You must tell us where they are at once. We will help you once we have captured them.”

You took a step back, deflating. Everything within you told you that you made a mistake. If you went through with exposing their whereabouts and having them captured, their deaths would be because of you. You would be a murderer.

“I—“ You swallowed, clenching your clammy hands into nervous fists. “I do not know where they’ve gone. I ran away as soon as I could.”

“Not a problem,” Guard One gruffed, taking hold of your arm, just as Soap had done before. Now, more than ever, a part of you wished it was Soap rather than the guard. “You will guide us to their ship.”

“Please let go of me,” you murmured brokenly, covering the guard’s hand with your own to pry his fingers off. They didn’t budge. “Please.”

Your pleas were shadowed by their greed. You recognized the look in their eyes, and it scared you to the bone.

Bloodthirst. They were hungry to capture the pirates, hungry to be the ones to guide them to their impending death. It was not about helping you. It was about the handsome reward they would receive for turning in the most wanted criminals of the sea.

You began to panic. The air in your lungs felt weak, and you could feel the world around you closing in.

This was not the outcome you wanted. You simply wanted your freedom, yet it would come with a cost that you weren’t sure you could afford.

You did the only thing you could think of doing. Your fist collided with the guard’s face with a nasty crunch, causing blood to spew from his nose like a spout. It speckled on your dirty cheeks, tainting them further.

The guard let out a shout, releasing your arm. When his companion attempted to make a grab for you, you bolted, legs carrying you back to the shop Soap had been left in.

Chaos ensued from behind you. You could hear the clamber of guards, racing after you, yelling profanities in the air. The townsfolk stopped to observe, women placing their hands over their mouths in bewilderment, men torn between watching or intervening.

It was a commotion you never planned on starting, and now, all eyes were on you.

Soap came into sight from in front of the store. He looked focused and angry, eyebrows pulled together, jaw set taut. When he locked in on you as well as the guards behind you, there was no relief. His eyes were as intense as the guards had been, if not more.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed pathetically, but he gave you no chance to pause your running.

Soap grabbed your hand in his, lugging you along the dirt paths. He swerved the streets, pulling your arm harder every time you fell behind. You struggled to keep up, spots of blood dotting the ground beneath you from the newly open wounds from pebbles that sliced open the soles of your feet.

You were pulled into a narrow alleyway with Soap, out of sight from the guards. Soap’s large hand shoved your head, urging you to crouch down behind a row of barrels that crowded the alley.

Your heart was nearly lurching out of your chest from your hiding space. Pounding footsteps raced past the alley, a cloud of dust filling the air and burning your nose. Voices could be heard shouting nearby, but not close enough for you to make out what they were saying.

Soap and you stayed put, his hand muffling your mouth, body smothering yours. He held his breath, ears listening in for the guards.

After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps grew farther away, voices fading into the wind.

“I trusted ye to stay put, dove,” Soap whispered, voice full of anger and betrayal. “I’ve been nice to ye. Why couldn’t ye just stay like I told ye?”

You whimpered into his hand, low and depressing. You felt defeated. Your fate was undetermined more than ever before, and you feared what the pirates would truly do to you now that you went against their word.

“C’mon,” he huffed, letting go of you and standing from behind the barrels. He grabbed hold of your arm, hauling you up and keeping you in his grip.

Soap crept the two of you through the town, slipping through every crack in the buildings to remain unseen. If people saw you, they remained silent, fearful of the pirate amidst their town.

The closer the two of you got to the ship, the more your heart sunk to your stomach. You were wracked with terror, horrified of the punishment you’d endure. The only thing you could do is let Soap string you along like a puppy on a leash.

“We need to go,” Soap barked at Price. The other men had long returned from their shopping, only awaiting your arrival with Soap. “Now.”

Gaz fluttered away without question, preparing to undock the ship and leave no trail in the town behind. Price and Ghost, on the other hand, were far more concerned.

“What the hell happened?” Ghost asked, voice gruff and dark, eyes narrowed on you.

“Dove tried rattin’ us out,” Soap hissed, throwing a glare your way. You shrunk in his hold, avoiding his eyes and bowing your head low. “Guards are lookin’ high and low. They know we’re here.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost grunted, leaving the three of you to aid Gaz in prepping the ship for sail. He walked with a looming shadow over him, black and scary, oozing out the mist of pure acrimony.

Price stood tall and terrifying, arms crossed over his chest, the lines of his face firm and tight. He stared at you with a guise of disappointment and resentment, and if looks could kill, you would surely be one of their many victims.

The Captain took a step towards you, leaning down to your height. His hand grabbed hold of your face, fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. His eyes were glaring, stabbing you with millions of daggers.

He shifted your head from side to side, inspecting the specks of blood that dotted your face. He was silent, making everything much more unnerving, and when he let go of you, he spared you not another glance.

“Take her to the cell,” Price ordered Soap. “We’ll deal with it later.”

Soap nodded grimly, tugging your arm aggressively so he could guide you to the brig doors. The sight of them made you sick, and you fought in his hold, which did nothing but make you look like a fool.

“Stop squirmin’,” he hissed, irritated. Seeing him without his signature smile made your chest fill with sickening guilt, and it twisted your insides in a painful knot.

The cell welcomed you when you stepped down familiar stairs. It was a slap in the face, seeing it once again, and you wanted nothing more than to take back everything you’d done and apologize to Price until he let you back into the comfort of his quarters.

But there was no going back. The deed was done. This was your price for freedom, and before it was handed to you, it had been snatched right out of your hands.

Soap shoved you into the cell with enough force to ensure you went inside, but gentle enough to make sure you didn’t topple over. Even now, when you’d betrayed his trust, he didn’t aim to hurt you. The pill was suffocating to swallow.

The cell shutting behind you rattled through your ears like a deafening shriek. The lock clicked, and Soap made no effort to move, not yet. Instead, he stood there, eyes boring into you through the bars of your cage.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. So, you stood shamefully, staring at the floor beneath your aching feet.

Something clattered on the floor, and when you shifted your gaze to find it, what stared back at you was a pair of shoes. New, unworn, and pretty. For you.

Looking up at Soap, his expression was unreadable. He no longer looked at you. He seemed just ashamed as you did. It was as if all the anger he had before had diminished, and he now looked like a hurt boy, betrayed and ridiculed.

“I hope they fit,” he said quietly. While you stared at him, he was now the one avoiding looking at you. “Didn’t know what ye liked.”

Soap turned on his heel, trudging up the stairs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He made no effort to look back at you, to study your stunned expression. Instead, what greeted you was his back as it filtered through the brig doors, shutting behind him with a loud slam.

You looked back at the shoes, careful when you picked them up. They were bland in taste, yet the prettiest thing you’d been gifted in your life.

Soap trusted you to stay while he went to surprise you with a new pair of shoes, and you had only gone behind his back out of fear of his pirate crew that had taken you from your home.

You felt no better than a pirate.

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genderqueerdykes · 4 months ago

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14 year old transgender girl Pauly Likens was unjustly robbed of her life due to trans panic between the dates of June 22nd and July 3rd, 2024. say her name.

i have seen only one or two posts about this, but none of them include her name and it sickens me. Her name is Pauly Likens, a 14 year old transgender girl from Sharon, Pennsylvania who met up with a 29 year old man whom she met on Grindr who was brutally murdered and her body was dismembered because she was a trans girl. she went missing on June 22nd, and her dismembered body was found on July 3rd, 2024. her body was DISMEMBERED and thrown into a river. she was not only murdered but BRUTALLY murdered. she was 14 years old. 14. she couldn't even legally drive yet in the united states. she just barely graduated elementary school.

her mother is fighting for her case to be processed and acknowledged as a hate crime. i am disgusted to find out that my home state of Pennsylvania only considers racial discrimination as real discrimination that can be persecuted by law. gender identities and sexual orientations are not considered at all. lawyers and government officials are also trying to deny that it was a hate crime, because her murderer was a self admitted gay man. i don't care what type of queer you are: there is never an excuse to lay hands on a transgender person just because you don't like how they identify.

this is utterly sickening. to say this wasn't a hate crime is living in denial. i don't care if her murderer was gay. he's a murderer who had a clearly charged reason for doing this. he stole a life from a young transgender girl for no reason other than she identified in a way he didn't like. he's not dangerous because he's gay, nor is he exempt from being transphobic. his sexuality had nothing to do with this. not only was this man a dangerous transphobe, but a predator. a 29 year old man willingly met up with a 14 year old child. this man is dangerous for reasons that have nothing to do with his sexuality. he's a transphobic child predator. he deserves no sympathy or to get off scott free just because he's gay. he willingly met up with Pauly. she didn't force him to do anything. she was a child, and he is an adult.

please say her name. while talking about the dangers of Grindr and how minors should not use it, please include her name. yes Grindr is an extremely dangerous platform for trans women, men, and trans people in general, but that shouldn't be the focus of your conversation about her. don't use her death as a platform to discuss how fucked up grindr is without acknowledging who she was as a person. don't just make her another statistic on a page. she was a real person, a child, who was robbed of her life, and robbed from her community. she is not just another number in a long list of trans panic murders. her life meant something. say her name. fight like hell for Pennsylvania to acknowledge that her death WAS a hate crime. their archaic outdated laws need updating.

her family has a GoFundMe to give her a proper burial, please consider donating or spreading the word about it:

here is a news article that genders her correctly where you can read more about what happened:

rest in power, Pauly Likens, we miss you. you are loved. we will fight like hell for you and your family. remember her.

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ellecdc · 5 months ago

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the case of the missing pickles

poly!marauders x slytherin seer!reader who can't stop Seeing them [2.9k words]

amalgamation of various prompts:

prompt 1 from 🔮🐍 anon: I was wondering if you could do a part two of Sight's Set where one of her visions comes true? maybe the vision is of her on a date with them to Hogsmeade, but it turns out differently where she goes to Hogsmeade alone and they find her there and join her??? prompt 2 from anonymous: Can I please request marauders with a reader who are just in the beginning of their relationship and yet they know r so well like she doesn't have to even ask and she's all confused and flustered prompt 3 from 🕊️ anon: Remus calling feisty slytherin reader 'dove' being her kryptonite

The sun was warm on your skin as the castle gates permeated your view. You were trying to hide your amused smile at the boys’ antics, though you’re sure you were unsuccessful when a gentle laugh escaped your lips.

James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.

“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.”

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.

“Don’t make any plans for next Hogsmeade weekend; we’ll definitely be doing this again!” James called; Remus encouraging him forward by a hand on his waist as Sirius walked away from you backwards to continue looking you up and down.

“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.

You woke up with a start, shooting upright in your bed as you sucked in a much needed breath. Goosebumps erupted all over your body as the feeling of being submerged in cold water began to dissipate and your nervous system realised it wasn’t dying.

After nearly two decades of living with ‘the gift’ of Sight, one would think your body would have a better response to it.

Alas, it still acted like you were moments away from death.

Perhaps it wasn’t too far off, what with all your Sights of the Marauders overtaking your every waking (and sleeping) moment; perhaps you were dying, perhaps that would be preferable.

After taking a warm shower to bring some much needed heat back to your bones and wash away the residual nerves that your vision had caused, you decided to put it out of your mind; you would never agree to waste one of your precious Hogsmeade trips with the Marauders anyways, so there really was no point stewing over it.

You eventually made your way into the Slytherin common room to find Regulus and Barty already situated with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Good morning, Treasure!” Barty cheered as he stood abruptly from his spot on the sofa with Regulus. “Heading to Hogsmeade today?”

“You know that I am, Barty.” You responded with a smirk. “I told you I needed to go to Tomes and Scrolls; the book I ordered should be in.”

“Great!” Barty clapped his hands together. “I need to stop at Dogweed & Deathcap!”

“Absolutely not.”

Barty paused in his excited tirade to look at you incredulously. “What do you mean, absolutely not!?”

“I mean you are absolutely not coming with me, Barty.”

“Why!?”

“Barty.” You started as if you were speaking to a rather troublesome toddler. “Last time I let you come with me you had us kicked out of Zonko’s and then spent two and half hours violently debating with the Dogweed & Deathcap shopkeep about the proper brewing times for veritaserum.”

Barty stared at you bewilderedly as you held his gaze.

“You’re really not going to let me come with you?” He asked after a painfully long silence.

“No.”

Barty stomped his foot once and let out a petulant breath. “Then you’re not allowed to be my best woman at our wedding!”

Regulus looked up from the newspaper he’d been engrossed with in favour of this ridiculous conversation to look at the two of you in bemusement.

“Wha-? We’re not getting married?” Regulus stated as a question, effectively removing Barty’s furious glare from you only to have it directed at himself.

“It’s just one sodding disappointment after another!” He screeched before turning and storming off towards the boys’ dormitory.

You and Regulus stared at the empty spot that was once Barty Crouch Junior before Regulus broke the silence by standing with a tired sigh.

“Well I guess I know what you’ll be up to today.” You teased gently earning you a groan from the youngest Black.

“If you happen to be by Honeydukes…”

“Yeah, yeah.” You cut him off, accepting the galleons he pulled from his pocket as he held them out to you. “I’ll pick him up some sugared butterfly wings.”

“Thanks, I’ll need all the help I can get.” He grumbled as he made his way after his cantankerous boyfriend.

Even the dreary weather couldn’t bring your mood down as you pocketed your galleons and accepted Barty’s bag of sugared butterfly wings from the Honeydukes shopkeep.

You loved Hogsmeade, and you loved visiting with your friends, but sometimes there was nothing like enjoying a peaceful trip on your own.

Feeling quite pleased at having procured your special order from Tomes & Scrolls and successfully running Regulus’ errands, you pulled your hood up to protect yourself from the elements outside before pushing open the shop door only to collide with a heavy force on the other side.

“Hullo, L/N!” James called as he quickly righted you.

This cannot be happening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled as you stepped out of James’ hold, pretending like you didn’t notice the slight fall in his expression at the loss of contact.

“Nope, I think you’ll find I’m really quite Sirius.” Sirius said with a wink.

“Ew-” You started, turning to look at the longhaired boy in disgust. “That was terrible. That’s a terrible joke.”

“Listen, when you get cursed with a name that’s also an adjective, you get to make all the terrible jokes you’d like.” He responded plainly.

“You get used to it.” Remus sighed; offering you a sympathetic crooked smile.

“I should think I won’t, thank you very much.” You said as you turned to walk away, only to feel a gentle hand grasp your elbow.

“Whoa whoa, where’re you off too in such a hurry?” James asked teasingly.

“The castle?” You responded quickly, immediately berating yourself for deigning to explain yourself to the likes of the Marauders.

“Before lunch?” Remus asked then. “It’s not a trip to Hogsmeade without a stop at the Three Broomsticks.”

“I’m not hungry.” You proclaimed with finality only for your stomach to traitorously contradict you by groaning rather loudly at the thought of one of your beloved tuna melts from the restaurant.

“Liar.” Sirius smirked smugly. “To the Three Broomsticks!”

Before you had a chance to protest, Remus and Sirius were walking ahead as James threw his arm over your shoulders and guided you after them.

“Get your hands off of me, Potter.” You spat.

“Sorry sweetheart, I wish I could, but then I’d have no way of ensuring that you wouldn’t just take off.” He apologised, not sounding very apologetic at all.

You thought of your Sight from this morning but decided you were relatively safe; they had called it a date - this was decidedly a hostage situation. Besides, the weather had been really rather lovely in your Sight; today’s weather was quite the opposite.

It was fine.

This wasn’t a date.

You were fine.

Just fine.

Except you had no sooner entered the Three Broomsticks before Sirius was pulling out a chair for you as James rather forcefully sat you in it; Remus quickly sitting and blocking your means of escape on your other side.

“I’ll go order!” James called quickly before nearly skipping towards the bar to do just that.

Sirius sat across from you looking all sorts of chuffed at his current predicament, smiling knowingly between Remus and yourself. “So,” he started. “Any more visions of your wonderful future with us?”

“Bite me.” You spat immediately, hoping to all the gods that no one noticed the heat emanating from your cheeks at the question.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smirked.

“Be nice to her.” Remus chided softly. “She already doesn’t want to be here.”

That’s right, you thought petulantly before quickly scolding yourself for agreeing with a Marauder.

Entirely too soon in your opinion did James return, happily sitting beside Sirius and looking around the table. “So! What’d I miss?”

“Y/N wants me to bite her.” Sirius responded quickly. “Okay!” James agreed readily. “Now?”

“Oh my gods I’m going to avada myself.” You muttered as you pressed your fingers into your temples.

“Oh come now, not before lunch.” Remus chuckled, rubbing conciliatory circles onto your back.

You couldn’t believe how tactile these boys seemed to be; they almost always had their hands on each other in some way. Sirius currently had a hand on James’ thigh who had his arm thrown casually over the other boy’s shoulder. You were almost certain that James had extended his legs under the table and was currently playing some form of footsie with Remus, who, in turn, had his hand on your back.

And then you thought of the ease that James had thrown his arm over your own shoulder on your way here as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Sirius asked, pressing a finger to the divot that was growing between your brows before you hastily swatted his hand away from you.

“Just wondering what I ever did in another life to deserve this.”

“Must’ve been an angel in another life to deserve us.” He responded haughtily.

“She’s an angel in this life too.” James added; beaming smile making you feel as though you needed to squint your eyes lest you look directly at it.

The barkeep saved you from having to think of a response by placing food in front of each of you.

Your beloved tuna melt that you had been dreaming of earlier sat on a plate before you, confusing you as to how James seemed to know your order.

But perhaps he hadn’t; perhaps the barkeep recognised you and knew what you usually ordered.

You pulled open the sandwich and were hit by another curiosity.

“There’s no pickles?” You asked aloud, causing the three boys to look at you in bemusement.

“Did you want pickles?” James asked you slowly; his fork hovering over his plate as he delayed the first bite of his own meal on your account.

“Well…no, but it usually comes with pickles.” You explained dumbly.

“Yes but you always pick them off, so I asked for no pickles.” He explained simply before finally taking his long awaited bite.

“How did you know that?” You demanded rather harshly then.

“Know what? Your order?” Sirius asked on James’ behalf.

“Yes. And the pickles.”

“Because we pay attention?” Remus offered then; you could see him scrutinising you from the corner of your eye.

“Do you want me to go ask for pickles so that you can pick them off?” James teased then, an ill-suppressed amused grin threatening to overtake his face.

“No, I want you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” Sirius asked with a smirk. “Knowing things about you?”

“Yes, that. Stop that.” You ordered.

“You’d have to obliviate me.” James taunted, leaning on his elbow and resting his chin on his fist as he considered you.

“Better make sure to get the incantation right, gorgeous.” Sirius added. “Otherwise you’ll be responsible for his care when you ultimately put him into a vegetative state.”

You huffed petulantly before opting to take a bite from your sandwich in favour of continuing with your current conversation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask-” Remus started with an amused grin on his face. “If you don’t like pickles, why don’t you just ask for no pickles?”

You let out a conceding sigh as you swallowed your bite. “I don’t want to be a bother…it’s just as easy to pick them off myself.”

You felt shame prickle at the back of your neck when your answer was met with silence before Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh my Godric,” He exclaimed excitedly. “You are a big softy.”

Against your better judgement you kicked your foot out at the long haired Marauder, horrified when James yelped before reaching under the table to rub his hand over his shin.

“Fucking hells, sorry Potter.” You grumbled as you tried to curl in on yourself, watching as Remus cooed at the bespectacled boy and Sirius laughed at him.

“Oh, no worries angel.” James offered you tightly, voice coloured with pain as he forced a smile at you. “Merlin, you've got quite the leg on you.”

“Fuck yeah she does.” Sirius agreed salaciously, earning him a fiery glare from you as you considered re-aiming your foot.

“Easy there, dove. Play nice, yeah?” Remus murmured then, causing a shiver to rush down your spine as you turned to look at him with your mouth parted slightly.

You were absolutely horrified at the very visible reaction you had to the scarred boy’s endearment - and you knew it was a very visible reaction because Remus had a very visible reaction to it.

“You’re alright, dove.” He murmured again, this time with a knowing smirk before turning back to his own sandwich and pretending like he hadn’t just completely rocked your world with one simple word.

You looked over to see Sirius pick off of James’ plate as you waited for James to use his fork as a weapon for the egregious crime of stealing food, only to see James quickly load up a fork-full and hold it out for Sirius to try.

“Fuck, I should have ordered that instead.” Sirius admitted as he swallowed the bite.

“Wanna switch?” James offered quickly, already lifting his plate to give Sirius room to slide his over should he want.

“I’m not taking your meal, bubs.” Sirius responded with a smile as a faint blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

“You’re not taking, I’m offering.” James insisted, moving Sirius’ plate in front of him before placing his own plate in front of Sirius when it became obvious the other boy wasn’t going to help.

“Thank you.” Sirius admitted rather shyly for the notoriously boisterous boy before he pecked a kiss to James’ cheek.

You looked over to Remus in bemusement only to see him looking lovingly over at his boyfriends.

“Did you wanna switch, too?” Remus asked then, alerting you to the fact that he was quite aware that you had been staring at him.

“Absolutely not; you stay away from my tuna melt.” You spat before taking another bite.

You found yourself quite glad that the boys simply laughed before moving on to other topics of conversation, watching curiously as they talked and joked the afternoon away.

By the time the four of you were making your way back towards the castle the sky had cleared, leaving the spring air fresh and fragrant in the warm sun.

You felt a gentle tug and turned to watch Remus pull your jacket out of your arms before folding it over his own arm to carry it for you.

Shit.

“Moons! What do muggles call the game ‘leaping toadstools’?” Sirius called suddenly from where he and James had run ahead.

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he smiled at them. “Leapfrog.” He called back with an audible eyeroll you were sure was mostly for show.

“Rem, I bet five galleons that me and Pads can leapfrog the whole way back to the castle.” James shouted.

“I’m not betting.”

James let out a horrified scoff. “Why not!?”

“Because I know that you likely can even though you probably shouldn’t.” He responded simply.

“Don’t rain on our parade, Moony.” Sirius said dismissively, waving Remus off like he was the definition of anti-fun.

And to your absolute horror, you found yourself rather entertained as you watched them line up to play leapfrog; the only interruption of the game on your walk being to pet the odd cat, point at a patch of honking daffodils, and to run back and steal kisses from Remus (glaring at them when they threatened to do the same with you).

James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.

“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.”

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.

“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.

And though you would sooner die than admit this to anyone, after this rather lovely afternoon and with the amount of time the Marauders have spent leapfrogging through your mind, you didn’t think you could miss them too much, even if you wanted to.

Find the next update here

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thinkinonsense · 2 months ago

Text

TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

logan howlett x mutant!reader

cw: fluff, sweet logan

a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.

you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.

maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.

for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.

"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."

your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."

"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.

"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"

"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.

"hm... have you tried talking to him?"

"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."

"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."

"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."

"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."

little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.

it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.

a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.

it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.

on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.

"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."

you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.

"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.

"no need to apologize." he assures.

one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.

"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.

*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.

logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.

"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.

little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.

"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.

*wanna kiss your pretty face.

"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.

"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"

*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?

"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."

*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.

"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.

it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.

"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.

*wanna be your girl, logan.

"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"

*can you keep my secret?

he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.

it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.

logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.

"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.

"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.

he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.

"wanna sit?" he asks you.

this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.

"sure."

"did you have fun last night?"

he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.

"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."

you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.

once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.

in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.

"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"

*what's wrong, sweetheart?

*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?

"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.

*fuck it.

the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.

"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.

"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.

*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?

logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."

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priniya · 7 months ago

Text

˗ˏ` EMOTIONS! 🍵 ´ˎ˗

pairing. theodore nott x reader

summary. theo never handled his emotions right, and when his girlfriend shows up in a wrong moment, things escalate and theodore doesn’t know how to fix it.

THEO HAS BEEN A TICKING BOMB LATELY and you knew that. it’s been bothering you, but every time you tried talking some senses into him, he brushed it all off, saying something too stupid and reckless for you to hear, so the topic was dropped sooner than it was brought up.

it was one of those times again, when a recurring thought was planted into your brain that you didn’t know your boyfriend like you thought you would. theodore hasn’t been himself lately, which made you worry tons. he’s been smoking much more and getting into fights more often as well as getting into trouble with the teachers, losing the points for your house, which… well, you didn’t care that much about it. what you cared for was theo’s wellbeing.

since it’s been a christmas break, you had gone home to spend time with your family, which meant your contant with theo was limited to a few letters that he was doing somewhat fine, yet you’ve been smart enough to know that spending christmas with his father and grandfather could never make him feel fine, not even a little bit. it was the breaking point in you that you’ve decided it’s the end of brushing you off.

“riddle, berkshire – out.” you barged into the dorm, glaring at your boyfriend’s dormmates, causing the first one to groan in annoyance.

“jesus, can’t be in your own room anymore.” mattheo rolled his eyes at you, yet he knew it was coming, so he dragged his ass up, patting theo’s back. “good luck with that one, nott.” he muttered before leaving the room with lorenzo, who just sent you a sympathetic smile.

theo, on the other hand, just glanced at you for a second, knitting his eyebrows together. “what do you want, l/n?” he asked, his nose still burried in between pages of a book you gave him for christmas.

“oh, last name basis, al–fucking–right.” you grumbled, grabbing the book away from his hands, your body trembling with fury. you hadn’t had a proper conversation in over two weeks, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be a decent man towards you. “what’s going on with you, nott?”

“get off my dick, y/n, really.” he rolled his eyes, expression matching the one his roommate had a few moments earlier. “i don’t have fucking time for this shit.” theo added, clearly agitated.

“well, you want it — you have it, i’m not getting on your dick anytime soon.” your voice was thick with emotion as the mention of celibacy earning you a look. “i know something’s going on. i know that, because i’m your girlfriend and i care about you. just trust–” you started, but the sentence wasn’t meant to be finished, because nott cut you off.

“then don’t. merlin, i don’t need a fucking babysitter, hoovering over my ass all the time. you’re not my bloody therapist, l/n. i don’t fucking need you to stick your nose into my business 24/7.” theodore stood up, his nose almost brushing yours before you took a step back, startled at the sudden outburst. “and sex? don’t amuse me, for merlin’s sake. i could leave the dorm right now and find someone to bone if i wanted to.” his tone was harsh, while his words were like knives thrown at you as a reward for being a caring girlfriend.

your boyfriend looked at his knuckles, his gaze focusing on the ring as he begun to take it off, making your pupils widen. “go. give it to someone who’s gonna be crazy enough to put up with your obsession about emotions. i’m not doing that anymore.” he muttered, pushing the ring into your palm.

“fine.” was the only thing that came to your mind after his words. your body continued to tremble and at this point, you couldn’t have been sure if it was your annoyance or broken heart that he just broke up with you. “just keep your promise and stay away from me. maybe join the death eaters too, for all i care, you’ll fit in perfectly.” with that, you left his dorm, slamming the door behind you as you fought with tears flowing down your cheeks.

“troubles in paradise?” mattheo grinned at you playfully, not noticing your tears-stained face as you were storming through the common room to the exit of the room.

“go fuck yourself, riddle.”

it wasn’t even five minutes later, when mattheo entered his shared dorm, his expression utterly confused as his mind was doing its best to connect the dots. “what’s with that gal of yours?” he asked theo, plopping down onto his bed, lightning up a cigarette right after.

“she’s not my gal anymore.” nott mumbled in response, almost untouched by the entire thing that just happened and that took his best friend by surprise.

“what do you mean she’s not your gal anymore?” he asked, his frown deepening. “lad, don’t tell me she broke up with you, you love this girl to death.” riddle added, scanning his friend’s face for any sign of uneasiness or a clue to understand all of it.

“i broke up with her.” theo replied with a shrug.

“merlin, man, why?” mattheo asked another question, this time being left without an answer as nott shut the curtains of his bed, putting on a silence spell.

IGNORING THEODORE ALL WEEK HAS BEEN EASY as you weren’t in the same year as him. you’ve been grovelling inside about the break-up, but from what your mother had always told you, when you were younger, you remembered that all the teenage boys were shitty and you couldn’t — by any means — let him know how much hurt you were. ignoring him was easy, all because, in your eyes, he didn’t even take any effort to show you remorse for what happened, from what you’ve known, he didn’t even look at you once.

the worst part of loving theodore nott was not being able to brush off all the concerns and worries that lived rent free in your mind, whenever you’ve noticed him walking through the hallways. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to care about him at all, so that was what you were planning on doing. kept your head high and your feet steady on the ground.

what you didn’t know, was that it wasn’t pride that made him keep his eyes away from you, but guilt. from the moment he woke up the day following your argument, his organism was flooded with guilt and shame to the point, where he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror.

he fucked everything up just like his father always told him that he would. he broke the promise he’d made to himself that he wouldn’t drive you away, wouldn’t hurt you like his father hurt his mom, yet he did. you were the only person in his world that made him feel like a normal human being, one, who could love and be loved, but he had to ruin it all, because his pride wouldn’t let him to open up to you.

it’s been already a week since the biggest mistake of his life, as he called it, and theo’s entire body hurt. he was popping pills with blaise like candies, because sobriety and consciousness made everything worse. he couldn’t stop thinking about you — about your expression, when he broke things off with you, the hurt in your eyes and the way you were holding yourself after that.

people, not close enough to you, might’ve been fooled by the facade you’ve built around you, though not theo. he’d known you for years prior to your relationship, he’d seen you both happy and miserable and now? now, you were beyond miserable. you might’ve kept your head high with the biggest smile on your face, but he’s known. he always would — whether you wanted him to or not.

quidditch practices were the worst, all because you were always there, yet never watching him. it wasn’t even up to you to be there and theo was certain of it. you were there, so your best friend wouldn’t have to sit through an entire practice alone, while she watched lorenzo with starstruck expression all the fucking time.

“lad, you have to apologise to her, sort it out.” enzo sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “aoife’s worried about her. ‘m not really surprised, though, she started smoking weed on daily-basis again. aoif’s saying she can’t remember, when she saw her sober for the last time, but it’s better than bawling her eyes out over some asshole, aoif’s words, not mine.” having a friend, who was also somehow close to you and your best friend was a blessing in disguise. lorenzo kept him updated, not leaving out all the insults aoife lynch threw at him for breaking her best friend’s heart.

a loud sigh left theo’s lips as he leaned over the table, his forehead falling onto the wooden surface as he let out a groan. “i don’t even know what to do, enzo.”

“my suggestion? get your shit together.” mattheo chimed in, a playful grin on his face. “i mean it, theo. the gal of yours keeps showing up to my spot and i can’t deal with her tears anymore. get your shit together and fix it.”

“the problem is, matt, i don’t know how.”

the opportunity, although being totally… stupid, occurred at the end of another week during a game with hufflepuffs. theo’s entered another stage of grief and has been going around the school angry at everything. so, when the game came, he was playing rougher than usually, because he needed an outlet to the built-up anger.

of course, you’ve noticed. how couldn’t you? you’ve been keeping an eye on him for the entire two weeks. despite your promise to aoife, you couldn’t let it go. no matter who he was, your boyfriend, a friend, a stranger or an enemy, you couldn’t stop worrying about him and doing your best to look out for him. so… when he was forcefully pushed off his broom by diggory, you were running down the stairs before he even hit the ground. you needed to be beside him or it would kill you.

he was unconcious for almost two more days, making it a sixteen days without hearing his voice and you were going crazy, spending every single second, occupying the tabletop placed next to his bed. his hands in between yours as you kept it close to you. did he deeply pained you with his words? yes. would you let him be alone in the hospital wing? of course not.

“y/n/n.” he whispered suddenly, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.” nott let out and you weren’t sure if it was some kind of sleep talking or your delusions leading you on. “i’m so sorry, baby.” he repeated his words with a term of endearment, squeezing your hand weakly.

“theodore…” your words hitched in your throat as you moved the hair aside from his forehead. “don’t think about it now.” you whispered in a coy manner. “it doesn’t matter.”

“i can’t.” he coughed out. “i can’t stop thinking about it. about you. i’ve acted like a dick, but i didn’t mean it. you’re my world, baby, i’m so, so sorry. you were right all this time, i build up my emotions inside of me and let it get the best of me in the worst moment. i’m so sorry i hurt you, i swear i hate myself for—” he continued his rambling, slowly opening his eyes to have a look at you.

“hey, teddy, please, don’t think about it now.” you pleaded, still holding his hand. your thumb caressing his palm. “just rest, okay? please. we’ll talk about once you’re well-rested and out of here.” your voice was gentle.

he shifted in his hospital bed, hissing as his ribcage hurt immensely. “no, cara, please.” he muttered, bringing his lips to your palm. “listen, i can’t get over what i told you. i’m so fucking sorry, baby.” he whispered.

“teddy…” you started, but he cut you off.

“no. i’m sorry i said all those things to you, you didn’t deserve all the shit i gave you.” he let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “you need to hit me. for all the pain and suffering. oh god, and the tears. you should just kill me at this point.” theo muttered, and honestly? he did deserve the beating for what he’s done, but the three days of unconsciousness due being knocked off the broom, you could let it go. it could be his fate share of beating.

“just shut up, will you?” you sighed, planting a tender kiss on his lips. “we’re fine.”

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