#forgive my boy spencer hes an asshole but he gets better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyperraduo22 · 6 months

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my dps roman empires

cuz i keep seeing those videos with my love mine all mine on my feed with consistently ugly-sob-inducing stories and roman empires so now i have this long list i wanna share

+ may include some little facts here and there for anyone new in the fandom

• anderperry’s entire relationship and dynamic

literally no explanation needed on why it’s the top of the list and the first thing i wrote down

the whole hourglass and icarus x the sun dynamics makes me sob every time without fail

someone rewrite the script so they have a happy ending please

also me: wym they already do?? they got married and went to new york??????

• charlie and neil :(((

• thinking about charlie’s experience and dealing with grief post-expulsion

• todd’s entire character

bro makes my quiet x anxious kid heart go brrr

like just thinking about the little implications of his behavior and what’s said about his brother in the script makes me wanna cry and scream and throw a tantrum

he really represents the epitome of all quiet shy kids out there and i really appreciate it

• dead poet’s society but from cameron’s perspective

i understand y’all wanting to punch and yell at him and show no forgiveness but i also think you should give a bit of sympathy for this kid

he doesn’t know any better just like charlie or any of the other poets

damn this movie does a great job of showing reality and the fact that there’s no real enemies

• dead poet’s society but from pitts’s perspective 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

like i’d pay to see this honestly

• pitts’s screen time :((((

my underrated boy :(((((

• pitts and cameron’s dynamic

i KNOW we see these two talking in the background and seeing him make cameron laugh and smile the most compared to everyone else

like??? i wanna see more?????

cameron being outwardly comfortable around someone finally???

• the fact that all the movie's events ensued as they’re all high schoolers

like idk if there’s a canonical age for any of them but whether they’re juniors or seniors the trauma is still the same

• the thoughts of the kids who stood up on their desks at the end of the movie

how are they dealing with keating being away now? how do they view life in general?? did they really appreciate keatings class???? would they join the dps if they had the chance???????

• hopkins’s portrayal

its kind of a 50/50 since bro barely has screen time, yet i see his character oftentimes being portrayed as the class asshole

i think it’s clear that him and his friends commit tomfoolery and are overall jerks but to think that he’s the more sensible, level-headed guy makes a lot of sense to me—kinda similar to charlie in a way

like he knows limits and when to not push them even if he doesn’t come off that way. all bro does is chill in class and stare off into the windows daydreaming (as shown in the whole ripping out the poetry intro scene). bro doesn’t wanna be there. he’s just chilling and honestly same💀

• spencer’s actual treatment in the movie

ik we love this man, and our headcanons (or at least what i’ve seen and my own for the most part) say that people treat him well but low key everyone be on his shit

like it brings up the question of whether or not this is considered bullying cause any scene i see he’s either blatantly shoved around or even the guys around him purposely steal his medicine and pass it around so he can’t have it (including stick participating in this)-

like i think there’s some limits to being a jerk and idk how spencer really feels throughout the movie cuz he’s a background character :////

• HANDSOME ASS BACKGROUND CHARACTERS AND THEIR SCREEN TIMES = UNFAIR! CRIMINAL !!!!!

• the fact that ginny’s character just gets completely cutout. like she has a few lines to begin with and then the movie comes out and she ends up being a non-speaking extra in the play like i’m- what happened???

• tina and gloria / girl characters portrayed in dps in general

let me explain cuz i love them but also feel bad for their characters

like low key they’re just used as experiments for the cave (implied by charlie in a deleted scene that wasn’t recovered although i think this part is in the original script as well if i remember correctly)

although he brings them back a second time in a deleted scene where they’re all dancing around outside of the cave on the night of the play only for him to make out with one of them in another deleted scene that wasn’t recovered… (( this was revealed in an old interview on someone working behind the scenes btw ))

so like i kinda feel bad for them. like y’all just there for show but i wish you had more lines and other purposes besides possibly not passing a bechdel test ://////

^ lowkey this same concept is kinda seen with chris’s character too. like all she’s there for is a romantic interest for knox. like cmon now she’s one of the main female characters and THIS is what she gets. i wanna know more about my girl chris!!!!

and i kind of understand why it’s set up this way since y’know it’s an all male boarding school in the 1950s—how do you fit female characters in and how are they viewed? it’s not the greatest setup of all time

• ANDERPERRY DELETED SCENE ON THE DOCK NOT MAKING IT INTO THE FILM LIKE OUT OF ALL DELETED SCENES THAT ONE IS THE REALLY IMPORTANT ONE !!!!!!!!!!!!!

• the deleted scene of the poets carrying neil’s coffin 🚶‍♂️

like goodbye. doors closed. tears shed.

kinda glad it’s not in the movie cuz i would’ve sobbed uncontrollably even more than neil’s death

• todd’s poem

another deleted scene that really rearranges my internal organs

the fact that him reading this poem was supposed to be in tandem/include shots with neil’s death-

why do the writers want us to cry rivers?????

BUT ALSO ITS FUNNY ASF IF YALL WATCH THIS DELETED SCENE WHEN TODD IS TELLING THEM WHAT TO REPEAT BETWEEN VERSES, ONE OF THE POETS GOES “what??🤨”

I’M SORRY TODD IK YOURE TRYING BUT THAT LITTLE AIRHEADED ASS “what?” IS SO FUNNY TO ME

• the fact that in the very first version of the script, keating was supposed to have cancer

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS UNTIL LAST MINUTE

LIKE Y’ALL ADMITTED THAT YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SCENE OF KEATING DYING IN A HOSPITAL AND WERE PONDERING ON WHETHER HIS CHARACTER SHOULD HAVE A FATAL ILLNESS FOR THREE DAYS ?!?!?

thank god y’all made the right decision and rewrote the script to take that out

#dps tumblr #dead poets society #dps fandom #dead poets fandom #dps #dps boys #todd anderson #charlie dalton #john keating #mr keating #neil perry #anderperry #chris noel #gerard pitts #pitts dps #cameron dps

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winterscaptain · 4 years

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infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown.

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm.

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket.

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape.

Especially then.

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place.

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile.

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee.

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question.

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron.

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.”

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best.

“Nothing to live for.” Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted.

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to.

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass.

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction.

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.”

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today.

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too.

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes.

That’s enough, for now.

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating.

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown.

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.”

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp.

You look at him, your frown deepening.

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder.

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet.

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call.

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle.

Long-legged asshole. Slow down.

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen.

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up.

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer.

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps.

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason.

You miss her.

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them.

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye.

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

You grit your teeth. I don’t know.

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case.

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself.

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him.

Come back to me.

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break.

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront.

“We’re too late.”

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave.

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you.

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth.

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything -

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.”

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.”

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.”

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia.

Oh, Aaron.

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.”

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.”

Goddamn it, Aaron.

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.”

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now.

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit.

Fine.

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly.

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.”

“They don’t need the extra manpower.”

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck.

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him.

You always do.

+++

“Let’s go.”

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you.

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging.

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves.

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped.

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.”

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well.

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.”

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup.

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!”

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun?

“Let him go.”

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight.

“We have to trust him.”

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.”

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.”

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait.

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof.

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic.

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.”

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.”

He has everything to lose.

You have everything to lose.

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid.

You hope that he can hear you somehow.

Too late.

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy.

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear.

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot.

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you.

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again.

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.”

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.”

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home.

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment.

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter.

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up.

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks.

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face.

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.”

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far.

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie.

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain.

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high.

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye.

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub.

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team.

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear.

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you.

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care.

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable.

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you.

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it.

I love him.

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife.

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you.

There’s nothing you don’t love about him.

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.”

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still.

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He nods, his jaw flexing.

“Don’t do it again.”

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment.

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone.

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.”

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say.

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head.

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens.

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.”

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.”

A sigh. “I know.”

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch.

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm.

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.”

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?”

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says.

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.”

You have me. You’re not alone.

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it.

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink.

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.”

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #aaron hotchner fanfiction #a joyful future #shut up tali #a joyful future fanfic

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

I told the stars about you

Summary: Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it.

Tags: first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Companion Piece/Prequel to my heart talks about nothing but you

The cafe is warm and vibrant when they walk in together a little after seven in the evening. Derek had taken Spencer’s hand as soon as they left his apartment, and the warmth of his palm had shot up his arm as soon as they’d made contact. Spencer knows it’s simply his physical attraction to the other man talking, but it felt like something magical, like fate telling him his fingers were always destined to be intertwined with Derek’s.

“Are you sure you’re okay with coming here instead of a restaurant?” Derek asks, not for the first time this evening, as they weave between the tables, choosing one reasonably close to the gig stage where a band is setting up.

“Of course,” Spencer assures him again, taking his seat. “The chairs are far more comfortable here than they would be in a restaurant, so that’s one bonus.”

Derek laughs fondly at that. They’re not quite comfortable with one another yet, the inherent awkwardness of first dates crackling in the air around them as they sneak heated glances over at one another, but Spencer’s just happy to have Derek in his company. He’s spent almost two years pining for the older man, he could hardly believe it when he’d finally been asked out on a date.

“What would you like, pretty boy? I’ll go up to the counter and order.” Derek smiles over at him and his focused attention feels like it’s branding itself on Spencer’s soul.

“Uh— a pesto panini and a mocha?”

“Not a black coffee with six sugars and caramel syrup?” Derek quirks a brow. “We’re branching out. I like it.”

Spencer can’t help the light blush that settles on his cheekbones. Derek’s had that effect on him since the first day they met, and he’s not about to start feeling embarrassed by his body’s response to him now, so he just looks down for a moment before resuming eye contact. “Shut up,” he murmurs teasingly. “Go and order the food.”

Ever since Derek had picked him up, his stomach has been swimming, head dizzy with the heady anticipation of a date with the man he’s been crushing on since he joined the bureau, and he takes the small reprieve of Derek’s absence to breathe deeply. He can do this, he promises himself. He deserves love, he deserves Derek, and he’s going to have a lovely evening, damn his anxieties.

When Derek returns a few moments later with his order, he doesn’t waste a minute tucking in. If they’re not going out for dinner, he’s at least going to enjoy all the snacks he can milk out of this date.

“What prompted the mocha adventure?” Derek asks curiously as he picks at his own panini, his filled with bacon and mozzarella.

“I like mochas,” he laughs, holding his hands up defensively. “I just usually go for a more caffeine heavy option on days when I have to solve time sensitive murder investigations, often on very little sleep.”

“That makes sense.”

“Anyway, what made you take me to this cafe?”

They chat idly and comfortably for over an hour to the backdrop of the happy hum of the other patrons and the cheerful music of the cover band, and it’s nice to have such uninhibited time with one another. Time outside of work is usually shared with others on the team, and one-on-one conversation is sort of a foreign concept in a group of seven people all familiar with one another, and all craving catch-ups and conversation with each and every member. Spencer can feel his insides slowly melting into a nice puddle of mush as Derek talks about his current renovation projects and his dream house he’ll build one day, before asking him about his latest documentaries and books, allowing him to ramble to his heart's content.

The feeling of validation that hums through his chest as Derek listens and asks questions and talks about all these intimate facts about himself Spencer was none the wiser too despite already being so familiar with him is euphoric. God, he’s going to fall in love with Derek so quickly. That’s if he’s not there already.

The band takes a quick pause after singing Elvis Presley’s Jailhouse Rock before starting the next song, playing the opening chords to a melody Spencer recognises as Frank Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight. It’s always been one of his favourite songs. He’s not really a musical person, but old classics had been a keen interest of his mother’s and they always bring back good memories. He used to play them at college to remind himself of her.

“Let’s dance,” Derek says suddenly, as though he’s read Spencer’s mind. A slow grin spreads across his lips, and it would have distracted him if he wasn’t so caught-off guard by his insistence: it’s a late night cafe, not a club, there’s not even a dance floor.

“What?”

“No, come on,” Derek continues enthusiastically. “I want to dance to Frank Sinatra with you, Dr Spencer Reid, right here, right now.”

“Derek, everyone will stare at us,” Spencer giggles, but he can already feel himself being persuaded.

“As they should.” Derek waggles his eyebrows as he stands up, pulling gently on Spencer’s hands to try and get him to stand up.

It works, and before the first verse is even over, Derek has him on his feet, dancing in a terribly embarrassing, uncoordinated fashion, but Spencer doesn’t care. The feeling of Derek’s big hands dwarfing Spencer’s small waist is addictive, and he moves his body in a way that feels right, no matter how ridiculous he might look. Derek twirls him around and moves them around the small space they have by their table with an adoring expression on his face, one that goes straight to Spencer’s heart, warming him from the inside out.

They sway together as they sing along quietly to one another, ignoring their horrible voices and inability to carry a melody, and it hits Spencer that this isn’t really first date behaviour. He feels like he’s been with Derek for years, like this one dance has transcended all the awkward adjustment of a new relationship, propelling them years into the future. The collapse into fits of laughter as the song comes to an end, the ridiculousness of the emotions swelling in their hearts and dancing in a coffee shop to a mediocre cover band, but they’re completely wrapped up in one another.

“Alright,” the lead singer of the band cheers as the last chord is played and held, “credits to our dance troupe over there. Y’all have something real special.”

They snap out of their trance and Spencer looks sheepishly at the clapping patrons of the cafe, most of them wearing fond smiles on their faces. Derek bows comically, sending Spencer back into a peal of laughter, but they calm down quickly and retake their seats as the band transitions into their final song.

“That’s the most fun I think I’ve ever had,” Spencer grins, feeling like he’s on a high as he takes in the man across from him, trying to wrap his head around what just happened and how Derek feels about him. His emotions are written across his expressive face and it winds Spencer to see someone look at him like that.

“Baby, just you wait for date number two.” Derek grins cheekily as he reaches across the table for Spencer’s hand. “Let’s get going. I want to buy you an ice cream, pretty boy.”

“I like strawberry best,” Spencer says, a little shy but feeling safe and protected under Derek’s warm gaze, his arm snaking around his waist.

“And I like you enough to forgive you for such a crime,” Derek chuckles, shaking his head as he guides him to the door of the cafe. “Having any other flavour than mint chocolate chip as your favourite is simply unacceptable.”

“Well, you accept it when it comes to me.” Spencer’s preening under the adoration from his date, and he can’t even be bothered to hide how pleased he feels. He’d wondered for so long how it must feel to be Derek Morgan’s partner, to be subject to his flirting, his intense gaze, his love, and it feels better than he ever could have imagined.

“That’s because you’re special, baby,” Derek whispers in his ear, and Spencer shivers. It has nothing to do with the cool November breeze.

Derek is true to his word and buys him a strawberry ice cream cone, not saying another word about it as he makes his way through his, a scoop of mint choc chip in a bowl. He’d insisted at the counter that cones are disgusting and nobody should be subjected to them, and Spencer had only laughed fondly and kissed him on the cheek. “Spencer, I’m so damn happy you went out with me this evening,” Derek says once they’ve finished their treats, voice earnest and eyes sincere. Spencer’s sat next to him in a booth in the parlour, tucked up against Derek’s side with his head on his shoulder.

He lifts it to look him in the eye, trying to convey the same amount of sincerity right back at him. “I’ve wanted this date for a long time. The first time I realised it was during the case in Alaska, do you remember? When we had to share rooms? You said ‘I’m not sleeping with Reid’ and my first thought was no, but I wish you were. My second thought was that that was kind of an asshole thing to say.” He nudges Derek in the ribs with his elbow to convey his jest, giggling quietly as Derek grins back.

“That was an asshole thing to say,” he concedes. “To be honest, the reason I didn’t want to share a room with you is that I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. In a small bedroom, possibly sharing a bed, cosied up for a night… I was going to break and confess my feelings, so I deflected.”

“You realised before me,” Spencer muses, he hadn’t expected that. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“We are indeed, pretty boy,” Derek sighs, tugging Spencer closer with the hand glued to his waist, “and I never want to leave.”

Of course, they have to eventually, leaving the ice cream parlour and heading back towards their apartments. There’s a little rain in the air, and the wind is crisp and cold, so they huddle close together as they walk the streets, silently agreeing not to get a cab despite the nasty weather just to spend a little more time together. But their walk comes to an end, and Derek drops Spencer off at his apartment first, insisting on walking him all the way to his front door.

“Spencer Reid, you have no idea how much I enjoyed this date,” he murmurs, standing close enough to raise Spencer’s heart rate noticeably, his breath hitching as he takes in the intense expression on Derek’s face.

“I bet I enjoyed it more,” he breathes, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying really, because all he’s focusing on is how close Derek’s lips are to his, and before he can talk himself out of it, he closes the distance and kisses him. His stomach flip flops immediately at the sensation, the feeling of one of Derek’s hands wrapping around his waist and spanning his lower back while the other comes to his jawline, holding him securely as he kisses back.

“That was,” Derek whispers as they pull apart just barely, “and I am not exaggerating, the best kiss of my life.”

Spencer believes him, his deep brown eyes promising him nothing but the truth, and his heart pounds in his chest, pulse beating loudly in his ears as he tries to catch his breath. “Me too.” It’s all he can think of to say, and it’s completely true, as well — not that there’s much competition. “Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for date number two.”

“Baby, I’ll go for breakfast in the morning with you if that’s what you want,” Derek says, and everything about him screams that he’d give Spencer the world.

“That’s what I want,” he replies quickly. He doesn’t want the world, he just wants Derek. And breakfast. He wants Derek eating breakfast with him in a downtown diner tomorrow morning, and he wants as many breathtaking kisses as he’s willing to give.

“Then I will pick you up at 8.30.” He leans in to press one last gentle kiss to Spencer’s lips, lingering a second too long before reluctantly pulling away. “See you in the morning, my prettiest boy.”

taglist: @strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @drinkingcroissants

#my writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #moreid #moreid fic #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan #spencer reid

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

Dean Winchester x reader

Requested by anon/ Summary: You fake your death to protect the Winchesters and meet again years later

A/N: I’m a little iffy with this one. Not sure if I like it. I’m sorry if it sucks. I guess I’m a little rusty after not writing for a few days :( sorry for any mistakes

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

You knew your abusive father was out of jail and would be heading your way pretty soon and he wouldn’t stop until he found you and killed you. You were the reason he spent years in jail and he was looking for revenge. Nothing standing in his way. If he knew you were with the Winchester brothers, he’d kill them too. You knew you needed to protect them, just as they had done numerous times for you on hunts. It was time for you to pay up and protect them. Even if it means never seeing them again. You loved them, especially Dean and would never forgive yourself if anything happened to them because of you. So, you started plotting your own death. You’d made a deal with Bobby and begged him to help you. You would be “Going on a hunt on your own.” However, it would “end badly” resulting in your death. Bobby would be the first to hear about it and would inform the boys of your death. Then, you would slip into the darkness until it was safe to come out.

“Bobby, what the hell is going on? Why did we need to come over here?” Dean asks, walking into the home, Sam following behind.

Bobby motions to the couch, his voice sad, “you boys should sit down.”

Sam looks at Dean and back at Bobby before sitting down.

Dean follows suit, “What’s wrong Bobby? You act like someone has died.” Dean chuckles, jokingly. However, he immediately stops when he sees the look on Bobby’s face. He knows you’d gone on a hunt by yourself. It was an easy one, he knew that. However, he didn’t want you to go but you’d reassured him you’d done this hunt a million times and would be able to take care of yourself. He let you go without another word.

“Bobby?” Sam asks.

Bobby slowly sits across from the boys, “I’m afraid it’s y/n.”

Dean shoots up from his seat, “you’re lying.” He shakes his head, “I just spoke with her. She was fine.”

“I’m sorry Dean.” Bobby whispers, “It ended up being a trap.. She’s gone Dean.”

Dean shakes his head again, “No… no. This can’t be happening..”

Sam stands, his eyes filling with tears. You’d become a sister to him. He pulled his brother into a hug and Dean let go, sobs wracking his body as his whole world fell apart, the love of his life, gone. Never to be seen again, “She can’t be gone… no…”

~ 5 Years Later ~

The two Winchesters walked through the crowded street heading toward a lead on a hunt. However, someone caught Dean’s eye crossing the street. It couldn’t be, his mind was only playing tricks. Dean shook his head, closing his eyes, before opening them. The woman had turned and that’s when he saw you. It had been 5 years but he would be able to point you out in any crowd. Dean didn’t even bother speaking to Sam or looking as he crossed the street. A car driving down the road, slammed on their breaks, blaring their horn. Dean held his hand out in an apology and continued toward you, “Y/n!”

“Dean, what the hell?!” Sam called out, confused.

“Move! Excuse me!” Dean called out, moving through the crowd. However, when he managed to get across the street, you’d vanished in the crowd. He frantically looked around but didn’t see you again.

“Dean, what the hell man? You almost got yourself killed!” Sam said, catching up to him.

Dean looked around again and then looked at Sam, “I saw her man. Like clear as day.” He points to the street, “She crossed the street and walked this way. It was her Sammy, I’d know her anywhere.”

Sam looks around as well, before looking at his brother, sadness in his eyes, “Dean.. she’s been gone 5 years. She’s dead. It must have just been your mind playing tricks.” Sam puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Let’s go..”

Dean finally gives in. Sam’s right; she’s gone.

You’d heard him call out your name and quickly hid. You watched from behind a building at him and Sam. He’d looked the same he did 5 years ago, maybe even hotter. He’d buffed out and grew out his facial hair. He looked good with facial hair. It took everything you had not to run out to him. It was better this way though. If you came back now, he’d probably never forgive you. Your father had been dead 3 years and after you killed him, you went back to Kansas to explain everything to Dean, but he’d already moved on. Another woman on his arm. So, you left him be. He’d moved on and you were too late.

Dean stares up at the hotel ceiling, his arm under his head.

“What’s on your mind?” Sam asks, sitting on his bed.

“Sammy, I swear it was her..” Sam sighs, “Dean, I know you miss her, but it’s been 5 years. She’s gone, you know that. There’s no way it was her. It was your mind playing tricks.”

Dean sits up, “Sam, I know what I saw.”

Sam holds his hands up in defense, “Okay, believe what you want. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Dean and Sam sat at the small table at the Bar and Grille. They needed a beer after the day they’d had. Dean sipped his beer, glancing around the bar. That’s when he notices a man walking up to a woman at the bar. He whispers something in her ear and before the man can touch her, she’s pinned him against the bar, an arm pinned behind his back and his body bent over the bar. His eyes are wide as he watches the scene unfold. It was like a flash back of when he first met you.

“Hey there, how about we get out of here?” He whispered in your ear. He’d watched you all night, throwing back beers and whisky and knew he needed to talk to you. His hand went to your lower back and that’s when you turned on him, pinning his arm behind his back, “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.” He liked a woman who knew how to protect herself.

He glances over his shoulder at you, flashing a smile, “my apologies. Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you?”

You’d slowly let him go and he’d turned to face you, “Dean Winchester.”

You blushed when you saw him. You were hooked then and there, “I drink whisky. Think you can handle that?”

Dean nods, “Oh baby, I can handle anything you throw at me.”

He knew it was you. He slowly stands from his table and crosses the bar to get to you. You’d scared the poor guy off and was now alone. He clears his throat as he gets to you. He tries to stay calm, finding his voice, “Let me buy you a drink to make up for him being an asshole?”

You froze on the barstool, that voice sending a shiver down your spine. You slowly turned to face him, standing from the stool, your eyes already filling with tears, “Dean Winchester…” You shook your head and smiled at him, “I drink whisky… you think you can handle that?”

His bottom lip quivers as he sees that it’s really you. He steps closer to you, chuckling, his hands cupping your cheeks, and leaning in close, “Oh baby, I can handle anything you throw at me.” He whispers against your lips before smashing his lips against yours.

All my works tag list: @blossomreed

Supernatural tag list: @fanficscuziranout , @taylordrunkonwhiskey , @losers-club6

*if your name is crossed out then tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you :(

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twbfics · 7 years

Text

Bar Sinister (pt 1)

Summary: You make a deal with Negan to save your friend Daryl’s life. But when you can’t give Negan the child he wants, you ask Daryl to help make it happen.

Pairings: Daryl x Reader, some Negan x Reader

Chapter: 1/?

Word Count: 2,020

Warnings: Language, threats of violence

It was stupid of Daryl to return to Alexandria. You knew it. Rick knew it. Everyone knew it. But fuck if he wasn’t a stubborn asshole. Even Rick couldn’t talk him round. You knew there’d been no chance of him staying at The Kingdom in the middle of their endless LARP game but you thought he’d at least have the sense to go to the Hilltop.

But he hadn’t. He’d come back to the place he felt he never fit in. He’d come home, to the house you shared with him. It was quieter now, with Eugene and Carol gone, Maggie at the Hilltop and Glenn… well, you were glad to have Daryl back. He didn’t talk about what happened with Negan – of course he didn’t – but you could see that whatever it was had taken a massive toll on him. He’d stayed strong and fought Negan relentlessly but there was an exhaustion to him. A loneliness.

He should’ve gone to the Hilltop. The thing he needed most right now was Maggie’s forgiveness.

But he was here.

And the familiar sound of Lucille banging against the gates told you that Negan was here too.

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath, running towards the main gate to see Daryl running in the opposite direction. “Hide good,” was the only thing you had time to say as Rick tried to stall a few more seconds for him. But the sun wasn’t on your side. Eric’s shadow formed a silhouette against the gate and taking any longer to open it would have seemed suspicious.

You slowed to a halt by Rick’s side, looking over your shoulder to see if Daryl had made it somewhere safe. You couldn’t see him anymore, so you had to hope so. “They can’t take him back,” you whispered, as Michonne, Carl and Rosita joined you. Negan’s presence was like a beacon, calling everyone to line up before him. Tara and the others weren’t far behind.

“They won’t,” Rick promised, as Negan marched into Alexandria with the Saviours in tow. Simon was with him and in your limited experience, seeing both of them together meant one thing. People were going to die.

“Now we have a BIG problem!” Negan bellowed, swinging Lucille before resting her on his shoulder.

“What problem?” Rick asked, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“That day when I was kind enough to bring your son back after he killed three of my men and then one of your people tried to shoot me? Well it just so happens that while I was here showing mercy on your people Rick, Daryl managed to find his way out of his cage.”

The tension was suffocating, or perhaps that was just because you scarcely dared to breathe. You wouldn’t realise until later that your body was so tense it was painful. That your stiffened spine and wide, unblinking eyes would’ve given the game away if everyone hadn’t been so focused on the exchange between Negan and Rick. Negan walked right up to him, so their faces were only an inch apart and stared him down. Every silent second was a beat closer to death.

“Where is he Rick?”

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, but Negan just continued to stare. No – glare. He wasn’t fucking around today. “We thought you had him. We didn’t know any different until just now.”

“You know if I find him here,” Negan started, his words slow so that everyone hung on them. So that the gravity of the situation would sink in. His last words were a whisper: “I’m gonna have to kill him.”

Rick stared back, taking his own time. Measuring his words; keeping his voice steady. “He’s not here.”

“Then you won’t mind if we take a look around,” Negan said with a tight smile but there was no humour in his eyes. He was furious. He barked at Simon to take the others and search everywhere. They swarmed Alexandria like a plague while your group stood silently, not even daring to glance at each other in case Negan noticed. In these moments, you were scared he’d read your mind.

Negan was staring through Rick like he was trying to do just that. Rick’s gaze never faltered, for better or worse. He’d changed since the shitstorm that happened the last time Negan was here, when Olivia and Spencer were murdered. You couldn’t tell if Rick’s steely gaze made him look more guilty or less, but soon it didn’t matter.

“WE’VE GOT HIM!”

It was a few seconds more before Negan dragged his eyes away from Rick’s. He had one of those looks like, I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed. But also I AM fucking angry and you’re ALL gonna pay.

You could hear Daryl thrashing and yelling before you even turned the corner, running alongside the rest of the group. Daryl hit someone but three more guys were on him in seconds and fought him until he was on his knees. He’d been hiding in the infirmary, where Denise used to work.

“DO IT THEN YA PIECE OF SHIT!” Daryl screamed at Negan.

“Do not make me angrier or I’ll have to take it out on one of these people and make you watch it,” he grinned – but it wasn’t Negan’s usual cocky smile. It was like he was on fire inside.

“We didn’t—” Rick started, only to fall silent when Negan pointed Lucille at him.

“No.”

You were shaking. Seeing Negan’s version of justice wasn’t something you ever wanted to witness again. But with Daryl? He was one of the few people left in this world still worth a damn. Negan had taken away so many people, but he couldn’t take Daryl.

You wouldn’t let him.

“Negan, wait,” you cut in, moving between Daryl and the rest of the group so you were face to face with Negan.

“What did I just say?” he said. What did he just say? Something about the next person who talks… Fuck.

“Don’t—” Rick started, but you cut him off.

“You don’t need to do this. We can make a deal.”

“We already had a deal and as your people have proven time and time again, you just can’t listen!”

“I’ll be your wife,” you said, trying and failing to stop your voice from trembling. Daryl had mentioned he had a bunch of wives. Maybe he’d want one more.

It was your turn to be stared down now and you had no idea how Rick looked so calm while it happened to him. For a few harrowing seconds before he spoke, you felt possessed by him. And then he breathed out a laugh. “You’re pretty. You’ve got a pretty face. But next to my wives you’d look like the ugly duckling went for a swim and ended up in some poor asshole’s toilet!” he said loudly, and some of his cronies laughed along with him. You scowled as he walked up to you, putting his face close to yours. “So tell me why I’d want to spend my valuable time screwing you when I could be screwing any one of the wives I already have?”

“Because I’ll give you a child,” you answered, and this time your voice didn’t tremble. You were pissed and this wasn’t about Daryl being in the firing line anymore. Negan had turned it around onto you. This was about winning his shitty little games.

He chewed his lip, intrigued at the way you’d raised the stakes. But he didn’t speak, so you continued. “You want all your beautiful wives getting fat and covered in stretch marks? And that’s just before the baby comes. It’ll never feel the same afterwards. Their tits will leak all over their pretty clothes and they won’t have time for you anymore. That what you want?”

“What makes you think I even want a child?”

“Because you’re still listening. Because you need someone to take over everything you’ve built,” you answered, but you knew those reasons weren’t good enough even as they were leaving your mouth. So you scrambled together something that once spoken, you were never able to take back. “Because with my baby in your arms, Rick will be powerless. He won’t do anything to put my child at risk. Alexandria will provide for you as long as it’s standing. And Daryl? If I’m pregnant, I’m gonna need help. We’ve had two women in this group get pregnant and both of them died from it. I’ll need a doctor. If I’m pregnant, he’ll do anything you ask.”

“Is that right?” he grinned, eyes full of glee. Rick didn’t dare speak again but you heard his sigh. The angry one reserved for when someone had fucked up and given him a whole new set of problems. It was a sigh usually spent on Eugene or Gabriel – never on you. Until now. You’d tied everyone’s hands in the space of a few seconds and given Negan the rope.

“Just don’t kill anyone. Don’t hurt Daryl.”

“See that I cannot do. Dwight, get over here!” Negan called, finally taking a step back from you and owning the space around him again. You risked a glance at Daryl and he looked livid. “Funny story, something similar happened to Dwighty-Boy here, didn’t it Dwight? See, Dwight thought he could run away with his wife and my fiancé but then he saw the light and came back to me. But he still broke the rules and to stop me killing him, his wife became my wife. You see his face? Dwight, show her your face.”

Dwight tucked his lanky blonde hair behind his ear, staring ahead with his back too straight. He looked dead inside. Is this what you were condemning Daryl to? Even if it was, it couldn’t be worse than being dead.

Right?

“See Dwight still needed to learn his lesson and RULES ARE RULES,” he bellowed, patting the side of Dwight’s head. Dwight’s eyes found yours but there was nothing there. He was just cold. “So he got the iron like everyone else. And now everything’s gone back to normal. Ain’t that right Dwighty?”

“That’s right,” he answered in a hollow voice. Negan couldn’t be enjoying this any more if he tried.

“So I can spare Daryl’s life and every one of the pitiful lives here but Daryl cannot go unpunished. And as for the matter of Rick hiding a fugitive—”

“He didn’t know,” you quickly interrupted. The memory of Rick almost hacking off Carl’s arm was burned into your mind. You didn’t need to see an amputation today. “He was telling the truth. I snuck Daryl in on my own.”

He stared through you and just when you thought he was going to call you out on your bullshit he grinned. “Daryl! You got a girlfriend you didn’t tell me about? And after we became such good friends; that’s just rude.” He walked up to Daryl and crouched down so their faces were level. In a quiet voice (but everyone else was so silent that ‘quiet’ still seemed like he was shouting) he said, “But I can see why you’d keep this one to yourself since she clearly has a fetish for assholes,” he was about to stand up but then turned back to Daryl with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Wait, was I just being literal? Well... I guess I’ll have to wait ‘til our wedding night to find out.”

Daryl yanked against the men holding him and started to yell something but before he could even get a word out Negan punched him to the ground. Then he took the same hand, without even unclenching his fist, and stroked your cheek.

“So does my new fiancé have a name?”

You thought about Abraham. You thought about the few horrifying seconds he’d left Glenn in agony before he finished it. And then you thought about Daryl. You couldn’t stand to watch the same thing happen to him.

So as much as you hated yourself for it, you stared him straight in the eye when you answered.

“Negan.”

#daryl x reader #negan x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic #bar sinister #gif by thewalkingbucky #aka me #banner by colinhiddlestan

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falloutatthediscofics · 7 years

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I hate you. Wait, what?

Description: Your best friend, Brendon, is throwing a party. One thing’s wrong though, you can’t stand Ryan Ross. Will that change after a hasty hook-up?

Requested by: Anon

*Disclaimer: I do not own the gif used above, if it is yours please notify me and I’ll give you credit!

Tonight’s the night of Brendon’s party. You’re still unsure if you want to go, seeing as Ryan will most definitely be there.

Your phone rings twice before you realize it’s Bren, and you answer. “Hey y/n. You’re still coming tonight right?”

“I don’t know, it’s not exactly my scene.” You lie. He can tell you’re lying as soon as you speak because he knows your love of a good party.

“Is this because of Ryan? I know you guys don’t get along, but could you please tough it out for me?” You could practically hear the puppy dog face through the speaker.

“Fine. I’ll go, but only because I love you too much.” You reply. He squeals in excitement; “Great! I’ll see you tonight then!”

While standing in your closet, you attempt to find an outfit for the night. You spot a black body con dress that comes just above mid-thigh. While perusing your shoe collection you see your favorite red high heels.

You check your appearance once more before heading out of your apartment, and beginning the short drive to Brendon’s house.

When you arrive the bass is already shaking the windows and multiple people scattered across the lawn. You step into the house and are immediately engulfed in smoke and the stench of cheap booze enter your senses.

Someone hands you a drink as you pass through the sweaty bodies grinding in the living room. You make it to the back yard where you spot Brendon, Spencer, Jon, and Ryan.

As you approach the group of boys, you can already feel your skin crawl with hatred as you and Ryan make eye contact. His arrogance and douche bag attitude seeping through his gaze. You avert your attention to Brendon and tap him on the shoulder.

“You’re here! I figured you’d bail on me.” He says, dropping his gaze to the floor.

You roll your eyes, “ You know better, stop pouting.”

“I was kidding.” He grins widely, embracing you tightly. “Good to see you too babe.” You wink jokingly.

“I’m going to get us some of the good stuff, you want anything y/n?” Jon asks. “Sure, bring me what ever you think I��ll like.” You laugh.

“We’ll help, Spence!” Brendon and Jon speak simultaneously. You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing now that they intend to leave you and Ryan to ‘fix’ things, as they have attempted many times before. You love your friends, but you really wish they would just leave this situation alone. He’s the same self-centered, egotistic asshole that he’s always been.

‘There’s absolutely no way in hell this is actually happening.’ You think to yourself.

“So, are you just going to stand there and pout all night or are we going to avoid an awkward silence and find the assholes who left us here?” He asks cockily.

“I am not pouting! I just don’t particularly enjoy having a conversation with people who think too highly of themselves or only think of themselves.” You shrug, sending him a sarcastic smile.

“Look sweetheart, this night could be good or bad. It’s up to you. You want to act like a bitch and ruin the party that my friends have been so excited about? Fine, but I doubt they’ll ever forgive you.” He smirks.

“Okay first, never call me ‘sweetheart’ again or I’ll castrate you in front of all these people. Second, they’re not just your friends. They’re mine too and if you think for one second that I’ll take shit from you just because you’re in a band with them, you’re more ridiculous than I thought.” You huff, finishing your speech. He stands there, shocked that ‘the stuck up brat’ -as he has called you many times- finally snapped.

Before he can reply, the others are back with joints and expensive vodka. “Let’s go sit behind my pool deck and chill.” Brendon suggests, leading the way.

You’ve only been there an hour and now you are taking shots of vodka and hitting off of the joint being passed around the circle as you play ‘would you rather’.

Spencer turns to you with a mischievous smirk, “y/n, would you rather have sex with Ryan, or fuck a cactus?”

“I’d take the cactus any day.” You smirk as the group laughs.

“You’d only take the cactus because you know I’d never sleep with you.” Ryan states, rolling his eyes. His remark earned ‘oohs’ around your small circle.

“Alright you two, lets retract the claws for tonight.” Jon remarks jokingly, bumping your shoulder, making you smile.

For the next few hours, Ryan kept staring at you and when you would catch him, he would look away.

You’re in the kitchen now and he’s doing it again. You decide to confront him. “Okay, what the hell is your problem?” You whisper-yell, placing a hand on your hip.

“What? Nothing. Mind your own damn business.” He snaps back.

“Well, you made it my business by staring at me; so spit it out,” you demand.

“Let’s take this upstairs.” He sighs, grabbing you by the wrist and towing you towards the stairs.

He leads you to the end of the hallway toward the guest room. He pulls you inside and locks the door. He presses his back to the door and puts his head in his hands.

You hear him whisper a slight ‘what am I doing’. You feel awkward and out of place as you witness your sworn enemy have a mental break.

You reach you arm out to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

He looks up at you and faintly says “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He’s drunk and high and completely out of his mind. Why is he saying these things? “Look, Ryan, you’re pretty wasted right now so why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you some water or something to help you sober up.”

“Only if you lie with me.” He cheekily replies.

‘Is he hitting on me?’ Just as the thought crosses your mind, your gaze wonders to the bed where he is getting undressed.

“Are you coming or not?” He smirks, leaning forward and pulling you into his arms. You relax into his touch, as the two of you slowly descend to the mattress. He pulls you closer while resting his face in your hair. You turn to face him.

“What are you doing?” You question.

“What I should have done ages ago.” He whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

One thing leads to another and suddenly its nine a.m. There’s a slight pounding in your head. It takes you a short moment to realize that you’re not clothed, and certainly not in your own bed.

Your head turns slowly to see who is laying next to you. You gasp as you realize it’s Ryan and the memories from the night before come crashing in like waves. You slept with your worst enemy. The guy you said you would never even hold a door for. The self-absorbed ass hat you knew as Ryan Ross.

He stirs and blinks to wake himself up more. He looks at your naked form and then smirks. “So, you took me instead of the cactus last night huh?”

You groaned and replied, “honestly, could you not do that? As I recall, it was you that initiated this.”

“I’m kidding. Take a joke.” He laughed, rolling his eyes and playing with your hair some.

“So, where does this leave us?” You question, looking into his brown eyes.

“Friends?” He suggests.

“Maybe.” You shrug as you get out of the warm bed and begin to gather your clothing from the night before.

Hope y’all enjoyed it!

xoxo ~Rose

#ryan ross #ryan x reader #ryan ross x reader #ryan ross imagine #rose

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stargleeksil-blog · 7 years

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Criminal Minds s01e17 A Real Rain review

Episode 17 – A Real Rain

Okay, so this is set in Manhattan, the episode this time doesn’t give anything away except for the fact that the victims may flood the team so much it seems like rain. I don’t know. I’m excited. Let’s watch.

Oh god, I love views of Manhattan, especially in night with all the sparkly lights. Times Square is so pretty.

And here is our unsub, so unstable it’s frightening. Ugh.

Why the fuck is he taping aluminum foil on his windows? Oh god, he’s beyond freaky.

Oh, and here’s rain, maybe that’s the reference from the title?

You know, I’ve never taken a cab at night in Manhattan, but the drivers never talked to me. Maybe they only do it with guys? Cuz they’re afraid women would sue them for harassment or something?

But I mean, if I had a driver chat me up, I would try and be conversational just so he’d get me to the right place. That’s how I do it here in Israel.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Oh crap! He just shot that cabbie in his face! Damn!

Oh, in his chest? But … guess it was pieced together manipulatively.

Two more victims? Oh god.

Zodiac killer? Sounds weird. Maybe he killed once for every month? Ew.

Would it kill you to make Kirsten a regular already? Damn it!

W.H. Auden (again?): “Murder is unique in that it abolishes the party it injures, so that society must take the place of the victim, and on his behalf demand atonement or grant forgiveness.” Wow, you are one fucked up dude, Auden, but you’re right.

I agree, Elle, New York should be experienced on vacation, not while working a murder case. Especially if you’re from there. Though you’re from Brooklyn, girl, not the same as Manhattan.

Wait, Reid has never been to New York?

Oh Hotchner, “Haven’t you talked to Reid about taking some vacation time?” and then Gideon is all like, “What’s vacation time?” I love you.

“He got picked up in the rain by a New York cab, so we definitely know he’s not a brother” oh Derek, you sly dog.

So he’s a white, organized blitz-attacker? Oh boy.

So. He blindfolds the driver before he killed him? Definitely remorse, you’re right, Gideon.

So the crime scene is between an abandoned building and an express railway on which the train doesn’t even stop. Boy that is one smart psycho.

So the lady victim came to New York to start a new life, and he just had to poop all over her parade.

He waited for her in the apartment, shot her and when she tried to run away, he knifed her? Oh god.

So it’s either a replica of a prison shanking, or a replica of serial killers? Yikers. Both don’t sound good.

So they’re looking for a small angry white guy with a day job. Well that narrows it down!

I love it that they made the Captain of the NYPD precinct they’re dealing with an African-American lady. So powerful.

“Terror in New York like we’ve never seen since Son of Sam.” Oh god, that’s some serious terror.

Wait, he’s gonna kill in a church now? Is he seriously that messed up?

What the fuck is up with his hands?

That lady is so sweet!

Did he just kill the priest? Oh god.

Reid why are you breathing down the poor detective’s neck? Leave the nice man alone.

You want them to pull that thing out of his ear? Oh god, I really hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with too much blood this episode, but if you must you must.

Ew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The rector (which always sounds to me like rectum and I can’t hear that word with a straight face, I am so sorry) was indicted with pedophilia a year ago. Yikes.

Wait, the knife he’s using is made of flint? Oh that is one sick puppy.

“Vault of all knowledge, check my flow,” well hello my supreme genius goddess.

“Okay, do you wanna time me or should I just dazzle you off the clock?” I love her so much.

“Oh baby girl, just say no,” well if Penelope is preaching not to use drugs, I’m never gonna use them again!

Also, it seems that the unsub decided that those who were discharged from their crimes are to be convicted nevertheless and charged with the maximum penalty. Oh dear lord, I just used the Criminal Minds jargon. Fuck.

“You’re a genius,” “You’re just saying it cuz it’s true.” I seriously love this character beyond measure.

Well, yeah, the detectives don’t look at the innocent as possibilities for the profile, they’re detectives, they’re trained to catch bad guys. Period.

Can I just comment that Reid’s mug in this scene looks obscenely large? I don’t even want to think about the amounts of caffeine he consumes daily lol.

Oh great, so it’s someone who has access to their files and can see that they’ve been acquitted and select his victims. Oh boy.

They have to go to the DOJ for that, right?

He’s an everyman, I get it.

Wait what. They already printed it in the papes? Oh god.

Aww they’re eating Chinese and discussing the case. Hahaha I love those guys. But Garcia should be there with them.

And Reid can’t eat with chopsticks. I love him. You are just the most precious rainbow unicorn, Spencer.

“It’s like trying to forge for dinner with a pair of number two pencils.” My excuse if I ever fail with chopsticks. Thank you.

The rubber band trick.

Let’s see if he can manage it now.

Nope. Epic failure, and I’m not even mad at you for it because you’re doing it with such grace and style that I love you for it.

Okay, a new topic, is Elle seeing anyone?

And she changed the subject back to the profile lol.

Guess that’s a negative.

“It’s absolutely incredible. 1.3 billion people stay nourished with these things.” Oh Spencer, you are amazing.

Wait what. He killed a cop? Fuck.

And it landed in the papes again. Lovely.

And it’s the same reporter. Great.

“Someday a real rain will come and wash the real scum off the streets.” Taxi Driver. Nice, Reid and Hotch!

“What you got for me, girl?” “Who do you love?” “Depends on what you’re giving me.” “Oh, don’t be such a man.” Oh lord, exactly what I needed before I turn in.

“Small butt.” “Not what I was jonesing for.” “You’re killing me with entendres.” Oh holy shit if those two don’t sneak into a supply closet I’m going to do it myself. And I’m gonna handcuff them so they have to kiss at all times.

He’s just rattling off the numbers Garcia gave him, he has it so bad. I love you Derek, but you need to get in on that luscious bodacious blonde goddess.

Oh Gideon you are one philosophical jackal and you seriously just messed with my brain. If you ever let your mind go to the place where you think about taking the law into your own hands then the unsubs would be getting into your head instead of you getting into theirs? My mind is spinning. Thanks a lot.

Okay that asshole just messed with Reid’s mind in a major way. So what if he’s 24? And already working with the FBI in the BAU? Maybe he found his calling? Don’t be a jerk.

Aw great, that asshole reporter is scooping them on every turn.

He has a file labeled “Righteous Killings” that is disturbing.

They ask him now to help them … yeah right, they think it’s him. He has amazing detail in his reports.

Ha! Gideon totally just profiled that reporter as a total loser that needs that asshole to keep killing to make a living! I love you, Mandy!

A hooded guy just shot a rando. And then he checked to see if he’s dead or not? You just shot him! That’s what happens when you shoot someone!

Oh shit. It was an undercover cop! Dang.

Wait, why is he turning himself in? That’s not the psycho killer. It can’t be.

He fits the profile to a tee, and confessed. But I mean, it’s too easy. How is it that he’s handing himself in? I seriously doubt it’s him.

Knew it. It’s not him. Gideon asked him about stabbing him in the groin and he agreed, yet they assessed he was stabbed in the head. Knew it.

He’s just another psycho who wants to be arrested? Ugh.

Oh crap. They would have the reporter to publish that they caught the killer when it’s not true to lure him out. Oh snap.

“Something’s funky, man.” Oh Derek, your street side is coming out, you perfect slab of yummy chocolate.

Wait so those cases would have been sealed for now, because it takes them 3-6 months to transcribe them? Oh crap, it’s someone inside the court. I love you, Derek Morgan.

“Holler.” Oh Penelope.

And they got him. Let’s get that Marvin Doyle bitch.

And he called in sick. Of course.

Oh boy.

I love it when they kick down doors. I don’t know why, but it’s hot as fuck.

So he has problems with voices in his head and taped aluminum on the windows with more layers of stuff to soundproof the place to keep the voices out. Oh my gods he was totally off his rockers. And even scratched out the face of his wife! And he has boxes of flints. Damn.

Bam. They found him. The next victim. Shot his parents because they abused him. Oh boy.

Oh lord, he has a wife, and he’s going home, he’s gonna be shot in his house? Oh lord.

Oh crap!

Get there quick! Come on!

Oh great, so now both Hotch and Gideon are going to be in the line of fire to try and talk him out of killing Ted. Ugh.

Wow he’s really messed up, isn’t he.

Oh thank goodness. He was about to shoot Gideon! He was about to shoot my baby! Thank goodness for the snipers. Fuck.

Awwwwwwwww, they put the song ‘Hallelujah’ that they played in Shrek. I love that version.

Mahatma Ghandi: “It is better to be violent if there is violence in our hearts than to put on the cloak of non-violence to cover impotence.” Man, that was one smart guru.

Ghandi also said: “I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary. The evil it does is permanent.” Yup. One smart guru.

Overall, this was an amazing episode. A little too graphic for me cuz I hate seeing actual wounds, but they had Penelope awesomeness, and Hotch and Gideon were amazing as always and Derek was hot and Reid was precious. I’m happy. See you all next time!!! I can’t believe there are only 5 episodes left of season one! holy smokes!

#criminal minds #s01e17 #a real rain #aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #jason gideon #mandy patinkin #derek morgan #shemar moore #elle greenaway #lola glaudini #jennifer jareau #aj cook #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #penelope garcia #kirsten vangsness

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