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incognit0slut · 20 days

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Hypothetically

Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x bau fem reader

Category: fluff/comfort

Warnings: marriage and baby talk, reader is insecure because she feels left out

A/n: This is my entry for the kid fic challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins! This was like a breath of fresh air from all the smut I’ve been writing

"Do you want to have a baby with me?"

The scalding coffee burned his tongue as your question lingered in the air. Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly and patted his chest, his eyes drifting towards you. "Uh... what?"

"Hypothetically," you replied, the tap of your pen echoing against the round table between you. "It's like a pact. If we're both still single in the future, we get married to one another and, well, start a family together."

Spencer felt the clamminess of his palms as he set his mug down, trying to steady himself. He considered you as one of the closest people in his life, if not his best friend, and he was accustomed to your random questions, but this sudden topic of conversation seemed to strike a nerve.

"Where..." he began, wiping his palm along his pants. "...where is this coming from?"

You shrugged casually, the tapping of your pen momentarily ceasing. "Just a thought. I mean, we're both at that age where these things start to cross our minds, right?"

Spencer swallowed, trying to push down the unease rising in his chest. "Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, but as he studied you, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Your gaze flickered away for a moment before you sighed, slumping against your chair.

"I have a wedding coming up this weekend." Spencer frowned, not understanding what you were trying to say. You continued, "And another one next week, and guess what? Two of my cousins are getting married next month."

"What does that have to do with...?" His voice trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Ah, I see."

But you weren't finished. Somehow, the thoughts that had lingered in your mind for the past few days spilled out right then and there, in the middle of broad daylight when you were supposed to be focusing on the case you were working on.

"And a close friend I went to high school with just gave birth while another friend from college announced she's two months pregnant. And look at me," you exclaimed, your arms flying around. "No wedding. No pregnancy. Spencer, I don't even have a boyfriend, heck, I forgot what it's like to go out on a date!"

He watched as your brow furrowed into a frown, and although your demeanor was all over the place, he couldn't help but notice how you still managed to look pretty.

"Spence?" You asked, nudging his leg with your foot under the table. "Are you listening to me?"

He blinked, momentarily pulled from his thoughts by your voice. "Sorry," he replied. "I'm listening."

You gave him a skeptical look, but the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease slightly as you leaned back in your chair.

"I just... I don't know, I feel like I'm left behind." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I'm happy for my friends and all, but sometimes it feels like everyone's moving forward but me. Like I'm stuck in this... this rut."

Spencer wasn't sure how to respond. On one hand, he knew how it felt to want something that seemed out of reach, but on the other hand, he felt like it wasn't his place to offer advice when he wasn't even sure what the future held for him.

"I get it," he finally said, trying to gather his thoughts. The least he could do was try to offer some comfort. "But just because you haven't reached those milestones yet doesn't mean you won't get there eventually."

"But what if it doesn't happen? What if I'm still all alone and nobody loves me when I'm gray and old?"

He frowned at you. "I'd still love you when you're gray and old."

"Platonically. You love me as much as you love JJ. Or Emily. Or Penny, or even Morgan." You leaned over the table. "I want to be loved passionately by someone who is head over heels for me, who can't imagine a life without me. I want to feel that kind of happiness."

His frown deepened. "I don't think you should find happiness in another person."

"You're missing the point," you groaned, crossing your arms. "I'm not saying I want to depend on someone else for my happiness. But is it too much to ask for someone to share it with? To feel like I'm someone's everything and not just another friend in the group?"

His expression softened as he listened, a sense of familiarity washing over him. He remembered feeling the same thing once, or maybe more than once; he wasn't sure. He had lost count of the times he felt his life was falling short.

But he realized the more he thought about the why—why was he so different? why couldn't he find love?—the more he felt worthless, and he hated that. So what was the best thing he did to ignore those thoughts?

Bury himself in work, because to him, pushing those feelings aside was easier than confronting them. But now, as he looked at you, it felt like he was seeing his own reflection and your words hit him harder than he expected.

"No," he quietly agreed. "It's not too much to ask for."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm tired of waiting for life to happen to me." Your gaze slowly met his. "So I came up with a plan."

His throat felt dry as he recalled how this conversation started in the first place. "The... baby plan?"

You nodded enthusiastically, sliding into the seat next to him.

"Think about it. If we're both still single when we're..." You paused, furrowing your brow as you did a quick calculation. "Forty? Yeah, let's say we're both still single when we're forty, with no partners, or like, no friends with benefits?"

You shook your head.

“Just... with no one in our lives—we get married. You and me."

He blinked, trying to process your proposal. It was unexpected, to say the least, but there was a strange logic to it that he couldn't quite shake. The idea of marrying his best friend as a backup plan was both absurd and oddly comforting.

"But what about... love?" he asked cautiously. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

You paused, considering his question before responding. "I mean, I don't think it's impossible," you said, leaning back in your seat. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying, 'Marry your best friend'?"

His gaze lingered on you, his heart beating hard against his chest. "You're saying that we can fall in love?"

Your eyes met his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Who knows?" you replied softly. "Stranger things have happened."

Spencer shouldn't entertain the possibility. After all, who knew what could happen in the future? It seemed like an absurd thought, but as he stared at you, it was hard not to imagine a life with you as his wife.

He imagined you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him with a radiant smile on your face. He pictured you both in the house you had just bought, dancing joyfully around the empty rooms as you unpacked boxes together.

Then thoughts of you being pregnant with his child—or maybe even children—filled his mind, and he envisioned a future where your kids would run around in the backyard with a pet dog trailing behind.

And then he considered the prospect of growing old with you, watching as your children eventually started families of their own while you found comfort in each other's company. All of these possibilities didn't seem so bad, because if anyone could understand him on a deep level, it was definitely you.

Maybe this crazy plan of yours wasn't so crazy after all.

"I... I guess it's not impossible," he finally admitted. Then, not wanting to seem too eager, he added, "Hypothetically speaking."

"Of course," you replied with a smile. "Hypothetically speaking."

Suddenly feeling flustered by your gaze, Spencer looked away and focused on his coffee, bringing the mug to his lips. Then you heard laughter and footsteps drawing closer, and soon Derek and Emily entered the room. Their eyes immediately landed on the two of you, sitting closely together at the table.

"What are you children whispering about?" Derek's voice interrupted, his eyebrows raised curiously as he glanced between you.

You didn't miss a beat. “Spencer and I are having a baby together."

Spencer choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in shock as he coughed and sputtered. You quickly moved to pat his back.

"Well, we're gonna get married first, right, Spence?" you added with a grin, glancing at him expectantly.

Spencer finally managed to regain his composure, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shot you a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, of course," he stammered, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Hypothetically."

Derek and Emily exchanged bemused glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Emily's curiosity seemed to win out as she lifted a hand, turning her attention back to you. "Care to explain?"

"We were discussing our backup plan."

"Backup plan?" Derek echoed.

"Yeah," you replied with a nod. "In case neither of us finds the right person by the time we're, oh, I don't know, forty or so, we figured we'd marry each other and start a family."

Derek placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "And you chose Pretty Boy over me?"

"I'm not going to compete with all your lady friends," you shot back, rising from your seat. "Come on, Spence, let's grab some lunch and brainstorm baby names."

He stood up, giving you a pointed look.

"Or do you want to discuss how we'd make those babies in the future?"

"Well, I was thinking of Amelia if it's a girl..."

You grinned, linking your arm through his before guiding him towards the door. Derek and Emily observed the natural closeness between you two, how you were practically clinging to him and how he seemed to be comfortable with it.

Derek turned to Emily as you disappeared down the hallway. "Do you think they'd actually get married when they hit forty?"

Emily shook her head. "Nope," she replied confidently. "I give it a year until he's already down on one knee."

He laughed, nodding in agreement. With the way Spencer's gaze lingered on you with unmistakable affection, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic

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foxy-eva · 5 months

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Prom Night

Summary: After everyone shared their sad (or non-existent) prom stories, Penelope decided to host a BAU Prom Night, giving Spencer the perfect excuse to finally ask out Reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) a bit of miscommunication, jealous Spencer, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party Challenge!

Word count: 2.8k

Masterlist

“And that’s how I ended up with a broken heart on prom night,” JJ concluded her story after a couple of other BAU members had shared their prom experiences in their lunch break.

“Aww, that’s so sad!” Penelope cooed.

“I didn’t even go to prom,” Spencer chimed in. “I mean, I was twelve, but still…”

Derek looked at you and asked, “What about you, pretty girl? Did anything exciting happen on your prom night?”

You took a moment to think about it and shook your head, “Don’t even get me started.”

“You know what!” Penelope suddenly exclaimed. “We should throw our very own prom night! This way we can make up for all those miserable experiences.”

“That sounds fun,” JJ agreed. “I would love to take Will to prom.”

“Yes, that’s perfect. Everyone has to bring a date!” Penelope locked eyes with Spencer and made herself very clear, “No exceptions. Not even for you, doctor.”

Spencer cleared his voice as a slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks. It made you smile to see him like this and you wondered if he already had someone to ask to go to prom with him. His eyes met yours for a moment and your heart immediately skipped a beat.

To everyone’s surprise Hotch agreed to have a BAU Prom Night and made sure that you could use one of the function rooms at Quantico. Over the next few days you helped Penelope figure out the details until the date of your big night was set.

Everything was going as planned except for one detail - you still didn’t have a date. You were sure that you were the only one at this point, even Spencer seemed to have found someone. At least that was what you assumed after you kept catching him and Derek mumbling about something (or someone) and stopping once you got close enough to eavesdrop.

Three days before the festivities began, you and Penelope were waiting for fresh coffee in the kitchen while talking about the perfect color arrangement for decorations. Spencer approached and noticed that the coffee wasn’t ready yet, so he joined into the conversation by sharing some facts about color theory.

“Hey, Y/N,” you turned your head to spot Anderson approaching. “I heard you don’t have a date for prom night yet.”

“You don’t?” Spencer exclaimed. “I thought you had a boyfriend.”

You flashed him a confused look and muttered, “What? No.”

“But you mentioned this guy a few weeks ago. I overheard you talking about a date with him,” Spencer stammered.

“I never heard from him again,” you clarified and turned to Anderson. “And no, I don’t have a prom date yet.”

The man you had never paid any attention to before smiled at you and said, “Well, now you do!”

Spencer looked shocked at Anderson’s words and stormed out of the room without saying anything. You had never seen him acting this way and watched as he disappeared in the empty conference room. You flashed Anderson an apologetic look before following Spencer to talk to him.

You found him sitting at the table, pretending to look through a file when you sat down beside him. “Spencer, what’s going on?”

“I thought you already had a date,” he mumbled without looking at you. “And now you’re going with Anderson.”

Slowly you got a hunch what all of this was about. It made your heart flutter to realize that he wanted to ask you out.

“I haven’t agreed to go with him, yet,” you told him.

He finally locked eyes with you and asked, “Do you want to go with him?”

“I don’t want to go alone. But the guy I actually want to go with hasn’t asked me yet.”

Spencer didn’t respond, instead his eyes found the file on the desk again. You couldn’t believe how oblivious he was and realized that you had to spell it out for him. “Spencer, I’m talking about you.”

“Wh..What?” It took a few seconds until he realized the meaning of your words. “Oh.”

“Are you gonna ask me out now or what?” You giggled.

“Yes! Yes. Uhm,” he cleared his voice and took a deep breath. “Do you want to go to prom with me?”

You smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to.”

A wide grin appeared on his face and you noticed a sparkle in his eyes you had never seen before. Spencer seemed genuinely happy.

“Should I uhm… pick you up at your place?” Spencer wondered.

“No, I’ll get ready here because I have to help with decorations. But you could pick me up right here and we’ll walk down to the function room together?”

“That sounds lovely.”

After you turned down Anderson’s invitation, you and the rest of the team had to get back to your job for the next few days. It was hard to focus on work as your mind kept drifting off to the fact that Spencer had finally asked you out. Anytime that thought crossed your mind, you felt your cheeks heating up and your heart began beating erratically inside your chest.

For the first time since you started working at the BAU, Spencer didn't look right away whenever your eyes met his. His glances lingered on you and it made you feel like you were the only person in the room with him.

When the big night finally arrived, you spent most of the day preparing the function room for the evening. About thirty minutes before everyone else would arrive, you hastily disappeared in the restroom to change into your dress, fix your hair and put on some make-up.

Spencer arrived at the conference room just a few minutes after you. He wore suits most days but you had never seen him wearing anything that fancy. He looked incredibly handsome in his black suit, white dress shirt and bow tie.

Before you had a chance to tell him how gorgeous he looked, he stammered, “Wow… you look stunning.”

Your fingertips brushed over the soft fabric of your dress as if to straighten out wrinkles that weren’t there. A wide smile spread over your face at the compliment. It was no coincidence that you picked a purple dress, aware that it was Spencer’s favorite color.

“Thank you. You look very handsome, too.”

A rosy shade spread over Spencer’s cheeks while his lips curled into a coy smile. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments until he seemed to remember the item he held in his hands.

“Here, I got you something,” he said as he let you take a look.

It was a small corsage with white and lavender-colored blossoms. It matched your dress perfectly. You reached out your hand, implicitly telling him to put it over your wrist.

His fingertips gently brushed over the back of your hand as he placed the corsage on your arm. His touch was innocent but ignited sparks inside your chest nonetheless. He must have felt it too because when his eyes found yours you noticed that warm glimmer in them again.

As the two of you entered the function room the party had already started. The dance floor was filled with your coworkers, moving in ways you had never seen before. The colors of the balloons matched the rest of the decor and you were more than happy that everything had worked out so wonderfully.

“So, what do you think about your very first prom, boy wonder?” Penelope giggled as she approached the both of you.

“It’s perfect,” was all he had to say.

Penelope grabbed you both at your arms to pull you onto the dance floor. Spencer protested at first but gave in once you took his hand in yours. You joined the others in their silly little dances and to your surprise, Spencer did too. That was until a slow song came on.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he turned to you and placed his hands on your waist. You let yours rest on his shoulders and began swaying from side to side.

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he chuckled as he looked down at his feet.

“You’re doing great, Spencer,” you sincerely responded as you moved a little closer towards him until there barely was any distance left between your bodies.

“Is this better than your actual prom night?” He wanted to know. “You never actually told us about it.”

You couldn't stop your hands from moving to the nape of his neck, gently playing with a few loose curls as you purred, “It’s so much better.”

Just when you thought that he was about to lean down to kiss you, you noticed the high-pitched laughter of your female coworkers.

“Aah, look! They are exactly like those teenagers in every high school romcom!” JJ chirped as she pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the two of you.

You turned your head to find her face in the crowd, prompting Penelope to chime in, “No, don’t stop, my two lovebirds! Go on, kiss!”

You felt your cheeks heating up at the realization that you had an audience in this intimate moment.

“Do you wanna try out the photo booth?” Spencer suggested to get away from the curious glances of your work family.

“That sounds fun!”

And it was fun. You spent a while posing like those typical prom couples before taking a bunch of silly pictures with the props Penelope had bought.

“Okay, I think we’re done,” you laughed once your cheeks started hurting from smiling so much.

Spencer shook his head and pressed the button once more. “One last set!”

Just when the countdown of the camera reached the number zero, you felt Spencer’s lips on your cheek. Your head was spinning after everything that had happened tonight. It seemed like finally being close to the man you had pined after for months gave you the courage to show some initiative.

You turned your head to find his mouth, capturing it in a soft kiss with no intention to stop even after the last photo was taken. Kissing him then was chaste and sweet and so, so perfect.

“Busted!” You heard Derek’s voice as he approached the photo booth with his date. “You two should get a room.”

Almost in unison the both of you responded, “Shut up, Morgan.”

The next few hours flew by quicker than either of you would have liked. Spencer must have noticed how exhausted you were, so he offered, “It’s getting pretty late. I can drive you home if you want?”

Even though you didn't want this night to end, you knew that it was probably for the best. “Yeah, I would like that.”

Spencer nodded and took your hand as he led you out of the room. The way to his car seemed endless and the need to be close to each other was all-consuming. There was no way you could make it without giving into your desperation.

The elevator seemed like the perfect place for your second kiss. Spencer pushed you against one of the walls, his hands cupping your face as he leaned down to find your lips. This time it was far from innocent, the way he instantly deepened the kiss let you know that he must have fantasized about this moment for just as long as you had.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against your lips. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

What followed felt like a haze, between longing glances, sweet kisses and bright laughter you somehow made it to your doorstep. Spencer leaned down to find your lips once more before he said, “I would really like to take you out to dinner sometime.”

You kissed him again and mumbled against his lips, “I would like that, too.”

His smile was soft when he purred, “Goodnight. I had a great time tonight.”

Right when you wanted to respond, you remembered something. Your facial expression must have given it away, because Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Without really thinking about it, you told him, “I can’t get out of this dress alone.”

His saccharine smile morphed into a playful smirk. “Is that so?”

“I know that sounds like the lamest excuse to… you know,” you giggled. “But it's true. Penelope had to help me put it on earlier. There’s no way I’ll be able to get it off on my own.”

Instead of teasing you some more, Spencer simply followed you inside your apartment. You lost the ability to form any coherent thought once you turned around and Spencer touched your back to undo the zipper. He opened it all the way down to the small of your back. The way his knuckles brushed over your exposed skin was intoxicating.

Once the dress dropped to the floor, you turned around again. Spencer let his sight wander over body for a split second before he found your eyes. You noticed how his fingers twitched and he licked over his lips.

“If you don’t tell me to leave right now I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

You stepped closer to him and whispered, “Stay.”

That was all he needed to hear. His hands were on you in an instant, exploring the curves and dips of your body while your bodies melted into one another in a passionate kiss. With joined forces you helped each other shed each piece of clothing as you stumbled into your bedroom. Spencer pushed you onto the mattress and you welcomed him on top of you.

He began trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your pulse point. Your whole body felt like it was floating on a cloud as you felt his lips wandering over your skin.

“Would you have let him take your dress off, too?” He mumbled against your neck.

It took you a moment to realize that he was talking about Anderson. “No,” you sighed. “I’m yours, Spencer.”

He moaned in response to your words and found your lips once more. One of his hands wandered down your body, greedily grabbing at your skin until it found its destination between your legs. The moment he noticed that you were already dripping with desire for him, he groaned, “You’re mine.”

Your whole body felt like it was on fire when he began dragging his fingertips through your slick folds. When he focussed on your little bud, you couldn't help but start to grind your core against his hand. Your own hands became curious and wandered from his shoulders down his body until your fingers could wrap around his hardness.

The sounds of his pleasure spurred you further on as you moved your hand up and down, letting your thumb glide over his weeping tip. He felt hot and heavy inside your palm and you got impatient to find out how good he’d feel inside of you.

Spencer's eyes followed your hand when it let go of him to grab a condom from the nightstand instead. He was quick to put it on before kneeling between your legs. The way he took a moment to let his eyes graze over your body almost felt more intimate than anything you had done until then.

When he leaned over you he reached between your bodies to guide his cock to your opening. Your body welcomed him without any resistance and you relished the sensation of him filling you out perfectly.

“Fuck!” He groaned as you clenched around him. “I have wanted to do this for so long.”

With your arms and legs wrapped around his body you brought him impossibly close.

“Take me,” you demanded before kissing him again.

He began pushing into you, slowly at first but with an accelerated pace once he seemed sure that you could take it. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure and your bodies colliding over and over again.

When he felt you getting tighter around him, he propped himself up on one arm and reached down between your bodies with his other hand. When he found your most sensitive spot, he instantly began drawing tight circles around it.

“Are you gonna come for me?” He sighed as if it hadn’t been obvious.

You were already too far gone to answer him, your climax taking the both of you by surprise. When he felt your walls pulsing around his hardness he praised you, “Good girl.”

Just a few moments later he fell over the edge himself, throbbing inside you before collapsing into your arms. He began mumbling sweet nothings into your ear while your fingertips danced over his back.

After cleaning up, you found your home in each other's arms.

“I’m really glad I got to experience my first prom with you,” Spencer cooed before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I can’t believe you almost went with Anderson though.”

“I can't believe you almost didn’t ask me out,” You snickered in response.

“Fair point.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut

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holydayaria · 1 month

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Negotiation

Phinks x Reader

Synopsis: Phinks gets you back.

Warnings: yandere, i wrote this for his birthday and then forgot to post it on his birthday lol, hardly proofread

2.2k words

“Babe, come on, I’m not even mad.”

“We can go home and forget about this if you just come out already.”

“If you come out now, I promise I won’t hurt you. You know I’d never hurt you, yeah?”

Phinks is loud, not shouting, but loud enough that you can hear him, how his voice echoes off of the empty halls. Loud enough to make his presence known. 20 minutes before this, he was threatening to break your ankle if you didn’t come out that instant. It’s like he can’t decide on which strategy to use to coax you out of hiding. You wouldn’t be surprised if Phinks started shaking a bag of chips and tried calling for you as if you were a runaway dog.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that’s all he saw you as.

“I’m trying to be nice to you, you’re just making things difficult?”

There’s a pause, and one of the closet doors slams shut. Phinks continues his search, his jaw clenched and his palms beginning to sweat. You stay crouched in your hiding spot upstairs, squished between shoe boxes and behind old coats on their wire hangers. The closet you’ve hidden yourself in is a small walk-in in the master bedroom. The house is on the smaller side, but it makes up for it with a second floor and a basement that is more like its own apartment. You continue trying to listen in, attempting to gauge where Phinks may be over the sound of your racing heartbeat.

“I’m trying to give you a chance to do the right thing.”

What a joke. He’s talking as if you’re doing something wrong. There’s another pause, this one considerably longer. You can imagine Phinks now, gritting his teeth and scowling, trying to calm himself down, even by a margin. If you focus hard enough, you could even smell his cologne that he wears too much of. You continue to listen, trying to pick up any noise you can. Hiding in an abandoned house wasn’t your plan for today, it was just meant to be a quick stop for you to rest and get your bearings. Phinks must have been following you this whole time, maybe not closely, if he’s already found you here.

“Fine, we can do this the hard way.”

Part of you thinks he likes this game of cat and mouse, because why else would he drag it out for so long? The truth was that Phinks was betting on you coming out on your own and apologizing to him for running away so he wouldn’t have to punish you too harshly. That, and the longer you were out of his sight, the more nervous he got.

Phinks continues to go through the house, still not done going over the first floor. If you were down there, he’d find you right away. If you weren’t, then you were still a sitting duck. The only way out from the second floor of the home was through the windows, which had the “landlord special” of being painted shut. Phinks would undoubtedly hear you trying to pry the window open, should you dare to lave your spot. Your only other chance was to somehow sneak down the stairs while he was preoccupied checking the kitchen cabinets, just in case you were hiding there.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

His footsteps ascend up the stairs, getting louder and nearer. You feel like you’re going to be sick. There’s no way he won’t find you. He takes his time to look around the other rooms, the minutes passing by like hours. Soon, though, he comes before the door to the room you’re hiding in. He says nothing, no offer for you to come out already, no announcement of his impending arrival. The door slowly opens with a grating creaking sound. It must not have had its hinges oiled in years. It hurts your ears and makes your heart feel like it’s going to thud-thud-thud right out of your chest and onto the floor. You had left the door to the room unlocked, a locked door would have been a dead giveaway of your hiding place. A lock wouldn’t have helped you out much, anyway. Phinks steps inside without much urgency; as if he knows he’s got you.

His footsteps sound heavier than they are, they echo in the empty room as he pretends to aimlessly walk around. You stay crouched in the closet, a hand clasped over your mouth and nose to not risk Phinks even hearing your breathing. You feel like you’re going to throw up. It’s going to be fine, he’s going to leave. He won’t find you, you can be free. You repeat that mantra in your head, over and over again. The thought of Phinks yanking the closet door open and dragging you out by your hair overrides your thinking. He’s going to find you, he’s going to decide that you aren’t worth the trouble. You’ll die here. You want to scream, you want to pass away right there.

He eventually stands in front of the closet door, you can see his feet blocking out the light underneath the door. You hyper-focus on his shoes, it’s too dark in the closet for you to see the doorknob. Phinks leans on the wooden door slightly, pressing his ear against it, not that you can see. You can hear him, though, shifting his weight and how the door is pressed even further against its wooden frame. Your breath nearly hitches in your throat, the worst thoughts run through your head. Maybe you should open the door now, he knows you’re in there. He has to know, he’s just fucking with you. If you open the door, if you apologize and grovel at his feet, maybe he won’t kill you. Maybe the sight of you looking so sorry for yourself will convince him to forgive you and to go easy on you.

That’s just wishful thinking.

He takes a step away from the door. Your heart is beating rapidly, now is the moment when he’ll open the doorknob. He’ll see you, sitting on the floor with your eyes about to pop out of your head in fright. That never happens. Rather, he steps away, even further. You can hear him walking around, though he’s gone quiet now. A surge of disbelief goes through you. He’s leaving. His footsteps get quieter until it’s hardly audible. There’s a loud slam of a door, and the house goes silent. He’s left, he’s gone. You strain your ear to pick up any sound, going as far as to press your ear on the closet floor. It’s so dark, and you can feel the dust on the wooden floors tickling your skin.

There’s nothing.

You slowly move out of the closet, breathing easier now that you’re not cramped in a stuffy room. He’s left the door to the room completely ajar, you could walk out right now. You take a few steps, legs wobbly and hardly able to support you. When your weight shifts, the wooden floorboard beneath you creaks. You pause, holding your breath. It was quiet, so very quiet. You wait for a few seconds more and think the noise has gone undetected. Assuming it’s safe, you go to take another step. There’s a sudden rush of footsteps up the stairs and down the hall, coming closer to you. A scream nearly rips its way out of your throat when you hear the pounding footfalls getting closer. You rush to the door, locking it and pressing your weight against it to keep it shut. To keep him out.

Like a shitty plank of wood is going to stop Phinks.

The wooden door slams against it’s frame with how fast you move, half a second later and he would have gotten you. You can hear a hushed curse under the mans breath.The footsteps (more like stomps) come to a halt and he tries the doorknob. It nearly falls off with how much force he’s using. “Open the door.” He almost sounds out of breath when he says it. Desperate, even. You’re right there, just a few inches away. It takes an embarrassing amount of self-restraint for Phinks to not punch through the door and drag you back to him by force. “I know you’re in there, so open the fucking door. Don't make this harder than it has to be.” You don’t budge. It’s almost physically painful for him to hold back, even by the tiniest amount.

He can hear you, ragged breathing and all on the other side of the door. Phinks bites the inside of his cheek, weighing his options. He knows where exactly you are, it’d be easy to tear through the door and pull you out of there. It seems like the smart option as far as he’s concerned. But perhaps he can give you one last chance for you to come to him on your own terms. He licks his lips, trying to figure out the words to say. “Hey, come on, you know I meant it when I said I’m not even mad,” He says after a silent pause. You know him, you know better. This man has raised his voice at you for showering without notifying him first, and yelled at you for not being more careful when you cut yourself whilst chopping vegetables. He’d gone as far as to get short with you when he thought you were looking at the male news anchor on television a bit too intently. It felt like everything you did served to soothe his jealousy and play to his ego. Phinks has never hit you before, but you wouldn’t be surprised if today was the day he did. “Just… open the door, so we can go home.”

You step away from the door a bit, and Phinks thinks you’re readying yourself to open the door to face him. Rather, you quickly move away from the door to try another stunt. What an idiot, he thinks. It doesn’t take him more than five seconds to rip the door off of its hinges, meanwhile you’ve barely started trying to get the window in the bedroom open. So much for your escape attempt. Phinks pulls you into him, muscular arms wrapped tightly around you. You’re sure he can feel your heart hammering out of your chest with how close you two are. You let out a shriek, but it’s cut off with a calloused hand over your mouth. Not like anyone is around to hear you anyway.

“There you are. There's my girl.” He utters, with a heavy sigh of relief. It sends a shudder up your spine, his words make your stomach, already dropped, twist and contort. You wish he would just kill you. He sounds insane, you think. You should find the slightest amount of comfort, considering that he doesn’t sound all that angry. All you feel is impending doom. You’re too panic-stricken to note how he’s not-so-subtly sniffing your hair, as if it’s calming in a way. Phinks removes his hand from your mouth once he’s sure you aren’t going to keep screaming like a banshee. He’s got you pressed so tight against him that you almost can’t breathe.

“Why didn’t you open the door?” If you listen closely enough, you might be able to detect a twinge of disappointment in his words. “I thought you were going to kill me.” You admit in a quavering voice. You prepare for him to shout at you, to sneer or call you stupid. Phinks scoffs, as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing in the world. He doesn’t mention to you that it was definitely on his mind when he first saw that you were gone. Not like he actually wanted to, it was just a heat of the moment thought, that’s what he tells himself. “No way I’d get rid of you that easily.” He says, turning you around so you face him. His expression contrasts with your dreading one. It’s a look that you can’t quite pinpoint, somewhere between anger and respite.

You’re here, back with him, and in that moment, that’s the only thing that matters. He can correct your behavior once you’re both at home.

His hands come to grip your shoulders, and as he talks, they slide up to your collarbones. “You are so stupid, do you know that?” His hands are inching upward. “What if you had gotten hurt? You know how fucking easy it would have been for someone else to just,“ Phinks wraps his hands around your neck to demonstrate, “kill you?” His hands squeeze your throat by the slightest, unconsciously. “You should be thankful I came to get you, you really are a pain sometimes,” Phinks says it as if it’s an endearing compliment. His hands don’t leave your throat. “Someone else could have gotten to you first, I don’t even want to think about what would happen then.” He speaks as if that’s a far-fetched possibility. You both know there isn’t any escape from him.

As if realizing that he’s freaking you out even more, he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, squishing your face in his palms. His gaze softens a bit in comparison to your terrified eyes.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

#phinks x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere phinks #_phinks #_hxh #yandere phinks x reader

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emberfrostlovesloki · 7 months

Text

Melancholia [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Right (@optimistic-nihilist) Center (@vivienvalentino) sent to me via my love (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (@citronplume)

Prompt: Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring, aka, how the reader met Aaron. Also, the reader is feeling down due to the seasonal changes, and Aaron is there to give her some love and support.

Category: Hurt/comfort/fluff

Word Count: 6.7K

Content Warnings: Mentions of mental health (depression and seasonal depression), mention of eating (reader has missed some meals), light drinking, minor language

A/N: This is another one-shot inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute Writing Challenge and this one is actually a meet-cute! The reader is also a non-BAU member. I’ve been having the seasonal sads, so this is sort of based on my feelings a bit. Given that World Mental Health Day was earlier this week I just want to say that you matter! You are loved, and I am so happy you are here. There is not shame in getting help or just talking to someone. I’m very grateful for my friends on here and my messages are always open. If you liked this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you have a great rest of your week - Levi.

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/f/b_ = your favorite book

_y/e/c_ = your eye color

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/b/f_ = your best friend

_y/b/f’s/n_ = your best friends name

_y/f/a_ = your favorite artist

_y/c/f_ = your comfort food.

_y/n_ checked the weather diligently every morning before she got ready for the day. As someone who had a penchant for keeping up with her favorite aesthetic look, knowing what the weather was going to be for the day was a must. _y/n_ had not planned for a total and utter flood to come down from a sky that was promised to be ‘clear and sunny’ all day. It had started out as just a few drops, but soon it was an unrelenting pelting of water on the pavement. The street offered little cover, and _y/n_ moved more quickly down the road looking for any relief. Finally, she saw it in the small awning of a local bookstore she liked. There was just one small issue, there was already someone standing under the protected space. ‘What the hell,’ _y/n_ thought. She would rather be uncomfortably close to a stranger than continue to get soaked through. At this point the outfit she had picked for the day was a bust anyway, so why not lose a little dignity while she was at it. Thankfully the tall man saw her coming and moved as far to the side as the space allowed. Even with this being the case when _y/n_ slipped under the awning the two of them were standing with their shoulders essentially pressed together. They avoided looking at each other for a moment due to the awkwardness of their close quarters. However, the feeling passed and the man said in a low tenor voice, “This is some storm we’re having here.” At hearing the man’s smooth, even voice, _y/n_ turned her head his way and actually looked him over for the first time. He was tall, as she had seen before, but now that she was next to him, his height was more noticeable. He was more prepared for the weather than _y/n_ had been, but he was still pretty soggy with his shot hair sticking to his forehead slightly. The man was also fit. _y/n_ could tell from the way his nice clothes sat on his body. The stranger might have been wet, but he was also warm. Standing this close to him, _y/n_ could feel the warmth coming off of him in waves. For a moment _y/n_ wondered if the man was sick, but he didn’t look pale or flushed; he looked perfectly fine as a matter of fact. More than just fine. _y/n__ internally berated herself for thinking that a total stranger was attractive, but she couldn’t help herself. It took _y/n_ a second to realize that she hadn’t yet responded to the man’s comment about the storm and quickly said, “Oh yeah. This is like Biblical or something. Do you think we should start building an arc?” _y/n_ meant to make a joke, and she cringed at her own choice of words even as they came out of her mouth. Thankfully the man made what sounded like a small chuckle or laugh, though in all honestly, it might have just been him letting out a breath. Either way _y/n_ didn’t want to think about it too hard out of embarrassment.

Hotch watched the young woman move down the soaked sidewalks, her eyes looking for a place to land that wouldn’t mean a bucket of water being poured repeatedly on one's head over and over again like being in the open was. There really only was one place for her to go, and that was next to him under the awning of the bookstore he had hoped to stop in on before heading to Morgan’s. The team was celebrating Emily’s birthday, and even though he had a gift and card for Prentiss, both of which he hoped weren’t ruined by the rain, he had wanted to get her something extra. Prentiss had been going through a lot the last couple of months and he wanted to support her in the little ways he could. The book he had wanted to buy was taunting him from the illuminated window. It was Zadie Smith’s new novel, The Fraud. He had also been hoping to get Jack a new book to read to him at bedtime as well. As much as Aaron liked The Little Prince and the few other stories he often read to Jack before bed, he had to admit that he was slightly sick of them. However, the bookstore had been closed, ‘Due to a family emergency’ the sign on the front door had read. At that point, the skies had opened and he found refuge under the small awning. Now the woman was near to him, and in another second she was next to him, pressed close due to the limited space offered by the covering. Hotch moved infinitesimally to the left to give them both a bit of breathing room. There was a slight awkwardness to the closeness of their bodies, and Hotch took that moment to look the woman over. She was younger than him, he assumed, and not dressed for the weather. Neither was he really, but at least he had a jacket. The woman must have been freezing, as she looked soaked to the bone and her bare shoulders kept catching water droplets from the leaky awning. For a moment Hotch had the idea of taking off his jacket and giving it to the woman. And then he had the more outrageous thought that if they stood face to face, there would be more space for them to be dry. Aaron quickly swiped the thoughts out of his brain. Internally Aaron thought, ‘God get a grip Hotchner. You sound like someone from a dime store romance novel.’

Aaron resisted the urge to sigh at his life at the moment. He was attempting, keyword attempting, to put himself out there more. It had been a few months since Hailey had left him, and he had tried his best to process the loss of his best friend and wife. They were still amicable, and hearing it from her side of things helped Aaron make sense of her choice -- even if it still hurt him. Rossi had been supportive of Aaron trying it out with a few women just to see. None of his attempts so far had been very successful. He was on a few apps and when he matched with people he tended to panic. The idea of having to open up to essentially total strangers never sat right with him. What would he say? “Hey I work for the FBI and I can tell when you’re lying, and I work 70+ hours a week, and I’ll be gone a good deal of the time, and I have more classified secrets than you can guess?” It all felt a bit overwhelming to him. Not only was it overwhelming, but it was demeaning also. Trying to figure out if he liked a woman based on a few photos and a blurb about their life and experiences just didn’t sit right with him. For a moment he let his mind wander. He wished he could just meet someone naturally, but he knew such occurrences were rare in life, particularly for someone his age. Finally, he pulled himself together and bridged the gap between the woman and him to end the silence lingering between them by saying something about the rain. The woman looked up and over him before responding with a joke. He nearly laughed before responding, “I don’t think we have the time or materials. We might be fated to drown.” His reply caused the woman to laugh, and it was a soft sweet sound, like ice being poured into a crystal glass. The sound was quickly muffled by the rain and the sound of an approaching car. The sidewalk with the awning was very near the street and as the car passed it sloshed a large dirty wave up and around the woman’s legs. The woman said, “Eww” as the extra wetness moved over her body. She stepped back a bit as another car came quickly down the street. Aaron, rather protectively, moved his body in front of the woman taking the splash of water himself.

_y/n_ didn’t expect the man to move in front of her and as he positioned his body to get wet instead of her, she raised an arm, ever so briefly touching his back. She was going to say, “You don’t have to do that,” but he had already gotten wet and the car was far down the street before she had the thought. The man turned to face her, and they were so close to each other, just an inch or so apart that she could feel his warm breath on her face. Looking up at the handsome man caused her brain to stutter for a moment, and she didn’t even realize that her pupils were beginning to dilate, and there was a small blush blossoming over her face. However, the man did. When _y/n_ had composed herself, she finally said, “Thank you for doing that. You didn’t have to.” The man gave her a small smile and replied, “It’s my pleasure.” He seemed like he was going to say more, but the ping of his phone made him stop. He pulled his iPhone from the pocket of his shirt and seemed to nod at the screen. The man put the phone back where it had come from and then returned his attention to _y/n_. He asked, “How far are you going in this storm? I’m assuming you’re not planning on standing here forever?” There was a sort of mirth in his expression that made _y/n_ momentarily be warmed from the inside. Being this close to a stranger would normally make _y/n_ uncomfortable, but there was something about this man that was inherently non-threatening. She answered his question honestly saying, “I actually really need to get a move on. I was trying to make it to the subway station on 19th Street. It’s only three blocks down from here.” The man nodded undid one of the inner zippers of his jacket and pulled out a folded copy of the days New York Times. _y/n_ could see a fancy car pull up near them and stall. For one fleeting moment, she had a bad feeling about this man and a waiting car, but it was only a moment as he extended the paper toward her and said, “Sorry it’s not much. Maybe you could hold it over your head while you walk? I have to run myself, but have a good rest of your day.” And with that, the man turned around and walked into the rain. His shoulders were hunched as the water hit him once more, and he half-jogged to the Corvette on the street. She could just barely hear the start of a conversation as the stranger closed the door of the car. Now that she had just a slight cover, _y/n_ placed the paper over her head and moved back onto the wet sidewalk as well. She gave the car one final wave as she ran down the road.

Rossi pulled up and watched as Aaron stood very close to a woman under an awning taking a beating from the rain. He didn’t have a good chance to see exactly what the woman looked like, but he could tell that she was invested in whatever Aaron was saying to her. Rossi sighed softly. He knew that Hotch often beat himself up about meeting new people. He was also still beating himself up about Hailey. Rossi wished that his friend could see that people, women, were actually interested in him. That they wouldn’t pick apart his every flaw or see the guilt that he felt. Not that the woman Aaron was talking to was ‘the one,’ just that people would care about him if he allowed it to happen. If he was vulnerable. Aaron moved toward the car and opened the door, leaning down to sit in the passenger seat. Rossi turned to Hotch and teasingly said, “Having a nice conversation over there?” Aaron scoffed and said, “It was fine.” Aaron could hear the deeper jesting tone in Rossi’s words, and he was reminded of how many times Dave had been his hype man like he was in his teens going on his first real date. Aaron didn’t mind it as long as he wasn’t being patronized. For now, it was just a reminder of his own personal failings. Hotch didn’t notice, but as he had gotten into the car, there was a tinge of color on his cheeks; Rossi did.

_y/n_ never expected to see the good-looking man from the rainstorm again, but as fortune would have it, she did. _y/n_ was out at the park taking a stroll and doing some reading a few weeks later. The weather was much improved and the crisp air was perfect to spend a few hours outside exploring her new surroundings. She’d just moved into the neighborhood a few months ago, and due to her busy work-life balance, she hadn’t really gotten to know the area yet. A coworker had recommended Theodore Rosevelt Island Park as a nice place to spend the afternoon and had promised that it wasn’t super busy or loud. The coworker had been right. The park was beautiful. The sprawling trails offered variety a of scenery. _y/n_ had picked a simple hilly paved trail to just enjoy the weather and the crisp smell of fall. After around an hour of walking, she settled down on the grass and started reading _y/f/b_. After another hour, _y/n_ felt her eyes growing heavy with sleep, and she sat up to get ready to leave. As she shifted to her feet, a glint of sunlight from the ground caught her attention. She stood and moved three yards over to where she had seen the light coming from. The source was a lost phone whose back-facing camera had caught the light at just the right angle to be seen by _y/n_. She picked up the lost item and clicked on the home button. The screen blinked alive. The phone only had ten percent battery left and she wondered if it had been laying out for long or if it being in the sun had drained its power banks. There were five missed calls, three from the same number and two from two separate numbers. _y/n_ assumed that the owner of the phone had gone to separate people in the park and asked to use their phone to call the lost one to see if anyone would pick up. _y/n_ checked and the sound was off, so even that strategy wouldn’t have worked anyway unless someone had found the phone. Otherwise, no one would have heard it go off. As _y/n_ walked back to her spot, trying to think about how to get the lost item back to its owner. While she looking at the little boy who was on the phone’s home screen, it vibrated in her hand with a number with no name attached to it. _y/n_ swiped the answer button and said, “Hello?” There was a small silence on the other side of the line as if whoever had been calling was surprised someone had picked up. Finally, the person, a man, said, “Hey. I lost my phone about a half hour ago and, well you found it. Could I come to you and get it?” The man on the other end sounded slightly breathless. His voice sounded oddly familiar. _y’n_ was sure she had heard it before somewhere but couldn’t place it. _y/n_ responded to the man’s question saying, “I’m on the Drivesdale scenic loop. There’s that big oak tree if you know it. I’m under that tree.” The man replied, “I do know it. I can be there in about ten minutes if you can wait?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “Of course. I’ll be here.” There was an odd silence before _y/n_ heard a muttered reply on the other end of the line before the phone call ended.

_y/n_ knew the man the second he rounded the corner in the bend in the path. It was the guy from the day that it was raining buckets. He was far less soggy now, and he was wearing a black t-shirt and back jogging shorts that highlighted his distinct calf muscles. His shirt also emphasized his forearms which seemed strong. _y/n_ wished she could think about other things other than the physical attributes of the man quickly jogging toward her, except that was all she had to go off of. That and the fact that he knew someone who owned a fancy sports car. _y/n_ stood as the man drew near.

Aaron was highly annoyed at himself for losing his phone. How he hadn’t noticed its weight missing from his pocket baffled him. He wasn’t sure how far he had moved since the phone made its mysterious disappearance. Today was a long run day for him, and he had moved around twelve miles according to his Apple watch. He briefly, sarcastically, thanked god that it wasn’t his work phone that had gone missing. But that would never happen. His FBI-issued phone stayed in a zipped pocket on the inside of his shirt and it stayed on all the time. Aaron had asked a few people if she could use their phones to see if someone had picked up the lost item, and he was close to despair and thinking he would have to go back home and try the ‘find my iPhone app. A wave of relief washed over Aaron as someone picked up for his last attempt at finding the phone while not having to leave the park. He listened to the location of the person who had it and confirmed that he would be right over. He ended the call and thanked the kind elderly woman who had let him use her phone. Hotch set out on a brisk jog, not wanting the woman holding his phone to wait longer than needed.

Hotch had found himself worn out over the last few cases. Not that they were the worst cases he had ever seen, but the continued horrors and depravity he saw on a weekly basis were wearing on his morale. He was also tired. He’d done his normal pre-workout routine, but the energy drink and warm-up didn’t seem to have its normal effects. Hotch blamed both of these emotional blightes for his losing his phone and his not noticing. As he rounded the corner toward the big oak tree, there were very few people around and he saw the woman he was sure he had talked to a few moments before. As he got closer to the woman, it took him a moment to realize that he had seen her before. As he scanned through his memories of the past weeks, he clocked her as the person he had been stranded with under the bookstore awning. She looked lovely and calm as she was clearly scanning the area for him. Hotch had thought she looked good the day he had first met her, with her bright _y/e/c_ eyes standing out on her slightly flushed face. But now that she was dry and more relaxed, Hotch could appreciate her in a more natural environment. Aaron took a sharp breath in as he remembered how close they had been standing next to each other, he looked down at her as the cars passed by, splashing his legs and soaking his socks further. There was also that brief moment as her hand had touched his upper back. Aaron cleared his throat and moved those thoughts somewhere deeper in his mind. Somewhere fantasy could take root if he wasn’t careful. Hotch put on a small smile as he stopped in front of the woman. She was holding out his phone for him, and he reached out for it. After the cool metal was in his left hand, he extended his right hand and said, “Thank you so much for finding this. It’s a pleasure seeing you again. I see you survived the rain.” There was a beat of silence, and then he added, “I’m Aaron, Hotchner by the way.”

_y/n_ smiled up at Aaron and took his hand in hers. He gave it a firm yet steady shake and she said, “I’m _y/n_, _l.n_. What a surprise to see you again. How have you been?” _y/n_ wasn’t sure why she asked the last questions, but it felt natural. She was also distracted by his scent. He was sweaty, but there was a sort of brine to the scent. Like when one stood next to the seashore at twilight. When Aaron responded, she smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re doing well. I’ve gotta head out, but it was nice to see you again, Aaron. I hope you have a good rest of your weekend.” _y/n_ didn’t particularly have to go anywhere, but she had the sinking feeling that if she stayed around the figure that was Aaron Hotchner, she might say something silly or stupid, and for some reason, she didn’t want to seem like that to him. As she had the first time they met, she gave a small wave and moved down the path. Again, she thought this was the last time that she would see him.

They were destined to meet again three weeks later at the local bar in the neighborhood. Seated at a small table, _y/n_ shared her new life updates with _y/b/f_ who was visiting for the weekend. _y/n_ had just covered the rainstorm incident and she said, “And then on top of that I saw him again later in the month. Let me tell you, if I thought he was handsome in the rain, you should have seen him in his workout clothes!” _y/n_ was speaking openly and candidly given that her inhibitions were down because she had already had three drinks. Her friend who had a similar buzz said, “Okay, wait _y/n_. I’m going to need you to describe this guy in lots of detail. You always have a way with words, and I need the skinny. He sounds like a dreamboat.” _y/n_ flushed further, above the color of the alcohol that had tinged her cheeks. _y/n_ looked at _y/b/f_, and they had an expectant look on their face. _y/n_ couldn't help but giggle before saying, “Well he’s tall, and he has dark hair. It’s cut short and neat from what I can tell, though both times I’ve seen him it’s been a bit disheveled. He’s fit. I mean, I saw him working out, and the first time I saw him his clothes were pretty much hugging his body. And man what a body he has. Apart from his name, and his looks, I don’t have that much more to go off of. When I found his phone there was a picture of a little boy on his lock screen. For all I know he might be married or in a serious relationship. That doesn’t mean that I don’t find him attractive, but I’d never do something with a man who was committed.” If _y/n_ was being honest with herself, she’d probably never do anything with the man ever? What could she possibly say if she even saw him again? The world was small, but not that small. _y/n_ had relegated him to a small dreamlike crush to think back on every now and then. _y/n_ took another sip of her cocktail to try and hide her blush from her friend. The door to the small bar opened and her friend, who was facing the door, looked at the large group that was entering the establishment. The final person to enter the bar caught _y/n_’s friend's eye, and they said, “I think your man just came in here.” _y/n_ incredulously said, “Oh please, _y/b/f_, don’t tease me like that. It’s bad enough that I haven’t dated anyone seriously in years.” _y/b/f_ sobered slightly and said, “No _y/n_, I’m being serious. The last guy that just came in kind of matches the description you just gave.”

_y/n_ rolled her eyes but looked behind her anyway and low and behold, it was Aaron who had walked through the door. He was with a group of six people, and he was congenially chatting with an older man and a very pretty brunette-haired woman. _y/n_ hadn’t yet seen the man so at ease, but it looked good on him. It fit. The intense blush on _y/n_’s face told her best friend that she had pointed out the correct figure and they said, “Damn, He is hot. He must live in the neighborhood or something if you keep running into him unplanned like this.” _y/n_ nodded along in agreement, and _y/b/f_ continued, “You should give him your number or buy him a drink or something while he’s here. Who knows when the next time is that you’ll see him?” At the suggestion, _y/n_ shook her head in embarrassment and said, “I don’t know _y/b/f’s/n_. What if he’s not interested?” _y/b/f_ sighed and placed a hand on _y/n’s shoulder saying, “Oh come on _y/n_. Nothing gambled, nothing gained, and all that. After all, what’s the worst that can happen? He says no, or that he’s married and then you run into him at the supermarket and it’s awkward and you move past each other in the cheese aisle? Would you just give it a chance?” _y/n_ thought about the cost-benefit of actually making a move on Aaron and found that, as her friend had said, the cost side of the equation was pretty low. After a long silence filled by the ambient hum of the noise inside the bar, _y/n_ said, “Okay, fine. But I’m going to wait for him to have a drink first and make sure he’s not overly attached to anyone in his party, and that will give me time to sober up a bit. I might be taking a risk on my behalf, but I’m sure as hell not doing it drunk.” _y/n_ moved to the bar and got herself and her friend some water. While she was waiting, the pretty brunette and the older man whom Aaron had been speaking to when the group had walked in moved next to her at the bar. As _y/n_ overheard the woman saying, “I don’t know Rossi. He looks sad to me sometimes. Like when he thinks no one is looking? I’m kind of worried for him.” The older man, Rossi, nodded and said, “I see it too. But you see it, and I see it, but Hotch? I don’t know, and I don’t think he would really appreciate us cornering him in his office and asking him about his mental health, do you?” The woman laughed and said, “That’s a big fat no from me. But you know how he gets. I’d just like to see him happy.” As the woman finished the statement, _y/n_ got her water and gave the two she had been eavesdropping on a small smile before heading back to her own table.

About a half hour later _y/n_ felt more in control of her faculties. Aaron had had two drinks and _y/n_ subtly watched him. He didn’t seem to flirting or attached to any of the women or men he was with; he also wasn’t wearing a ring which was a good start. _y/n_ moved to the bathroom to make sure she looked alright before she made her move. _y/n_ reapplied some mascara and lipstick, but she knew she was just stalling at this point. She took a deep breath and whispered, “You can do this,” as she walked out of the ladies' room. Fortunately from _y/n_, Aaron was at the bar getting a drink for himself, Morgan, and JJ. _y/n_ idled up to him and said, “Hey Aaron, fancy seeing you here. Can I get you a drink?” Hotch turned and looked down at _y/n_. He was a bit tipsy given that he had two drinks in a pretty fast period. Hotch looked over the woman who kept appearing in his life and said, “Hey again _y/n_. We can’t seem to escape each other.” He looked over her face and saw the tells of attraction. He took a steadying breath as he realized that he was also attracted to _y/n_. He cleared his throat before saying “And you can buy me a drink if you like.” _y/n_ beamed. She had fully expected him to say no, and she asked, “What’ll it be?” Hotch thought for a moment and said, “Margarita on the rocks please.” When the bartender came over _y/n_ ordered two margaritas on the rocks. _y/n_ Aaron chatted while they waited for the drinks and at the of the night, in a moment of inebriation and a bit of teasing from Morgan, Aaron had given his number to _y/n_.

In a small moment of vulnerability for both of them, they had started texting on and off. Then they had had their first date and it had gone well. Then they had a second, and a third, and Aaron realized that _y/n_ was steady, calm, and kind. She wasn’t bothered by his extended absences, or him having to change their plans often because of a case. _y/n_ had slowly started meeting the important people in his life. It had been Morgan first. That happened kind of by accident. Then there was Rossi and Em, and Jack of course. By all means their relationship should be growing, and they would have their rocky moments, but happiness and care should be blooming, but for _y/n_ it simply wasn’t. A sadness was tugging at her soul like a millstone.

She was lying in bed; she had been all day. It was 11:00 a.m. The day outside looked pretty as the leaves fell and soft light came through the window. She had barely had the will to open the blinds. She had been crying a few minutes earlier but had managed to stop the flow of tears eventually. All _y/n_ had wanted to do over the past few days was sleep. Sleep and cry. She had managed to keep up her hygiene a bit because she had to look and dress professionally for work, but if that wasn’t the case, she knew she wouldn’t have done any of her normal care routines. Her hair was on its last legs with dry shampoo, and she could feel it getting greasy and gross on the pillow. A sound at the door caught _y/n_’s attention. ‘Aaron,’ she thought. She had forgotten that he was coming over today. She tried to find the will to get up, but she was embarrassed about her current state both mentally and physically. She turned her back to her bedroom door and sniffled. Maybe if she didn’t answer he would leave? There was a second of silence and then there was a ping of her phone. _y/n_ was sure that it was Aaron asking if she was okay. Then after that, there was a call and she could hear Aaron’s voice from outside saying, “_y/n_ are you in there? Are you okay?” There was worry in Aaron’s voice and she cringed because it was so silly to be sad right now. She thought it was too early in their relationship for him to see her so sad.

Aaron stood outside _y/n_’s door. There was a small panic rising in him. He had texted and called with no response from _y/n_. There was an eerie quiet outside her door. Normally at this time, she’d have her vinyl playing _y/f/a_ and making some coffee or reading. Hotch could picture it and it made him feel warm for a moment. But he didn’t feel that warmth now. He sensed that something was wrong, and he called out saying, “_y/n_ if you’re in there I’m coming in, okay.” Aaron punched in _y/n_’s seven-digit code, and the door clicked open. There was no one in the kitchen or living area and the lights were off. He checked the bathroom and it was also empty. Aaron called for _y/n_ saying, “_y/n_ are you here?” More softly he said, “God, please be here.” Hotch moved to the bedroom door and gave a hesitant knock saying her name again. There was a soft sound from inside and, fearing the worst, he opened the door. When his eyes fell on _y/n_'s form under a bundle of sheets and blankets, he let out a momentary sigh of relief. He stepped into the semi-dark room and approached the bed saying gently, “_y/n_, are you alright?” _y/n_ was faced away from him and said, “I’m sorry, Aaron. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be alright.” She spoke so softly that Aaron almost didn’t hear her. There was a sadness in her voice that pulled at his heart, and his concern for her only grew. Hotch sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her upper arm asking, “Honey, would you please look at me. I need to see you.” Hotch needed to know if she was alright. Sluggishly _y/n_ moved from her side and onto her stomach. She turned her face toward Aaron, and he assessed her. It was clear to him right away that she had been crying. Her tear streaks marked her face and her eyes were red and bloodshot. Aaron rested a hand on her cheek and said, “Sweetheart please tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been crying.” _y/n_ sniffled and said, “It’s nothing, it’s stupid.” At hearing _y/n_ say this, Aaron turned to face her more directly and sincerely said, “Whatever it is, it’s not stupid to me. I wanna know why you’re sad.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. There was silence as _y/n_ thought about what to say. Finally, she responded with, “I’m just sad, Aaron, and I have no right to be. I have everything I could want. I have a job I like. I’m finally stable in my life. I have you and Jack, and I’m still so fucking sad, over nothing.” While she spoke the tears started falling again.

Aaron listened and his heart ached for the pain _y/n_ was feeling. He brushed his hand down her cheek and then moved his thumb to wipe away the tears falling on her face. Tenderly he said, “Darling, I’m so sorry. You’re allowed to feel sad, even if there’s not a reason. And you’re allowed to be sad near me; it’s not embarrassing.” _y/n_ made a small sound as she pressed her forehead to his thigh. Aaron wondered if this was an attempt to hide from him. He looked down at her and asked, “May I hold you, _y/n_” _y/n_ sniffled but nodded yes to his request. Aaron leaned down and undid the laces of his loafer and kicked them both off with his other foot. He slipped his jacket off and moved to the other side of the bed. He pushed up the covers and lay down. When he was settled a bit, he pulled _y/n_ close to his body. When she was cradled close to him, he could feel her relax. Aaron ran a hand up and down her side as he asked, “Have you felt this way before? Have you spoken to your therapist about these feelings?”

_y/n_ felt better being close to Aaron. She responded to his question saying, “I have sometimes. When the weather starts changing and the days get shorter it can get really bad. I’ve been okay for the last year or so, but now it’s back. I haven’t told my therapist yet. I was going to in our next session. I had kind of hoped that it would just go away, but it hasn’t obviously.” Aaron hummed and moved his hand to her stomach, rubbing soft circles over the flesh there. Next, he asked, “And you’re still taking your medication?” At this, _y/n_ actually chuckled and said, “I have. I know what happens when I stop taking those and it’s not pretty.” Aaron felt a tiny bit better hearing her laugh and make a joke. The feeling in the room lightened slightly. The silence lingered for a few minutes and Aaron broke it saying, “Would you like to stay here for a little bit?” In his arms _y/n_ sighed and said, “Yes please.” Aaron shifted in the bed so his head was resting near her neck, and he circled his arms around her protectively. He planted a few kisses on the nape of _y/n_’s neck and then stilled his movements as she quickly fell asleep. Aaron looked her over. He was glad that she found comfort in him. His embrace. He would have to do more research on seasonal depression because although he knew it was a type of depression, he didn’t know much about it. The only person that he maybe knew had issues like that was Spencer, as his younger agent had once told him that he had worse thoughts during the winter. But for now, he would just be there to support _y/n_. Her health and happiness were paramount to him, and he was going to do everything he could to make her feel alright.

After an hour, Aaron and _y/n_ woke and Aaron thought of something. He asked, “When is the last time you’ve eaten, darling?” The moment it took for her to answer told Aaron what he needed to know. When _y/n_ replied, “It was yesterday at breakfast.” Aaron frowned at the answer and said, “Alright. Well, how about we get some food? We could make something here or I could order something for us?” _y/n_ thought and said, “There’s not much in the fridge. Maybe we could order some _y/c/f_ ?” Aaron replied and said, “Of course, I’ll place the order now.” Aaron pulled out his phone and opened Uber Eats to get the food. After this, they both moved to the living area. Aaron opened some blinds to let some light into the room but chose not to turn on any of the overhead lighting to create a calm environment. He turned on the TV and put on Seinfeld putting the volume on low to give them some ambient noise. _y/n_ sat on the couch and Aaron pulled her into his arms while they waited for the food to arrive. Aaron moved to stroke her hair, and as he started, she cringed slightly. He stopped his movements and asked, “What is it, _y/n_?”_y/n_ felt the shame rise in her again as she said, “It’s dirty. My hair. I haven’t washed it in three days.” Aaron nodded and said, “It’s okay, _y/n. I don’t mind.” _y/n_ softly said, “Okay.” She believed him and rested her head against his chest again. Aaron started gently combing through her hair with his hands. _y/n_ listened to the steady thumping of his heart near her ear, and her hands found a place on his stomach. When he sat, Aaron had a little tummy that hid the muscles of his torso. It was actually one of the favorite parts of his body. They hadn’t been undressed in front of the other yet, but when they were, she looked forward to paying that area extra attention. _y/n_ knew that just being with Aaron wasn’t going to fix her mental health problems. She would have to face the emotions and it might hurt, but it was worth it. For now, Aaron was a balm and a light, and she looked forward to moving forward with him in life. She knew that with Aaron by her side, better days were coming. That the sun would shine a bit brighter than it had before.

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hanasnx · 1 year

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Imma jus keep flooding your ask box bec that's just how I am🏃🏾‍♀️ but this tiktok has me thinking.... imagine an au where anakin is a mandalorian...??? Like hear me out on that😮‍💨😩

Love the og mando but it can always be better with my fave Skywalker </3

link

hello vana! can you pls tell me your secret as to how your asks live rent free in my head???? you are welcome to flood my inbox anytime

im not joking. this one and the last one ive thought of periodically since i read them

i found this post a bit ago of mando!anakin <3 thought youd like it: mandalorian fanart link

☥ i have a huge suit and mask kink if you cant tell already im a mess over dudes in full head to toe gear bonus points if theyre stoic and only speak when absolutely necessary. fucking delicious i eat it up everytime.

☥ anakin’s canon personality kinda fits with that of mando from the show. gravely serious, quiet and calculative in strategic situations, no patience for nonsense, acquires a child and- after fighting the decision- grows attached to it, fierce loyalty to his family.

☥ mando’s armor is so fucking hot oh my fucking god i want him to do me with the helmet on and then imagining anakin underneath it all>???? i feel faint.

☥ imagine him being a bounty hunter eeeeeee

☥ like you two come across each other like you were sitting at the bar and he comes up to talk to the bartender if she’s seen a certain face around. you love the sound of his voice omffmggm, you can tell theres a slight mod to it and it just adds to the rasp. the bartender asks him to wait a second while she goes to the back. so you turn on the charm,

“bounty hunter?”

he pivots his head, marginally. and gives a single slow nod. you smile at him, down your drink.

“big fan of bounty hunters, one time a hunter saved my sister. would love to buy you a drink.”

“can’t. working.”

“afterwards? we both know you’re gonna catch that sleazebag you’re tracking. you look like the type that doesn’t stop til he gets what he wants, right?”

oh, how right you were.

he doesn’t say anything, so you assume it’s not a no. “mandalorian armor… would love to know what you look like under it all.” generously, you eyes travel him from boots to helmet.

“how do you know i’m not one of those guys that’s vowed to keep the helmet on?”

finally, a sentence. you must’ve caught his attention. “i wouldn’t mind that.” your ambiguous flirt left room to his imagination. having implied that it didn’t matter if he kept the helmet on, just as long as you got to see his cock pistoning into you. that was a little too forward for this kind of interaction.

he bows his head, and you envision the way he must be looking at you through his brows. either intrigued or appalled. the guessing game thrills you to say the least.

you point out his mark to him, behind the two of you, sucking on the neck of a twi’lek. “you owe me, hunter.” it was a harmless joke.

the twinkling of a couple credits sounds against the bar counter.

“for your next drink.” he answers your questioning glance.

☥ maybe by making your attraction to him apparent enough, he says fuck it, and after catching and collecting his bounty that very night, he comes back to the bar to see if you’re still there.

☥ maybe you somehow convince him to do you in the dark alley behind the disreputable bar. to your delight, he let you take off his helmet so he could fuck your mouth with his tongue while he slipped his cock out of the confines of his armor and fuck you for real. it’s not like his line of work allows for any time for himself, and the warmth of a willing woman is few and far in between. of course he melts into you once you say the right things. falls for how desperate and noisy your pussy is, slurping him up. sinking into your wet heat and panting into each others mouths.

☥ appearances didn’t matter to you much, and you were buzzed enough to not care. however, imagine your pleasant surprise to see someone so fucking pretty hiding underneath the mask.

☥ imagine yall start a fun little fwb relationship after this so he can fuck all his frustrations out using you <3

#kentovana #thanks for the msg!!#indy shoots the shit #anakin skywalker imagine #mando!anakin #anakin #anakin skywalker smut #reader insert #anakin skywalker x reader #x f!reader #au!anakin skywalker #x y/n

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decolonize-the-left · 1 year

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What can I do? Be an active ally

How can I help? Be an active ally

Be an active ally

Being an active ally:

Men, the patriarchy affects you too. Yeah and negatively. Toxic masculinity, having to do things you don't want to cuz "you're a man," not being able to do the things you Do want to for the same reason, having to be tough and be the socially chosen one to die checking something out at night, repressing 99% of your emotions, also the misogynistic mommy issues that a patriarchy develops is fucking wild, constantly forcing you to dehumanize yourself & feelings for the idea of what a man should be.

All that is WACK. Things shouldnt be like that. I agree. Just understand some of us are struggling just for our right to exist right now, literally. We'd love to help you, we're just...preoccupied. Imagine how much faster this would all be over with if you regularly came to support our protests and voted in solidarity with the rest of us, though. How much more we could do all together with less divided, more united focus.

Also after some lengthy discussion myself and others found white people too suffer from white supremacy. White supremacy isn't just a Black People Problem™. You know that hole where you feel like culture should be? Like everyone else has dances and community and beliefs and culture but you have what you can buy at the store or sign up for at the Y? Assimilation into whiteness. Your ancestors' culture was left behind to blend into American Society. Which is... Capitalism. That's what it feels like as a native too. Except my ancestors didn't have a choice. Be a more active ally in dismantling whiteness and white supremacy. Support the movements, goals, and voices of BIPOC. It'd benefit all of us, like on an emotional-psychological level to be rid of it. Which yeah, helps deconstruct racism as a whole.

Remember you're an ally or becoming an ally today but marginalized communities as a whole have fought against systematic injustice since Columbus started it. Big picture: allowing this to continue has cost lives, culture, and history for everyone across generations and borders. Yeah, some people are gonna be more upset than others but it's Nobody's place to regulate how ppl to react to 500+ years of systematic abuse

Be critical in your allyship & think big picture; are you really going to stop supporting people trying to save Black and queer lives, challenging the patriarchy and white supremacy, trying get get rights and protections codified...over some property damage? Property damages are victimless and easily reparable, but conditional allyship has irreparable and deadly costs.

Look into the activist and leftist groups in your area

Listen when people tell you something is not okay or divisive (like justifying cultural appropriation or useless discourse)

Look into community/mutual orgs in your area (ex: Food Not Bombs, queer groups, and food kitchens)

Join or support them if you can. Create one in some cases if you're able. Go to protests, spend a few days helping, help organize, offer what you can (usually a really loud speaker tbh)

Join a union, pleeease.

I can't stress enough to listen to marginalized communities. The marginalized of the marginalized, even. When you vote, when a bill gets passed, when we discuss protests, and talk about actions to take. ALWAYS consider the voices that will MOST and directly be impacted by it. --- Ex: increased policing/police budgets, slashed LGBT resources, no access to abortion... Listen to the people it will hurt Not just the people it will benefit.

Ignoring these voices is a privilege and one afforded to you by a white supremacist society that inherently seeks to silent and suppress marginalized voices. White supremacists are the ones who decided we shouldn't get a voice in the first place. Your comfort is bought. Be an ally by finding comfort elsewhere, uplift us instead of white comfort supremacy.

Discard your reliance on whiteness and it's privileges all together. If absolutely any of us are to get anywhere we all need to be equal and treated equal, which means you need to be okay with being treated like us.

Be there. Show up.

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f0xgl0v3 · 27 days

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SoN Re-imagining Story snippet

This is that one strategizing scene I added to introduce some characters; the first draft of it specifically, it has been briefly skimmed and is of course a first draft. It’s really long, sorry dudes-

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It'd been a few weeks maybe? It didn't matter much anyways, Percy still hadn't gotten the best grips on Camp Jupiter and the routine, Hazel and Frank kept him away from trouble well enough and Dakota was as lenient of a Centurion as possible. It's been... rough, between drilling and the marches freetime was nothing more than a passing thought or joke; a jab to 'wait until after dinner' from more senior legionnaires who could only have gotten used to the constant hustle and bustle of Camp life.

"Wait- I thought Dakota said something about staying loose?" Percy asked, Riptide spinned idly in his hand while the three lazed about in the clearing. Perks of the Centurions taking half the day off for the Cohorts Legion-wide to plan for the War games and their Optiones deciding to also just give the legionnaires the day off too. Frank took refuge under the shade of a tree; the old strategy handbook looked small and paper-thin from wear as he marked down more notes into the margins. Hazel shook her head a little, moving over to stand shoulder to shoulder with him,

"No, you have to be really close next to each other during combat so you shouldn't be 'loose'. I mean maybe keep your shoulders relaxed?" She tried to off the advice, and urged the two to go back into practicing some drills for another half hour; even Frank joined in for the extra practice, even if it didn't really apply to him much as an archer.

The three were only interrupted by a voice shouting out at them, maybe it was something like 'Hey guys!' but it was for the most part cut off by the sound of it's speaker coughing on his own kool-aid. Dakota came running up, flask in hand and cap halfway unscrewed,

"Hey, Hey! We need some second opinions and you guys are the closest so hurry up before Hank and Sylvia decide for us," He didn't really give any of the three time to respond except for Frank's small muttered "What?" before they were following after their Centurion back to the Meeting place of choice (Bombillo's). It's not like they had much of a choice anyways; even if Perc would've preferred telling Dakota to find some legionnaires who were more experienced. But regardless the three made their way to the Fabrica strip, passing Legionnaires cherishing their moments off. Playing games, flitting in and out of the few shops in Camp Jupiter; the Forge, bookshop, Bombillo's and an empty shop that hadn't been inhabited for years and wouldn't be since the Senate was; in Mercury's words, 'Constantly arguing over what they'd actually do with it'. Not that Percy liked or trusted Mercury all that much, she also said that place had been an old hair salon in the 80's and 90's so who really knew? Dakota nicely enough held the door open for the three of them.

The smell of ambrosia hit Percy's nose immediately; the sweet scent of fresh brownies. Five other legionnaires sat huddled around a table with a rough drawing of what the Field of Mars looked like at the moment and the proposed interior layout of the Fort. Gwen; who Percy didn't talk with much, she always dealt with the senior Legionnaires in the Fifth Cohort, popped her blonde head up from the mass; with the rest following suit. A boy with scruffy auburn hair and growing sideburns that couldn't have been legion approved frowned and scoffed a little,

"Dakota couldn't you have found some people more experienced? Not three probatios?" The kid snapped, *Exactly what I'm saying*, though Percy kept the thought to himself. Hazel stood there silently, like she was going to mouth off but barely stopped herself; lest she got the three of them in trouble again. Gwen rolled her eyes and put her hand on the Centurion's shoulder in a placating matter,

"Calm down Hank, it's not that serious. They'll have good things to say, I mean they have to at least know *something*." Gwen gave them all; including Dakota a 'you better know something'. It seemed like a common enough stare that any legionnaire knew; plenty of them gave off that energy during drills or when they were paired with Percy. He nodded a little and walked over to the table, Hazel and Frank staying a little bit back still; everyone seemed to respect Percy a bit more here anyways. Gwen seemed satisfied enough and glanced over, something about her reminded him off his dream girl; Annabeth. Maybe it was that similar look in her brown eyes while Dakota stood next to her,

"Hey, we don't bite.. well, I don't at least," She joked a bit, a few of the Centurions chuckling along and it got a half snort from Frank. Gwen continued with some satisfaction, "You guys probably haven't been here long enough to know all of us- or, Hazel I know you do but just for the sake of it. I'm Gwendolyn, or Gwen for short, Daughter of Mithras. That guy with the beard is Hank-" "It's not a *beard*!" "-Whatever. Uh, that's Sylvia, Leila, and Tanner."

Hank still looked faux-upset over the beard comment, brushing down his sideburns with his hands while Sylvia; his Co-Centurion gave a joking push. Leila was calm enough, wheat-blonde and sitting in her chair sipping on the culprit to the Ambrosia smell next to the dark-haired kid identified as Tanner. Percy gave a flimsy wave while Dakota tried to reel the conversation back in.

"Uh okay- cool, we have introductions but important stuff at hand. We still haven't picked formations and whose getting Hannibal." Everyone shifted a little, Hank and Leila straightened up, while even Tanner looked a bit more interested; even desperate to have everything sorted out. Dakota continued. It was... boring, to say the absolute least. Mostly just everyone arguing over who's doing what and various rock paper scissors games, bringing the legionnaires into it to pick sides. It was a bit hard- knowing if you didn't agree with your Centurion's opinion they could easily punish you for it. Though with some hesitation things might have finally been settled? Percy didn't exactly know but what he did fully know is that he wanted to be as close to the siege as possible, it almost felt like instinct in a funny way. Frank sublty moved his little scribbled notes over to Dakota to read; knowing their Centurion already let the hour and a half of planning slip his mind.

"So, we're all in agreement on this, we're going in first with the siege towers; the 3rd will come in around the sides to see if we can make any breaks that way and the fourth get's Hannibal when we're in-" Dakota was jabbed in the ribs by Sylvia, who over the time Percy had come to the knowledge that she was a child of Fortuna; the Roman Goddess of luck. Percy had to stop himself from calling her a daughter of Tyche several times, the Legion never liked hearing about the Greek names for Gods. Dakota rolled his eyes and moved the fake map to knock on the hardwood table, taking a drink of his kool aid, "There, we won't be jinxed. Gods Sylvia."

After seeming marginally satisfied with the half-hearted knock Sylvia nodded a bit. The Centurions rushed all of the normal legionnaires out for the Centurion clean-up Bombillo's after they moved several tables to fit their needs. Unfortunately it was also getting close to closing time of most of the shops so the legionnaires were getting their last minute.. Well, everythings settled and figured it out. Percy got pretty lost in the crowd immediately, only to be pulled out and away from the crowd by his upper arm into the much more deserted backroads that led to the barracks. It took Percy a minute to get his grips with what was happening and to tug his arm free whipping around to see his... somewhat halfway capturer, his crowd surge savior? It was.. the kid who had been staring him down when the legion welcomed him in. Those bacteria-pond algae colored eyes and very poorly healed broken nose was enough of a giveaway. The kid scratched at some of the scruff under his chin, a Pilum in hand; stamped proudly with the 1st cohort branding. Percy quickly jumped to asking,

"Are you from the First Cohort? What are you doing like.. not up there or on the main road then?" It was maybe not the most important question at the time. His new not-buddy gave a dry laugh, it didn't sound as... happy as it probably should've. He replied,

"Ah, nah. I'm Bryce, Bryce Lawerence. This is just an old family good luck charm, I'm actually in the 2nd. But that's not why I needed to talk to you." Bryce replied, he said the words 'Second' and 'old good luck charm' with some amount of bitterness. Like it was someone else's fault he wasn't in (From what Percy had heard of) the 'best cohort'. Bryce gave a smile that was probably meant to be welcoming and Percy noticed the braces that he had; and the same pond scummy green tone as the fun bracket rubber band color. He replied,

"The 2nd Cohort, that's pretty good right?" Percy asked, brows furrowing. It didn't sound really bad, it was the second best cohort anyways right? Bryce scoffed a little and began walking on the paths and Percy trailed behind,

"Not really; just for kids who had good letters and mediocre skills or no letters and bad skills. The scraps left behind from the First Cohort." Bryce huffed. Holding the Pilum close to him, the same type of way a kid might've held a stuffed animal or blanket. Percy didn't really get it, Bryce didn't seem like someone devoid of any skills; he was a big dude after all. In most senses of the word, tall, chubby, and muscular, even if his hair (That was in a grown-out bob type look). Bryce continued on,

"Anyway, that doesn't really matter. I wanted to talk to you, and say that the whole water thing you did on your first day was real cool. The whole, using the Tiber to rip those monsters to shreds was good. More legionnaires have to get off their high horses and realize powers are more useful and should be properly utilized." Bryce spoke. It felt.. uneasy, like he was a spring held tight ready to lunge. It just felt... off, if that made any sense. Percy nodded a little again, while Bryce graciously slowed to walk next to Percy and the Son of Neptune replied,

"Oh, uh. Thanks dude, a lot of people here didn't really appreciate the show. Do you.. like, know any of your powers?" Percy asked, turning his head a bit to look at Bryce. Who gave a grin and nodded a little. It was different, most legionnaires Percy had the off chance to talk with never really liked acknowledging their powers and didn't explore them much; unless it would've been good for the legion of course (Healing, sharing of strength, being able to relieve the mind, stuff like that). But Bryce seemed different, like he knew his power and how much more dangerous and that fact made him proud.

"Oh yeah, I don't have much. Legacies never tend to inherit too much, of course it only gets weirder once we mix up godly blood between parents. But I've still trained up my powers." He didn't seem like he was about to elaborate on what those powers entailed, so Percy felt the awkward air grow thicker around them as the conversation slowed. Bryce frowned a little and tried to pick it back up,

"Yeah- I came over to say. Use the powers during the war games, your cohort and the others aren't gonna win anyway. At least try and make sure you all put up more of a fight. Just.. think on it for the night." Bryce replied, with those words slipping off behind a building. Percy didn't bother to follow the strange, slightly off-putting 2nd Cohort legionnaire. It wasn't like the other interaction's he's had. It wasn't like Hazel telling him that bad things happen in the legion to those that mess around with their powers. Not like Frank fiddling with his bow and trying not to look too upset as a senior archer dug into him a bit. Not even the three at the helm of the First Cohort; Mercury, Octavian, and Michael Kahale. Maybe Mercury was similar-? If not just much more overt in any sinister intentions she had compared to Bryce. Percy shambled back to the Fifth Cohort's second barrack to hopefully re-unite with his Conterbanum or find someone he knew.

——————————————————————————

I’m very proud of myself for getting through this scene (which would be a chapter methinks-) though the beginning and the actual Centurion part of the scene is somewhat clunky, I was getting into the writing groove and those really aren’t my favorite parts of the scene. Though all in all I think the transitions between settings, the uh PoV and probably dialogue in the first part could use some help, but that’s what drafts are for!

#hehe :3 #son re-imagined #Son of Neptune re-imagined #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #hoo #camp jupiter #hoo dakota #hoo Gwen #hoo percy #hoo bryce #bryce lawerence #uhhh #I just wanted an excuse to write Bryce Lawerence I’ll be honest guys-#okay bye

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natlacentral · 2 months

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Daniel Dae Kim on that pivotal fight scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender: “There was guilt, there was conflict, there was pain”

Over the last 30 years, Daniel Dae Kim has been a recurring presence on our big and small screens alike, from the culture-shifting Lost to the Oscar-winning Crash. He's played dads (wholesome) and daddies (less wholesome), and sometimes those roles have converged, as in Netflix's live-action reboot of the beloved cartoon Avatar: The Last Airbender – a series about a fantasy kingdom separated into four elemental nations that have been ravaged by war – where he takes on the villainous Fire Lord Ozai.

“Very often in my career, I've played good guys,” Kim tells GQ over video call from Seoul. Not so much in Avatar – Ozai is about as far away from a good guy as you can get. He’s callous and deranged, with domineering sheets of metal and leather armour, and a long pointed beard that’s only marginally less sharp than his cheekbones. He's the Big Bad of the series (albeit one that's so ripped it's caused some people to question their allegiance to the show's hero).

As the king, he looms over the Fire Nation, which has imperialist ambitions to rule the rest of the kingdom, as well as his own children, Zuko (Dallas Liu) and Azula (Elizabeth Yu), who he pits against each other and hardens with physical and psychological punishment. He's not exactly in the running for Father of the Year. “I like to think that he's trying in his own way to guide his children,” he says. “He doesn't necessarily listen very well to his kids, but he is trying to solidify his legacy and make this family a dynasty.”

Here, Daniel Dae Kim talks to GQ about the challenges of adapting a much-loved property, his shirtless fight scene and the likelihood of a season 2 of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

GQ: Mark Hamill voiced Ozai in the cartoon. Have you had a chance to meet him?

Daniel Dae Kim: We've never met but we actually had a nice little Instagram exchange because he saw an interview answer that I gave regarding him. He saw a clip and said thank you, so I responded and said it was all true. I have a lot of respect for him, not just as Luke Skywalker, of course, but he's one of our greatest voice actors.

One of the most pivotal scenes in the series is the fight Ozai has with his son Zuko where he gives him his facial scar and then later banishes him. What preparation went into that scene?

The physical preparation was intense. In the animated series, he's shirtless, so I thought ‘Uh oh’. I wasn't sure how authentic they wanted to be, and sure enough, the showrunner was like, 'Oh, yeah, we're gonna do that'. So I started to work out and I started to diet. I'm not immune to vanity, so I thought, well, at least I should try and look pretty good. But I did not want to look like someone who was unreasonably fit, if that makes sense. He's not meant to be a WWE wrestler, he's meant to be someone who has great skill and power that comes from his [fire] bending. You might find this disingenuous, but hand on my heart it's true – some actors enjoy the vanity of being shirtless and welcome it and I've worked with those actors. I am not [one of them]. If that's my last shirtless scene, I won't be sad.

That scene is probably the most vulnerable we see Ozai, where he maybe feels bad about what he's doing to his son. Is that how you interpreted it?

I was trying to add in a little nuance there so that it wasn't just full-on hatred, anger and frustration. There was guilt, there was conflict, there was pain. That's what I was trying to communicate.

What are the challenges of performing fights that have been adapted from a cartoon?

Our stunt team did a great job in helping us imagine what the supernatural elements of the fight would be. We have the physical hand-to-hand combat, but then with the addition of the firebending and the special effects, it required a certain specificity and suspension of disbelief on our parts. [Imagining] a huge beam of fire going 30 feet across and believing the effect that it would have. I give a lot of credit to the stunt team for being so specific about it and saying 'If you want to create this kind of blast, it's this kind of a movement’. That imagination became part of the choreography.

In the original cartoon, Ozai is shrouded in secrecy until he's finally revealed. But in this, you're shown almost immediately. Why was that a necessary change when bringing it to live-action?

I think it was a dramaturgical function. There was an effort made to deepen all of the primary characters earlier on. If you look at Sokka's story and Katara's story, certain elements got pushed up. I think the reason they pushed up my story was in service of Zuko because we wanted to feel what his motivations were and why he was relentlessly chasing Aang. I personally applaud the decision, because I think you care so much more about the primary four than you would otherwise. It's the right decision.

In the finale, we see Ozai has even more deranged plans for world domination. Everything about him is about legacy. What did you try and tap into there?

I kept thinking, like, what happened to Ozai when he was a child that he would think that this is the way to show your kid his destiny? I did look at his line to succession… the fact that he is a second child, and how that's not the natural lineage for a king. So what kind of ambition does it take to supersede the rightful heir to the throne? There's that phrase that I think of – ‘hurt people hurt people’ – and I wonder ‘What was Ozai’s trauma as a child?’ because he's clearly passing it down.

The finale massively sets up a season 2 with a cliffhanger. In the cartoon, Ozai descends further into madness. If season 2 happens, is that something you'd look forward to exploring?

A descent into madness sounds like juicy territory for an actor, and it's not something I've explored before on screen. Should we be lucky enough to get a season 2, I look forward to those conversations. Nothing is inevitable in this business and in this industry climate, but there seems to be a lot of excitement about it.

#natla #atla #netflix avatar #netflix atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar netflix #atla netflix #daniel dae kim #interview #gq

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mxacegrey · 2 years

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Speak Now

@imagining-in-the-margins

Prompt: “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Summary: Seven words to make or break a relationship

Warnings: angst & references to nightmares

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You sat in the front row, eyes glossy, watching Spencer smile at his bride, Maeve, with such glee. A hand clasping your shoulder had you turn your head to the side. Your eyes looked at the hand, trailing upwards to Rossi’s face.

“You okay, kiddo?” He whispered, smiling sadly.

“Yeah.” You whisper back. You turned your head back to Spencer.

“I object!” You suddenly hear a voice yell. The audience gasped in shock as the man who had spoke stood up. He had sat in your exact seat, with your exact facial expression, only on the bride’s side. “Y/N. I know you object too.”

“Charles!” Maeve whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N. What is he talking about?” Spencer asked, looking directly at you. His eyes glared at you, icy, as if he was disgusted by what he heard.

“I love you, Maeve. I have always loved you!” Charles confessed, walking up to her.

“I...” You stuttered under Spencer’s gaze before taking a deep breath. “I love you, Spencer.”

“Really?! Now?! You’re doing this now?!” Spencer shouted. “I’m happy! I am finally happy and you just had to mess things up, didn’t you?! You always do this! Why- Why would you do this?!”

“I...” You trailed off before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“No! You... You are pathetic and I’ll never love you! You disgust me.” Spencer snapped as he leaned towards you.

*****

They always show in films when you wake from a nightmare, you jump upright, breathing heavily. That’s a lie. Your eyes opened slowly as if begging for the nightmare to be fake, that Spencer’s voice wasn’t spitting venom at you. You listened for the sound of cars driving past and the sound of sirens. Tears building in your eyes, you reached out for your phone.

06/08 5:34 AM

Spencer’s wedding day. You sat up in your bed, tears streaming down your face. You sat there for what felt like minutes, trying to control your breathing when there was a knock at your door. A head popped in and the man it belonged to was a certain Spencer Reid.

Now Spencer and you have known each other for years. You met aged 7 and you were his best friend, even if you weren’t a child genius like he was. He graduated high school at 12 but you did at 14. While he went through 3 PHDs, you went through law school and were now one of the best criminal lawyers around. You had kept touch through everything, you slowly falling in love with your best friend. One day, (1 year, 3 months, 6 days, 18 hours and 23- 24 seconds ago) Spencer had come home to your shared apartment with a massive grin on his face.

“You good, Spence?” You had asked, looking up from some cases.

“...I got a date with Maeve.” Spencer grinned, face lighting up like it hadn’t in ages. You smiled in response (I mean of course you did, you were happy he was happy even if it wasn’t with you).

After a number of dates and phone calls and visits, Spencer had proposed. He had walked into your office at work one day, asking for ideas and like a good friend, you did. (Some nights, you wished you hadn’t. That maybe something would happen to break the two up. But as soon as those thoughts appeared, you snapped out of it because he was your everything and his happiness meant so much more to you.) It was a choice when Spencer asked you to be his best person and you chose to stay. Chose to have your heart stamped over but see him happy than see him not.

****

“Good afternoon. Maeve, Spencer and I would like to welcome everyone on this gorgeous day. It's because of all of you—because of this strong community— Spencer and Maeve's relationship has strengthened and grown and led them to this very moment. Thank you for being here, now let's begin.” The officiant said, after Maeve had walked down the aisle with her bridesmaids.

“First we have a reading of ‘The White Rose’, which was written by John Boyle O’Reilly.” The officiant continued,

“The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on the lips.”

You listened from your front row seat, watching Spencer look at the love of his life, Maeve, with such glee and adoration. You glanced to the side to see Charles in your exact seat, with your exact facial expression only on the bride’s side.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #gender neutral reader #angst #weddings #BAU Team #bau team x reader #mentioningmargins

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eyesxxyou · 5 months

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"You'll never forget me right? You'll never leave me?"

"Of course not!"

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

I was never good at keeping promises. I've always regretted that.

I was a creative little kid, I always had a wild imagination. And like every other creative little kid, I had an imaginary friend. I wish I remembered his name. We were the best of friends, I was a very lonely kid. People would tell me to stop talking to myself, but I was just talking to him. It upset me at the time, but I got over it.

One day I grew up. I stopped believing in magic, I stopped doodling on the margins of my paper, and I stopped believing in my imaginary friend.

But he didn't go away. He stuck by my side. He contorted into a dark and terrible creature. He made sure no one wanted to be around me.

I started to change as well. I was paranoid and almost scary. I would scream at my classmates, I couldn't make friends. Everything about me felt wrong. It was like I was haunted by something.

And I was.

It was him. He was haunting me, everywhere I went. I would see things on the walls, written in blood. I couldn't prove where it came from, but when I would get up to look at it, my dizziness would prove it's my own.

As afraid as I was, I felt bad for the thing. Sure, the creature took my blood to write to me, but he wrote solemn letters. They were pleas. They were notes of 'come back to me' and 'I miss you.' They were 'why did you lie to me?' and 'be my friend.'

It took me a long time to realize what I had done. The reminder came to me when I went back to my parent's house. They showed me my old drawings and left, but something happened.

I saw one particular drawing of me with my imaginary friend, then I tripped. I suddenly felt hands all over, as if something had caught me, but I was alone. I fainted soon after.

When I woke up, all I could sense was the voice of a child saying, "You promise?" That's when I knew.

I broke down, overwhelmed with guilt. I cried for my first friend, my only friend. I wailed for how alone and abandoned he must have been this whole time.

"I'm so sorry, I remember now. I remember you," I gasped out, between tears.

I felt warm, like I was being embraced. I just cried, unable to control my sorrow as I shouted my apologies. He rubbed my back as he mumbled his acceptance.

I couldn't comprehend why he would forgive me, but I didn't want him to let me go. I thought of how my life had gone since I forgot him. I needed him.

I needed him, and he needed me. We were meant to be together, it didn't matter I was the only one who could see him.

We sat together for hours after that. We were mostly silent, the only noise being his gentle humming and my cries.

My parents were confused when they got back home. The room was destroyed and I looked like a mess. My eyes were blood red and my hair tangled and torn.

I wasn't sure what to say to them, so I said nothing at all, retreating to the darkness of my childhood room.

My imaginary friend rejoiced in the memory of our shared space. When I was here, I still loved him. It's only natural that we reunite in this place.

Despite my sorrow, I couldn't help but smile. I felt truly happy with him by my side. It was like my childhood joy came flushing back at the revelation that I had someone.

I felt so alone all my life, but I didn't have to be. I had my person, I had my imaginary friend.

And I would never need anything else.

-💚

hope you enjoy!

I DID ENJOY THIS LOOKS GREAT!

#{eye's inbox}#{👁️ inbox}#💚 anon

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codename-mom · 2 months

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Waterproof

Summary: All the team wheels up for a new case, except Hotch who has to take his leaves. But the team needs his advice about a law point and tries to join him on a phone. The conversation will be... special

Characters: BAU team + Jack

Contents: fluff! /o/

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The whole team had gathered in the meeting room of the police station where the BAU had been dispatched. The local police had found themselves baffled by a sudden spate of murders in their jurisdiction, so the commissioner had called in the FBI to help identify the perpetrator of these sordid crimes. The profilers took off promptly and began their inquiry as usual. Or almost since they weren't all there. The HR department had forced Hotch to use up some of the leave he'd been piling up for months without ever touching it, so the manager was missing. Which wasn't really a problem in itself, since the group knew how to function without him, the task of coordination falling to Morgan, who had taken over during Foyet's hunt.

Except that a legal point now stood in the way, and the point of view of the ex-prosecutor was essential for the proper management of the case. Crowded around the room's telephone, the federal agents listened impatiently to the dial tone. They were anxious to get his opinion so they could continue their investigations. But was he even available?

“Hello?” came a deep voice they immediately identified.

“Hello Hotch, said Derek, speaking before the others. So…

“DAAAAD!”

They all winced in unison; their eardrums shattered by the high-pitched little voice that had just screamed into the handset. A strange reverberation could be heard at the other end of the line.

“Don't shout, Jack, I'm right there,” his sire's voice calmly retorted.

“Is Jack with you?” Emily frowned, intrigued.

“Yes, he’s taking his bath, so I stay with him.”

Everyone instantly pictured the giant sitting on the bathroom floor, watching over his offspring as he frolicked in the water.

“Who's that?" asked the little boy, curious.

JJ smiled, recognizing the typical behavior of children who abandon all their activities the half-second they see their parents on the phone.

“It’s the team, they’re on a case.”

“Oh! Can I say hi to them?” he demanded with a burst of enthusiasm.

The toddler adored the men and women who worked under his father, whom he considered members of his family, just like his Aunt Jessica or Grandma Ada. Interacting with them always made him extremely happy.

“Yes. Hold on, I'll put you on speaker, Aaron declared before pressing a button. Now, go on.”

“HELLO!” he exclaimed, startling the ex-policeman standing closest to the sound source.

Altogether, with smiles on their faces, the investigators replied:

“Hello, Jack! Hi, buddy! Hello, my sugar paste bear! Hey, kiddo!”

“And I'm taking you off speakerphone because I imagine you're calling to talk about the case in progress,” resumed the head of the agency, whose voice suddenly became clearer.

“You've got it all figured out,” Dave responded, amused by the rambling conversation.

In the background, we could still hear lapping noises and lively onomatopoeia.

“Okay. Give me a quick report and then ask me your question.”

“So, that's it, began Morgan, indifferent to this unusual commotion; the Delaware police called us because this is the third time they've found a body that…”

“Dad! interrupted the youngster, unaware of the stakes in the discussion his father was trying to maintain. Can you shampoo my hair?”

Derek rolled his eyes, annoyed; the others were hilarious, enlivened by this unexpected interlude.

“You already got one yesterday. You don’t need one every day, you know.”

“But I want you to mix my head.”

“What...? Hiccupped the titan before he got what he was talking about. Oh, okay. Hold on, because I need both hands. A moment.”

They then heard some rubbing against the microphone – he must have been trying to wedge the cell phone between his ear and his shoulder – and then his voice resurfaced, a little distorted.

“Turn around. That’s it. Go on.”

As he had spoken all these words in the same tone, Morgan was slow to realize that the last part was addressed to them.

“… Uh… So, I was saying that this is the third time they've found a body, of a homeless person, who…”

“It's too good!” Jack commented blissfully.

JJ and Emily held back their laughter at their colleague's discomfited expression.

“Looks like it. Well, finish rinsing and then you’ll go out. You’re getting cold.”

“No, it's not true!” objected the bather, obviously pounding his fists in the water.

“Your lips are blue, pointed out the seasoned negotiator. Come on, the sooner you get out, the sooner you can watch a movie.”

“CARS!”

“If… if you want.”

Hotch didn't sound like someone delighted to see the production in question. The other parent on the team suspected that the kid had been fixated on this Pixar Studios work for weeks – or longer – and that it must have been playing on a loop every night since the day his descendant first laid eyes on it. Having herself endured a hundred viewings of Winnie-the-Pooh, she could understand his reluctance to see it for the umpteenth time.

“I want!” shouted vigorously Jack.

“Well, rinse then.”

“Can… can I start again?” dared Derek, taken aback by the turn of this phone call.

“Yes, sorry, Morgan. Go on.”

“All the victims, then, live on the streets, and all the injuries recorded on their bodies seem to have been caused by...”

“Wait, cut in his superior, I've got to help Jack out of the tub and dry him off. I’ll be right back.”

He must have put his phone down somewhere nearby because his subordinates could hear what was going on without having to strain their ears too much. The Chicago native sat on a nearby chair, scowling. Rossi patted him on the shoulder to offer some semblance of compassion, but he wore the same playful smile as the other three. Penelope, who was videoconferencing with them, was ecstatic.

“Let’s go! We raise our arms. And then we rub, rub, rub.”

“Rub, rub, rub,” repeated the boy in the same tone.

“Okay. Go get your pajama and bring it here.”

Footsteps scurried away.

“I’m there, go.”

“I've sent you the autopsy report to give you an idea of the problem,” announced the analyst, who nevertheless tried to simplify things.

“Well, hold on, I look at it.”

“Here, Dad! Here is the pajama!”

Morgan, arms folded, tilted his head on the back of his seat with a grunt of exasperation. The girls had to concentrate harder than ever to hold back their hilarity.

“… Are you aware that this top and this bottom don’t fit together?”

“Yes, but I wanted these two,” replied the little boy with a certain determination.

“Okay, abdicated his progenitor with a smile in his voice. Take off your robe, we'll put on the pants first. One leg first. Here. And the second one. Perfect. Hands up now.”

“Like the bad guys,” laughed the kid.

“That’s it, like the bad guys. Watch your ears. One arm after the other. Great! You’re almost all set. Go get your slippers.”

Again, they heard someone leaving in a hurry.

“What kind of pajamas did he wear?” inquired Spencer, very attentive to this singular intrusion into the agency manager's daily life.

“Reid!” exploded Derek, outraged to realize that he was finally the only one who cared about the mission's progress.

“What?” croaked the youngest member of the unit innocently.

“He has a Spiderman top and a bottom with lots of dinosaurs.”

“Isn't there a comic book where Spiderman goes back in time to Prehistory?” Prentiss noted, eyebrows furrowed.

Her colleague glared at her, but she smirked back. She didn't want the investigation to continue any less than he did, but it was hard to fight the disturbing element in this conversation. She had therefore taken a step back from the situation and, like her companions, was enjoying this joyfully suspended moment.

“There!” exclaimed Jack as he returned.

“Well, that's the whole panoply, remarked his father, with amusement mixed with a hint of weariness. Sit so I can put your slippers on. Hop! And hop! You’re handsome that way. Wait, I’ll take a picture for the team. Go ahead, strike a pose. Wonderful! Go to the living room now, I’ll be right there.”

And the child sets sail for the third time. Morgan hoped that was for good.

“And here's the star!” announced Hotch, picking up his phone again.

Everyone received a message a few seconds later and everyone – even Derek – rushed to admire the snapshot. They discovered the toddler, hair a mess, grinning from ear to ear, wearing a Spiderman pajama top, a stocking studded with prehistoric saurian and bright red Flash McQueen slippers. He arched his chest with pride, his little fists resting on his hips.

“Oooooh! He's so cute! raved Penelope, safe in her Quantico lair. Can I print it large enough to make a poster?”

“Agreed,” nodded her boss, who wasn't that far from her after all.

“That's all very sweet, but we've got an investigation to conduct and always a question to ask,” grumbled Morgan, who was nervously tapping away on the table.

“What are you waiting for to ask it?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he grumbled as his neighbors laughed.

“You’d better hurry before…”

“DAD!”

Derek left the room.

___

I think this is the shortest CM fanfic I've ever writen and as it's full fluffiness, that was relaxing. I love to imagine moments between Hotch and his son. They can be so cute together. X3

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genshin-scenarios · 2 years

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A Story For the Stars (Kazuha x Reader)

"But if I was gone tomorrow, Won't the waves crash on? Is it selfish that I'm happy, As we pass the setting sun?" (x)

By some miraculous accident or other, Kazuha find himself waking up in the modern world, in an apartment that looks lived in according to his style. But… this was not Teyvat.

He sees a calendar by their desk with the date circled, marked as the first day of school. Thus with nothing else to go off of, Kazuha ventures to a high-school that was nothing but foreign, until he saw you.

You, the traveler that left Teyvat months ago after your journey was completed. You, whose appearance felt like a stab to the heart by how it reminded him of what he couldn't have - because how could he try to keep a windbourne traveler to himself? Kazuha of all people knew what your journey meant to you.

He should be - and is - glad that he met you at all, and that you promised a little space in your heart just for him to linger in, even if the you in this other world held no vivid memory of it.

Kazuha is one of the new students in your class. He sits next to the window and seems to have something on his mind at times, but you have to admit you found it charming when he’s gazing outside and the sunlight touches his features.

He looked like someone out of reach, but... why did your chest ache whenever you saw him? Why did you get the idea that he seemed a little lonely, and why did you feel the urge to approach him and ask if he was alright?

He didn’t really approach you at first, instead choosing to wait and see if you recognised him at all. When it turned out that you didn’t, despite how Kazuha could feel your gaze on him as he left the room, he summarized that he’d have to observe the rest of this world first before deciding on what to do.

As dumb as it was, Kazuha felt a little afraid to talk to you beyond fleeting classroom interactions, because every time you were near enough for him to see the question lingering behind your eyes, Kazuha felt the urge to cross that distance and– hell, he doesn’t know. Wrap you in a hug? Ask if you’d like to be friends? Tell you he missed you, even though you had no clue who the hell he was?

Being a wanderer meant he never stayed in one place for too long, but now Kazuha was stranded in an unknown universe together with the one person his soul has been yearning to see again for the longest time. Can you blame him for feeling conflicted? For feeling his heart ache every time his ears caught onto to the sound of your voice, so familiar that if he shut his eyes he’d be able to imagine himself with you in Teyvat?

But this wasn’t Teyvat. There were no visions or archons here, so when you ask if he’d like to meet up after school to work on your paired project, Kazuha nods and says yes, with eyes so kind and soft that your heart skips a beat.

He knows deep down that his time here is limited - perhaps a few months and the ley lines that dropped him into this world pull him back. Getting too close when you would only be pulled apart felt more cruel than simply avoiding you, but who was he kidding? He couldn't stay away for that long - not when he was stranded here for a grand total of six months.

You learn that Kazuha likes visiting the seaside that’s just twenty minutes from the school, not particularly for the sand but the feeling of peace that washes over him when the early evening wind blows. You see him penning poetry in the margins of his notes, and smile to yourself, thinking that somehow it does fit Kazuha to have such a way with words.

You grow so used to this friendship that it surprises you how it feels like you’ve known him all your life. But when the time comes for Kazuha to return to his world, would you be able to let him go?

It happens overnight; he’s not at school, and no one seems to know his name. When you call his cell it’s a stranger’s voice on the line, and when you visit his apartment in a frenzy it turns out another tenant has moved in and is living there.

You’re scared, but then you recall his words; his apology that you didn’t completely understand, his explanation that he feels like his time here will be up soon, and that he’s going home. You would’ve thought Kazuha was insane or lying if it wasn’t for the dreams you’ve been getting lately, of seemingly another life you lived where you were a traveler in another world.

A world where the elements followed your command like magic, where you were an adventurer that met Kazuha one fateful day, where you were absolutely certain that the feeling that overwhelms you whenever you spoke to him was love.

When you wake up, the dream is fuzzy, but enough to convince you to take Kazuha’s warnings seriously. You spend the last few weeks before he disappeared doing everything you could think of, leaving nothing left to regret.

The clouds and sky are purple and pink, just like the first time you walked across the beach together and you realized that the longing you felt for Kazuha was very much real and true.

Except now the emotion was so, so much worse. And as the next mornings came and went, you're left with a sinking feeling in your chest that you can't quite describe.

...Has the desk next to the window always been unoccupied? Why did you feel choked up whenever you looked at it, as if you were homesick for a place that you couldn't remember?

#if you know the song... you know 🥲🥲#and yes by the end of it you forget it all happened at all!#anyways guess who downloaded tower of fantasy!#really liking the chara customisation and weapons so far #traveler wishes #kazuha genshin impact #genshin kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha #gi kazuha #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin writing #genshin reader insert #genshin x you #genshin scenarios

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foxy-eva · 1 year

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Kryptonite

Summary: Spencer asks you to rescue him from a very scary spider in the bathroom

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Fluff, Comfort

Content Warnings: mentions of spiders and arachnophobia, mild embarrassment (Spencer)

Author’s Note: I wrote this little blurb for @imagining-in-the-margins Damsel/Dude in Distress Fic Writing Challenge!

Word count: 770

Masterlist

It's interesting how many new things you learn about a person after moving in together. Even when I thought that nothing could surprise me anymore, there were still so many things to learn about the man I loved.

Spencer's habit to leave books scattered on every surface of our apartment was one of the more endearing ones. The fact that he also left his empty coffee mugs everywhere was something we would need to talk about at some point.

Still, we did a great job adjusting to each other's routines and making ourselves comfortable in our shared home.

After living together for three months now, I knew that it took Spencer exactly thirteen minutes to shower and get dressed in the morning. So it was only natural for me to wonder what could have disrupted his usual routine today.

Ten minutes had already passed since he disappeared in the bathroom and I haven't even heard him turn on the water yet. Right when I considered knocking on the bathroom door, I heard him calling my name, followed by, "Can you come in here please? It's urgent."

Expecting the worst, I rushed over to the bathroom and swung open the door. Spencer was staring at the wall, looking paler than usual with an unsettling expression I had never seen before.

I followed his sight and spotted a spider sitting on the tiles.

"There… uhm," he started while pointing at the arachnid.

"It's a spider," I pointed out.

With a harsher tone than I had expected he almost shouted, "I know!"

My hand made contact with his shoulder and he jumped at my touch. I couldn't hide the playful tone in my voice when I asked him, "Spencer, are you scared of spiders?"

In his usual rambling manner he explained, "Arachnophobia is actually very common. And if you think about it, it's not completely irrational considering there are several venomous spiders in the US and two of them are local here in Virginia.” He paused for a moment and added, “This one is harmless, though."

I shrugged and said, "Okay, then you should be fine?"

"No!" He protested.

It was then that I realized that Spencer was actually freaking out. Not even his rational side could help him in this situation.

"Do you want me to remove it?" I suggested.

He shook his head and told me, "No, I want you to kill it. Please."

He walked out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with his archnemesis. I didn’t particularly like spiders myself so I took a deep breath to be brave for my boyfriend. When the job was done, I found him cowering on the bed.

He didn't look up at me when he mumbled, "Sorry I'm such a wimp."

I sat down beside him and took his hand in mine. "You catch serial killers for a living. You're not a wimp."

"Yeah but a tiny spider makes me freak out!"

"Oh it was far from tiny," I chuckled.

"Right! And it had so many eyes!!"

Gently I squeezed his hand, reassuring him, "I know, love. But it's gone now."

"Thank you," he whispered and leaned his head against my shoulder. "How did it even get in here? I never had spiders in my old apartment."

"They always find a way," I said without thinking too much about it.

Spencer turned his head to look at me, his eyes widening as he squeaked, "They better not!!"

It wasn't my intention to be anything but sincere, but seeing my boyfriend like this made it really hard not to smirk when I said, "Don't worry, I'll be here to protect you."

"Please don't make fun of me. I know this is ridiculous," he muttered.

"I'm not making fun of you. We all have our weak spots, I just think it's nice that I can help you with this one. I like the thought of being the one who comes to your rescue every once in a while," I cooed.

"Yeah, that actually does sound nice," he agreed.

I swung my arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his lips. We found our home inside each other's arms, with Spencer's head resting against my chest to listen to my heartbeat. As I played with his unruly curls, I noticed him taking a deep breath.

"Please don't tell Morgan about this," he sighed.

"What, that spiders are to Dr. Reid what Kryptonite is to Superman?"

That made him laugh and I dared to giggle with him. I leaned down to kiss his forehead, promising, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Tumblr might be hiding some posts from you! Learn how to change this setting here so you can see all of my stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luna-novae @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @reidsmilf @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @jordierama @ellamaianderson @cynbx @feltonswifesworld87 @sweetannanas @dashneydanger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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lorz-ix · 1 year

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"Metal Gear Rising is so dumb"

So I wanted to reminisce about the popular reception to MGR:R with the excuse of its 10th anniversary.

I remember back when the game first came out, the main argument I remember from my group of friends was "this game is bad because it's not a real Metal Gear game", which quickly faded away when we realized it was actually fun as shit and very badass. Still, the compromise was "it's fun, but shallow compared to the real deal".

Funny enough, over these 10 years, my opinion on the game has flipped. I actually think the storyline is severely underrated, while the gameplay has fatal flaws that I only truly started to feel after many repeated playthroughs in an attempt to master the tougher challenges. Regardless, the combat system isn't the rant I wanted to go on today.

I wanted to talk about a pet peeve that I have with this perception that this game is "shallow and dumb", surely not helped by the massive amount of memes. I laugh at them like anyone else would, but they also worry me a bit sometimes. Like this.

youtube

Guys, come on. I know these memes aren't that deep, but they show this popular idea that the game is just crazy and it doesn't make much sense. But I think it's the opposite, these memes show miscellaneous lyrics from the game's soundtrack and they could hardly be more explicit about the point they're trying to make.

I'm not going to post every little example here, but many of the game's popular songs use very thin metaphors to comment on the brutality and cruelty of war, how soldiers are made to kill each other with no more motivation than to not get killed themselves, how war dehumanizes you. The individual boss themes are reflections of each character's feelings and motivations, which I will admit can get more esoteric and harder to understand at first glance, but these characters in the context of the story also come with a villainous monologue to help you understand their point and how it links to the broader narrative, for the most part.

In no sense is all of this more blatant than in the final two boss fights in the game. First, US Senator Armstrong greets you with a cartoonish speech laying out his political ideology.

And from the ashes, a new America will be born. Evolved, but untamed! The weak will be purged, and the strongest will thrive -- free to live as they see fit, they will make America GREAT AGAIN! (this game came out in 2013 by the way)

His ideal world is one where, seemingly, every person is free to do as they please, with no one to stop them, power completely unchecked. Meaning they would also be free to oppress. A world where tyranny is justified if you can earn your spot at the top. It's extremely unsubtle, with the point of culling the weak being explicitly mentioned several times, because we all know poor and marginalized people are only holding the rest of us back, right? And as if you needed the message hammered into your head any harder, the song that plays during your first round against the senator goes a little something like this:

youtube

The unenlightened masses They cannot make the judgment call Give up free will forever Their voices won't be heard at all

Display obedience While never stepping out of line And blindly swear allegiance Let your country control your mind

Live in ignorance And purchase your happiness When blood and sweat is the real cost Thinking ceases, the truth is lost Don't you worry You'll be told exactly what to do I give my people the lives they need The righteous will succeed

The fires of greed will burn the weak So we'll make freedom obsolete Making whole the fabric of society Collective consciousness controlled as you will see

MIND CONTROL

Let your country control your soul Let your country control your soul Let your country control your soul Let your country control your soul

But it doesn't end there! As you could imagine, if you haven't played or watched the game (sorry for spoiling the hell out of it I suppose), there is a round two against Armstrong, and the lyrics during that fight quite literally spells out the point of the game, again with the subtlety of a jackhammer. This is the one that became the subject of many, many memes.

youtube

Standing here I realize You are just like me Trying to make history But who's to judge The right from wrong When our guard is down I think we'll both agree

That violence breeds violence But in the end it has to be this way

I've carved my own path You followed your wrath But maybe we're both the same The world has turned And so many have burned But nobody is to blame

Yet staring across this barren wasted land I feel new life will be born Beneath the blood stained sand

Beneath the blood stained sand

Before ultimately being killed by Raiden, Armstrong reflects how, despite finding his ideology of "the strong get to decide" repulsive, ultimately the protagonist proved him right because the only way to stop him was by being stronger than him, doing so by force. This point isn't trying to say that Armstrong's ideology was correct in the end, and they very obviously weren't the same, since Raiden's motivation was to ensure that the weak would not have to resort to violence to survive like he had. I strongly believe this is supposed to be a mockery of Armstrong, who even while dying has to resort to cheap political rhetoric to save face. Stop me if you've never heard a politician try to appeal to everyone by saying "we actually want the same thing".

As it stands, the game is loud, and it couldn't be making its point in a less subtle way. Everyone deserves a life of peace and freedom from oppression, and sometimes the only way to ensure that peace is to commit otherwise unethical acts. Rebelling against the oppressor does not turn you into "the new oppressor" and it sure as hell doesn't put you on the same level of morality.

This entire rant had one point: to briefly show people that Metal Gear Rising Revengeance isn't the nonsensical spectacle it's broadly perceived as, it's an action game that wears its political, anti-war influence from the broader Metal Gear franchise on its sleeve, and it does so loudly and proudly. I'm ashamed to admit it took me a while to understand it at first too, but I thought having english as a third language played a bigger role in this. To reiterate, it is a little bit concerning that the broader english-speaking internet seemed to miss the point of the game so hard, and it probably goes to show how generally immature we still are.

If you're still interested in this flawed masterpiece after having the ending spoiled, I was going to stream it all in one sitting this weekend (nice plug, loser), and/or you can get it for 5 bucks on steam right now, since there's a sale ending on the 27th. With all that being said, thanks again for reading through my ramblings 🙏

#metal gear rising revengeance #mgrr #Youtube

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dayenurose · 2 years

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Writer’s Month Prompts (written for @writersmonth )

Day 19 - Bubbles and Single Parent(s) (Bughead)

“Look! The playground looks like a pirate ship. Can I play? Please, Jug.” Jellybean bounced on her toes and tugged his hand.

Jughead hesitated as he paused to check his watch. He needed to get her some dinner into his sister before he headed to work. But, they didn’t need to head home quite yet and this looked to be one of the last few nice days of autumn before it got too cold to play outside.

The playground did resemble a ship—the piratey-ness was left up to the imagination of the children, he supposed—with a pilot’s wheel, a mounted spy glass, and a deck composed of a plank bridge. Tall masts held up a canvas shade instead of sails. Under and around the play structure was a blue rubber mat. Nearby, a climbing structure in the likeness of a sea serpent rose and fell out of the ‘water.’

With one look at Jellybean’s pleading eyes and puppy dog pout, Jughead’s resistance crumbled.

“Okay. You’ve got a half hour, then we head home for dinner.” The moment he let go of her hand, she took off like a shot. Calling after her, he held up his phone, “I’ve set a timer.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” she yelled over her shoulder as she scrambled up a rope climbing net to a platform at the ‘bow’ of the ship.

He settled on a nearby bench and pulled his well used copy of Nortons Anthology out of his backpack. While his sister played, he could get started on his readings for class. As long as he could hear her voice rambling in excited pretend, he didn’t need to worry. It always amazed how easily kids could befriend each other on the playground and play together like they’ve been friends their entire life. He’d never been like that. When he was a kid, he much preferred hiding away in the cool shadows under the play structure and read. Apparently somethings never changed.

With Jelly happily playing, he delved into his reading. Between college, work, and Jellybean, he scarcely had enough time to get done everything he needed to accomplish. With everything going on this week, he’d fallen a bit behind on his homework. At the very least the park was a nice change of pace for his studying. The wind caught at the wafer thin pages, when he paused to underline a passage and scribble notes in the margins.

“Looks like some heavy reading,” a cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts.

His first instinct was to check on Jellybean—she was still playing happily with a dark haired girl a year or two younger than her. Then, he turned to figure who was addressing him. A woman about his age with blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, stood at the corner of his bench. Behind her she pulled a red wagon with two small red-haired children. To his eye, they appeared to be about four. Their features were similar enough he took them for siblings, and most likely twins.

Her bright smile faltered for a minute. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I know what it’s like to sneak in a few minutes of reading.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Jughead found his brain blanking. While he could be quite loquacious when he was passionate about a subject, he’d never been particularly good with small talk. And, for the first time in a while, the fact bothered him. “Um, you’re right about the heavy reading. My back keeps trying to convince me to choose a different major.”

She laughed. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Yeah,” he blurted awkwardly. “I mean, yes, you can join me. I don’t mind.”

“My fault. That definitely was about the most awkward way to word the question.” She proceeded to help the twins out of the wagon. Once free from the wagon, they made a direct path for the same play structure Jellybean now captained.

“I’m Betty,” she introduced herself as sat beside him. While she kept an eagle eye on the twins, her whole body seemed to melt into the bench as though this was the first chance she had to relax in days. He knew that feeling very well.

“Jughead,” he offered her his hand. “Go ahead an laugh.”

She returned the handshake with a firm grip and no laughter. “Believe me, I’m not stranger to unusual names.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my niece and nephew are Juniper and Dagwood—though they go by Juni and DJ.” Betty gestured over at the twins who dashed back and forth across the bridge in an attempt to make it sway. “Give it ten minutes and they’ll be back over her begging to be entertained.”

He smiled fondly, “I remember those days.”

“Oh? Which one is yours?”

He pointed up at Jellybean who appeared to be having an imaginary sword fight. “That one.”

“How old were you?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Betty’s face flushed a brilliant scarlet. An apology immediately followed, the words tumbling out in rush as though, if she spoke fast enough she might erase her faux pas. “I am so sorry. That was rude. I really do know better than to assume. I hate it when people judge me…”

“Breathe, Betts.” When he placed a hand on her shoulder she didn’t pull away. “Yeah, I’m not particularly fond of that question, but I’ve been dealing with it since I was sixteen. Jellybean is my little sister. She’s twelve years younger than me and I've been looking after her since she was four.”

“You really don’t need to explain.” Betty began to gather her belongings.

“Please, don’t leave on my account.” He set his textbook on the bench and turned to face Betty. “I’ve got a feeling you understand. And, I could use someone to talk to about all this. Jelly’s my sister, but she’s also mine…do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Betty nodded. “I have custody of Juni and DJ. When my sister died, believe it or not, I was the most responsible person to take custody of them. So, they’ve been mine for the past two years. I was barely out of high school and suddenly I was a mom to twins.”

As though they sensed Betty talking about them, the twins escaped the apparently sinking ship via the slide and came running towards Betty.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Juni called. “Bubbles!”

Betty withdrew a bottle of bubbles from her bag. “Okay, but no fighting with your brother about who gets to pop them. And Deej, no fighting with your sister.”

The children nodded solemnly. Their eyes were wide with eager expectation. Betty dipped the wand into the bubble juice, then blew gently at the loops. A myriad of bubbles danced on the wind. Squealing in delight, Juni and DJ took off after the bubbles.

Jughead smiled. She was amazing with the twins. It couldn’t be easy being responsible for twins. “Mommy?”

“It’s a new thing,” Betty paused to blow more bubbles, keeping the kids busy while they chatted. “They don’t really remember my sister and she wasn’t exactly maternal. So, I’m pretty much the only parental figure they know. Their therapist says it’s a good thing. But, it still feels a bit strange.”

“I can imagine. Jelly never called me dad, thank God. While, our parents aren’t exactly the responsible type, they've been in and out of our lives as it's convenient for them. Mom took off with Jelly right after she was born, leaving me with dad. Then, when Jelly was four, mom showed up for a few months only to disappear and never come back. I ended up being the one to raise Jellybean, which was better than anything I got.” Jughead offered a bit of their story in return.

“What about your dad?”

Before he could answer, Jellybean abandoned ship in a dramatic fashion. Dying loudly as she bounded across the playground, she sprawled at her final resting spot in the grass beside the bench. Just as suddenly as she was washed overboard, she popped up and studied Betty. “Jug, I want to blow bubbles.”

“They’re not ours. You need to ask. Politely.” Jughead nodded to the twins.

“May I play too? Please.” Jelly gave Betty her most angelic smile.

“Of course,” Betty handed Jellybean the bottle of bubbles. Her relief at having a break was evident to Jughead, but not so much to the kids.

Juni and DJ followed Jellybean as she lead them into a grass spot not far from the bench, but far enough the adults could talk without being overheard.

Still, Jughead lowered his voice as he finally answered Betty’s question. It wasn’t like his sister didn’t know the story. “Dad being around was a technicality at best. When the choice came to being a dad or the bottle, he’d infallibly choose the bottle. So, I watched out for Jelly. But, his habit for petty crime finally caught up with him and he’s now a guest upstate.” Bitterness crept into Jughead’s words. Everybody left him, which made him twice as determined to make certain his sister never felt left behind. “Anyways, my custody of my sister is now state sanctioned.”

He tugged on the friendship bracelet his sister had given him earlier in the week when he’d been given official custody of her. She’d made them matching bracelets as a symbol that no matter what happened, it would always be them against the world.

“Jellybean is lucky to have a big brother like you.” When Betty turned her brilliant smile on him, Jughead’s heart beat faster and a warmth like sunshine filled him from the inside out.

“Thanks. Juni and DJ are lucky to have you too.”

Betty’s hand rested on the bench between them. The temptation to take her hand prompted him to reach for her. Before his fingers could brush against her skin, an alarm sounded, bringing him back to his senses.

“Jug, your timer went off. You said we have to go.” Jellybean stood about two inches from his knee with her hands on her hips. She gaze drifted between her big brother and Betty. “Are we going? I want burgers for dinner.”

With a sigh, Jughead pushed up from the bench and began repacking his backpack. “It was nice meeting you, Betts.”

“It was nice meeting you too.” Betty glanced over at the twins who had followed Jellybean (and the bubbles). “I never do this…I suppose I’m terribly out of practice…would you like to meet up again?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” Jughead held out his phone, “Give me your number and I’ll text you.”

With the exchanging of numbers complete and Jellybean impatiently tugging on his hand, Jughead waved. “Bye.”

“Bye Juggie,” Betty called after him.

All the way home, Jughead had a silly grin plastered on his face. He couldn’t wait to get to know Betty better.

About a block away from home, Jellybean looked up at her bother. “I like Betty. When can we see her again?”

“Soon,” Jughead promised. “I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other.”

He might not know what the future held for him and Jellybean, but he could easily picture Betty and the twins as a lasting part of their lives.

#writersmonth2022 #fanfiction #jughead jones #betty cooper #bughead

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