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omgbigfluffwriting · 3 years

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When You’re Gone Chapter 1

[Gabriella's POV]

I never expected to have my childhood best friend be my Criminology Professor. It seems kind of weird but whatever. I don't exactly remember my childhood and early teen memories thanks to the car accident that nearly took my life in the year before my last at high school. I decided to go to college to earn my bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice at 30 and I was on my last year at age 34. That day I was determined to be early. When I was a child, according to my best friend Spencer Reid, he usually described me as a chicken with its head cut off due to my spacing out. He never meant it to be cruel, just a matter of fact. Criminology was my second class of the day, after English. Professor Clarke was supposed to be teaching it and nobody took it seriously... at least those who weren't studying Criminal Law like I was. However, when I walked into the classroom...I didn't see the middle-aged woman I knew to be Professor Clarke. Standing at the whiteboard was a tall, skinny man, with shoulder length messy brown hair wearing black slacks with a purple vest, lilac dress shirt and white tie. His converse shoes made him look younger than he was. Somehow, he seemed familiar. There were a few girls already present in the room. I took my seat next to a girl in blue named Ruby Darley. We introduced ourselves and Ruby whispered, "What do you want to bet that most of these girls are not studying Criminal Law?" "Hm, let me get back to you on that." I whispered back. "Wait, why do you ask?" I asked. "Wait until the professor turns around." Ruby said with a grin. I raised my eyebrow at her. By this time the classroom was full. The professor turned around and looked at all of us. He had large hazel eyes which looked brown, honey brown to be exact and looked like he should be a model, rather than a college professor. "Good morning, I am Dr. Spencer Reid and welcome to Criminology. Professor Clarke needed to step away, so I am covering for her this semester." He started handing out our copies of the class syllabus as he continued talking. His name tickled my memory but I'd had an accident in my junior year of high school that I almost died from so my childhood memories and early teen years were pretty fuzzy. When he got to me, he handed me the syllabus but his eyes narrowed. I raised my eyebrow at him, hoping I wasn't being rude. Apparently, I didn't have what he was looking for, because he continued to hand out syllabuses. "What was that about?" Ruby whispered to me. I shrugged as Doctor Reid went back to the front of the class. He took attendance and his voice was a little strange when he called out my name. "Present," I say as I doodle on my writing notebook. Dr. Reid thoughtfully nodded and wrote something down on his piece of paper. --- [Spencer's POV] After class, I wanted to call Gabby up and see why she didn't recognize me. But she slipped out before I had the chance. So I found myself contacting Garcia to do a search for the girl I loved. "You've reached the all-knowing BAU Oracle." Garcia said. "Hi Garcia do you have a moment?" I asked. I heard Garcia snort. "For you, 187, I have all the time in the world." Garcia joked. "What do you need Doc?" I take a deep breath. I hope that wherever she is, she's happy. "I need you to look up someone for me. Her name is Gabriella Chambers, born May 19th 1984." I heard Garcia's fingers type rapidly. "It says here that she's living in Washington D.C. right now and attending the university that you're teaching at, Boy Wonder." Garcia reported. "Her grades are impeccable. I'm not going to lie, I'm impressed,187." Garcia's voice sounded impressed with Gabby's grades. I was impressed myself since she had always struggled with Math during childhood. I nodded. Then, realizing she can’t see me: "Could you dig into her medical records? She should have recognized me today." I asked. Garcia made a noise of assent and typed even more. I was about to hang up when she said, "Oh my God. She was involved in a car accident her junior year of high school and nearly died. As a result, she has extreme retrograde amnesia and the doctors don't expect her childhood and early teen memories to return." I felt a rock fall to the pit of my stomach. So all the memories I shared with her were just gone, like they never happened? What about that pact we made when she was 7 and I was 10, if we were both over 30 and unwed that we'd marry each other? Did she truly not remember our first kiss when I was 16? "You're in love with her." Garcia cut into my reverie. "I'm sorry 187. I didn't think... well if you can't get her memories to return, there's always a blank slate you can start with." Tears fell down my face. I did not want to start afresh with her. Yet I may have to. I start putting away my things in order to get ready to leave when the door opened and Gabby walked in. She approached me cautiously, testing the waters. "I'm sorry, Dr. Reid, but you seem awfully familiar to me and I can't place meeting you anywhere." I could work with 'awfully familiar'! "Actually . . . we were childhood friends." I said and pulled the picture of us when she was 7 out of my messenger bag for proof. I was pushing her on a swing in the picture. "I don't remember." She said sadly and handed the picture of us back to me. "I was in an accident and have problems with my long term memories." I bit my lip. "Would you like to come back to my apartment with me? I have the letters you wrote me before we lost contact." I offered but she shook her head. "No, it's okay. I just wanted to know why you were so familiar." She said. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then she was gone. ---- [Gabby's POV] I rushed home. There was no way in hell that I'd known Dr. Reid during the period of time that I was missing... I dug out what I called my photography box. On the top was the very same picture that Dr. Reid had shown me. It must have been a favorite of mine. I was astonished to find a handful of pictures that contained the two of us and a bunch of letters tied with a length of ribbon. My mother had saved every letter he'd written me. The letters indicated that we were close, probably close enough to eventually fall in love with the other. I could see me doing that. Dr. Reid was attractive, definitely my type. I was so engrossed in the letters that if the knock on my door hadn't been as loud as it was, I would have missed it. "Coming." I set my almost finished bundle of Dr. Reid's letters on top of my bed and answered the door. Dr. Reid was standing on my doorstep. "I'm just a few doors down from you but . . . here." Dr. Reid handed me a second bundle that's tied with a baby blue ribbon. Mine was tied with a hot pink ribbon. "Okay I'll get these back..." I started. "Keep them. I have an eidetic memory, so I can recall them whenever I want. See you tomorrow." He started to walk away but I caught his arm in time. He turned to look at me. "I have the letters you wrote to me." I say. "You seem so... painfully different from when you wrote those letters. Tell me what happened?" He starts to consider it but then freezes. "It'll be best for you to remain my student. I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Chambers." He said and yanked his arm from my grasp. I gasped at the unspoken consequence, that if I can't do that, then I should drop his class. "Why are you being so cold?" I call after him. He doesn't answer. --- [Spencer's POV] I had to blink back tears as I head back to my own apartment. It's best for her if I remain Dr. Spencer Reid in her eyes. She'll be safer when I return to the BAU after my reinstatement requirements are met. The moment I get into my apartment, I truly crumble to the floor and let go. It feels like I've lost the two women I have ever loved to tragic fates - Maeve because she was murdered and Gabby because of a car accident. Technically, I didn't lose Gabby, she was still alive but the amnesia was worse than death in my opinion. I wondered what had made her lose such a big amount of her long-term memories. I had been such an integral part of her childhood... It would be better to keep my distance and let her marry someone else who can keep her safe from the monsters I face on a daily basis. --- [Spencer's POV] The next morning I walked into the Criminology class to see that Gabby was the first student in the classroom, going over an assignment I had handed out yesterday for homework. She looked up and then looked back down at the paper. "Need help?" I asked her. She shook her head. I wandered over to her desk. The classroom was empty and I owed her an explanation about my behavior last night. "Look," I murmured. "Last night was a..." "Disaster seems like a good word for it," Gabby said, looking up sternly and giving me a pissed look. I sighed. "The thing is, I'm trying to protect you." She looked up at me with impatience. "Have you ever heard of the Behavioral Analysis Unit?" I asked, looking at her. "Who hasn't?" Gabby asked. "They're the nation's elite at criminal profiling." I nod. "I'm part of that unit. I've put countless criminals away who would love to hurt you to get to me. It's safer for you if we keep the relationship to that of teacher and student." I admitted, not for the first time. "Safer..." Gabby snorted. "Dr. Reid, I read all of your letters that you sent me before my accident last night. There's no way in hell that I'll believe you're capable of staying at a teacher/student relationship with me." The door opened and I returned to the front, clearly pissed off. Ruby Darley walked in as I faced the whiteboard to hide my expression, furiously writing. "Wow, Dr. Reid looks pissed. Did one of those girls proposition him?" I wanted to turn around and tell Ms. Darley I could hear her but considering the argument Gabby and I just had, it wasn't a good idea. "No, Dr. Reid's mad at me." I hear Gabby say as she opened her notebook. "You didn't!" Ms. Darley said in shock. "Quite frankly, I didn't have you pegged as one of the girls who would actually go and f**k a professor for the hell of it." "I didn't proposition him," Gabby says through her teeth. "It was over something else." I now turned around and said, "Ms. Darley, what occurred between Ms. Chambers and I is quite naturally between us. If she chooses to tell you, she may but please refrain from making comments like that." I resume my writing but still listened in. The girls changed the subject. "I can't believe that assignment Professor Callaghan gave us today for English," Ruby complained. "Well, we are reading Anne of Avonlea." I hear Gabby say with a snort. "I went through the papers my mom saved from my elementary school days." I wonder if she's saying this for my benefit... "There was this boy I had a crush on. I wrote him a letter based on the Anne books." "Did you ever give it to him?" Ruby asked. "No, I was too shy to give him the letter in that instance," Gabby says. I'd never thought of her being shy. "So what's going on between you and Dr. Reid?" I kind of wanted to know myself, so I listened. "Childhood friends and I don't remember him," Gabby answered a bit tersely. "He was acting like a jackass last night." I raised an eyebrow at her comment. "So would you?" Ruby asked. I wondered what Ruby was asking Gabby. Some sort of nonverbal exchange must've happened because I heard, "Hell no!" I turned around and raised an eyebrow at the two women. Ruby wrote something down and passed it to Gabby. "C'mon, he's clearly listening and I don't feel like explaining myself." She hissed. "It's a yes or no question, Gabby." Ruby said, giving her a look. "Drop *it* !" Gabby hissed again as I was just about to come over to their table to see what was written on the paper sitting between them like a high school teacher. "You're not getting out of answering." Ruby says as she puts the note away and the classroom fills.

#Criminal Minds Fanfic #dr. spencer reid smut #dr. spencer reid x fem!oc

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lillithenettix · 4 years

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Part 3

Part 4/?

Part 5

With Putunia out of his view, Habit wanted to turn around. Look after her as she ran as if that would give him any answers to all the questions appearing inside his head.

Read the rest of the fic under the cut!

He still remembered the day she got checked in by her parents. She was very loud and violent. Jumping around his office as soon as she entered, not even sparing him a glance.

So rude! He wasn’t looking forward on having to handle her at the time.

At least she seemed to appreciate his wall art. He liked it when his creations got acknowledged and fawned over. It caused him to feel a sense of accomplishment. Throughout his life he learned to cherish the little things. They kept him going. Pushing him forward when nothing and no one else did.

As he started talking with her parents, something felt oddly familiar. It scratched at the back of his head like a caged wild cat trying to escape its small prison. He didn’t let it show. He just answered all their questions. They had so many it was almost making head hurt. Most of them were just silly, even in his less-than-sane opinion.

Is it really free? Is it legal? We don’t have to come to check up on her until the very end, right? Could you provide a free ride for her to get back home?

At some point he stopped paying attention to the parents’ blabbering and just kept nodding, while looking at the little girl still engrossed in the paintings. He hoped he could get the parents out of his hair soon. He really wanted the mind-scratching to go away.

Once the parents seemed satisfied with everything, they called Putunia over. Habit was still looking at her, not sure if feeling delight to meet his newest Habitician or something akin to annoyance.

Not even a second later, he decided it was annoyance. As soon as Putunia set her eyes on him she, for some reason unbeknownst to him, decided that he was a super villain. He was taken by surprise when she sprinted towards him only to punch him where she really shouldn’t have. Not even a man built like Boris could keep standing after that.

Once he was done dealing with the pain on the floor he ushered the father away even if he was trying to help him. Boris stood up, trying to contain his annoyance at the whole situation. He wished he had Pabit here with him right now. He was sure he could’ve stayed calm with him on his hand.

As he was about to take a few deep breaths, maybe count backwards from ten, he saw what was going on. Putunia standing straight and tense with her eyes closed so hard her whole face was wrinkled, her mother raising her hand above her head-

Suddenly, he knew what the scratch in his mind was. It was abruptly so obvious. So painful. So familiar.

He saw a much younger Boris, his father, and his Lily. They were standing in front of him. He was frozen still. It took him only a blink to get back to reality. See the little girl, her mother, and her boxing glove.

His body moved on its own. It felt like he had no control over it. He grabbed the mother’s raised hand in a flash, maybe a bit harshly at first, but he let go just as fast. Thankfully, it seemed to get the point across.

Don’t hit her.

He remembered being in a bit of a shock for a while, his voice completely lost to him. That’s when he drew the first anti-violence poster, or rather, post-it note.

He didn’t do many things right in his life but, he thinks, that’s the one thing he didn’t screw up.

His reminiscing got put to a halt when, immediately after the little girl was out of sight, a man with bright pink spectacles appeared before him.

It was Dallas, the painter. The first thing he noticed were the paint stains on him. He was always messy when it came to painting. Different colors were smudged on him every day. You could almost tell what he was painting just by looking at those.

Then, looking up, he noticed a snowdrop hanging above Dallas, stuck behind his headband. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it for a while.

Purity, innocence, sympathy… That’s what the flower meant. Though, somehow, that didn’t sound right.

After burying the Tooth Lily seeds, he didn’t have anything to do with flowers anymore. He avoided them for so many years. It was easier ignoring what his heart yearned for that way. Only once he was brought out of his manic state by Flower Kid did he allow his mind to wonder about flowers, study them, and appreciate them.

He had to think harder. What does a snowdrop mean?

A hand casually put onto his shoulder broke his train of thought.

Boris finally looked down, away from the flower and towards Dallas. The younger man put his other arms onto the table, and leaned his head on his hand. The relaxed smile plastered onto his face made Boris feel calm. It’s like his smile was telling him-

“Don’t worry, dude.” Dragging out the words like he usually did. “All’s cool.” He took off his glasses, hooked them onto the low collar of his shirt leaned closer. His smile turning a bit more devilish.

Habit could feel his breath now. As seconds passed he got more and more flustered at their proximity. His heart skipped a beat in anticipation as Dallas closed his eyes, puckered his lips, and sent a kiss to Boris.

Boris wasn’t sure how to react. Another kiss, just for him! Blushing, he opened his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what but he needed to fill the silence. It was simply too much!

Dallas didn’t let him get even a squeak out before he removed the snowdrop from his headband and tucked it behind Habit’s ear next to the other two flowers.

He gave Habit another pat on the shoulder, “You can, like, relax now.” And continued on the same path as Putunia.

Ah, he remembered the meaning now.

-----

When Dallas came across the Habitat website during his art block he thought he found his solution. The page was totally inspirational. Like, the bold colors, the doodles, the everything! It really didn’t take him long to pack up his art supplies and make his way there.

Even before entering the Habitat, when looking at the whole area, he was itching for a brush. The whole resort was an art project, if you ask him. Especially the weirdly shaped tower. Honestly that one looked ready to collapse at any moment, but he was no architect, he’s sure it’s fine.

When he entered the place he was getting a bit giddy seeing all the wall art. Could his art block, like, really end here? Is this the inspiration he needed?

Wanting to soak in as much of the view as possible in as little time as possible, he jogged around the place. The more he explored the calmer he got. It was a big place. A unique place. And the whole experience could be an inspiration by itself. The giant wall doodles were also nice, but it wasn’t quite cutting it. Something was missing. He wanted something more.

Should he really stay here? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Not having time to think his decision trough, someone grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, using enough strength to not give him room to resist.

The person responsible was like, super tall, very green, and kinda pretty. Taking in the comically fluffy hair, giant blue coat, and little top hat on top of his head, he put two and two together.

“Whazzup, Doc?” He made a little peace sign, as if it added to the conversation.

The doctor tilted his head, seemingly waiting for some elaboration from Dallas.

Okay, maybe it was like, totally weird to come in unannounced and then wander around for who knows how long, instead of going to the medical professional running the place. But who can blame him? He’s an artist in need of motivation!

“So, like, I want in.” Does he, really? “Into the Habitat, dude.” Guess so.

The tall guy instantly perked up, hooked his hand around Dallas’ own, and dragged him towards the tower.

“Oh, then follow me!” He was already dragging him places, but okay, got’cha. “You will love it here!”

Dope, he sounds genuine. It’ll be, like, fine.

It’s been so long since that day.

Besides his first week there, he barely saw Habit around. Eventually, he forgot about him. Well, kind of. There were so many self-portraits and doodles decorating the Habitat it was hard to keep him completely out of mind. Only towards the end of his stay, when the creepy PSAs of his started playing every night, did Habit start lingering in his mind for longer periods, rather than just quick and easily forgettable reminders.

He wasn’t sure what exactly went on with Habit behind the scenes, but it didn’t seem very… chill. He might’ve been a bit dense, but not blind.

In the end, he ended up hearing about the events that transpired during the big event from others.

Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t experienced any of the bad stuff directly. Maybe it was the fact he’s a criminally chill dude. Or maybe it was the fact that Habit was genuinely remorseful about his actions, by the tone of the letter, even desperate. Whatever the reason, it didn’t take him long to make up his mind and accept the Doc’s invitation.

He even thought of the perfect gift to bring him, to celebrate his new beginning. Something representing hope.

A snowdrop.

#my art #my writing #Dallas Smuth #Boris Habit #smile for me #smile for me game #sfm #dallas is such a pleasure to draw

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chuffyfan87 · 4 years

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Boxes Of Memories. Part A

Cowritten with @fairheads. Set during Series 31 not long after Chuffy got married.

-x-

Charlie and Duffy lay in bed, it was their day off and they were basking in the afterglow of their morning love making.

“So Mrs, now that you’ve worn me out... What shall we do today?” Charlie chuckled.

"Well you promised me that we'd clear out the spare room on our next day off together."

“Did I?”

"You did. I've performed my part of the agreement, now it's your turn!"

“But... There's so much stuff in there! Wouldn’t you rather just stay here instead?” Charlie suggested with a grin.

"Well you never know what we might find in there. Some of that stuff looks like it goes back decades!"

“Maybe they’ll be some treasure...” Charlie laughed.

"From your secret past as a pirate?" She giggled.

“Shiver my timbers! Don’t you go all heave ho-ing with my booty missus!”

"I'll heave ho you in a minute if you don't get out of bed!" She laughed as she sat up and retrieved her nighty from the floor next to the bed.

“That sounds fun! Okay, okay... but can we have regular breaks?”

Standing up she slipped the nighty back on. "What exactly did you have in mind for these breaks?" She asked as she turned around, her hand resting on her hip.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander over all of her curves. He stepped towards her, putting his arms around her waist. “I’m sure we can think of something... Don’t you?” He winked.

She shook her head fondly. "You have a one track mind!"

“I know... but it’s not my fault... you have that effect on me!”

"Still? I'd have thought you'd be bored of me by now." She chuckled.

He smiled, even after all this time, she still didn’t quite believe that anyone would find her desirable in that way. It was her own personal battle, but he tried his best to reassure her. “Never! You’re too damn sexy for me to ever get bored!”

She blushed as she stepped out of his embrace. Moving over to the dresser she threw a pair of boxers and a tshirt at him.

He looked at her, as she avoided his gaze, but decided to leave it. Pulling on the clothes she had thrown, he walked towards the door. “Come on then, let’s get cracking!”

Entering the spare room Duffy bit her lip as she gazed at the stacks of boxes contained within it. Maybe Charlie had a point, this was going to take them forever!

Charlie didn’t know where to begin, but knelt down next to the box nearest the door. Their combined stuff from different houses had lead to this collection of boxes.

Duffy walked across the room and picked up a box from another pile. "Might as well divide and attempt to conquer." She explained.

While she busied herself, over the other side of the room he opened his box. Inside, he found a stack of notebooks. Definitely not his, he flicked through some of the pages and recognised her writing. “These must be yours Duf."

She looked up briefly before doing a double take as she realised what box he had in his hands. Shit! Why had she left that so near the door? She quickly got to her feet. "Um, yes. I'll just take those." She stuttered, reaching out for the box.

Surprised by her sudden reaction, he was now intrigued. He hadn’t had long enough to read any of the writing. “Old diaries?”

"Just the silly ramblings of a foolish young girl." She replied dismissively.

“Oh yeah? Do I feature?” He teased, although by her face, he wasn’t sure if he had pushed his luck.

"Wouldn't you just love that!"

He looked up at her, a little taken aback, she avoided his gaze - he seemed to have hit a nerve. Sitting down, he opened a different box, this time he pulled out some things from his own childhood. He turned over a well- loved teddy bear in his hands.

"He looks like he's seen some adventures." She remarked from across the room.

“Hasn’t he just! I don’t think I can get rid of him...”

She held up a threadbare pink rabbit. "Its ok, I won't tell if you don't!" She giggled.

“They can be friends!” He laughed, positioning them together on the carpet.

"So long as they're not the kind of friends we were!"

He laughed. “You hear that rabbit, no funny business!”

"I think you'll find that Miss Rabbit is a well behaved innocent girl!"

“Yeah... right!” He rolled his eyes. Reaching for another box, he found loads of crockery. “I’ll take this downstairs, if we don’t need it, it can probably go to charity.”

"Maybe we can claim its vintage and make some money from it?"

“Maybe!” When he returned, Duffy was looking pensively at something she had found. She sighed and placed the items back in the box, not realising she was being watched.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She sighed and reached back into the box. She held the items up towards him. "Wedding photos." She sighed.

Knowing that she wasn’t referring to their wedding as the album was sitting on the shelf in the living room, he knelt behind her and put his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm surprised by how happy I look. I clearly didn't realise what a huge mistake I was making."

“We got there in the end though hey...” He smiled, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.

"I don't really know what to do with them. Do you still have yours?"

He shook his head. “Baz... I imagine they were chucked out a long time ago. But you can keep yours if you want? We can box some of this stuff and put it in the loft.”

"I feel like I should keep them for the boys but..." She shrugged.

“Let’s keep them, I’ll pop them in the loft,” He smiled reassuringly at her.

"You're OK with that?"

“Of course love, it’s okay,”

"I know you two never really got along. Not really."

“Maybe not, but I had my reasons...”

"I wonder what those could have been..." She smiled. "Is it true what Josh told me?"

"None of them treated you like they should have done Duffy... What did Josh tell you?”

"That you threatened to break Ryan's legs."

Charlie’s face flushed red. “I... I may have said that, I was just trying to protect you.”

"I'll let you in on a little secret... I entertained the idea of giving Baz a good hard slap on several occasions."

“What are we like!? I think you’d have won...” He mumbled.

"You think?" She laughed. "She seemed like the type to have a mean right hook."

He smirked, knowing she was right. “But if it mattered to you enough...”

"That smirk better not be from you imagining that particular scenario!" She tried to keep the smile from her face.

He laughed, she knew him so well. “That obvious? You got me!”

"I suppose its good to know you would've backed me."

Charlie smiled at her as she passed him the box ready for the loft. They had managed to clear quite a bit already. “We’re getting there!”

Duffy handed him another box. "You can put this in the loft too. It's some of my mother's things, I'll sort them another day."

“Okay, I’ll take them up now.” He knew that that job would take a lot more emotional energy than Duffy had left today. “Is it time for a break now?” He shouted from the step ladders.

"I suppose. I'll make us a cup of coffee." She called up to him. She turned to leave the room but her attention was drawn back to her old notebooks. She was so engrossed in them that she didn't hear Charlie re-enter the room and come to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder.

He noticed his name a few times on the page and was intrigued. He hadn’t realised she’d kept a diary. “When did you write these?” He asked, making her jump.

"It started as a... um... way of tracking all the new skills I was learning..."

“Oh yeah? Nursing skills?”

"Yeh, so I'd have a list to show at interviews."

“And then?”

"And then I ended up not leaving the department." She joked, clearly misunderstanding his question on purpose.

“Read me a bit,” He said, settling down onto a cushion he found in the corner.

"Really?"

“Yup, I’m all ears!” He joked.

"Its really not that interesting..." She could tell by his face that he wasn't gunna let this go. "Most of the procedures are so outdated now."

Charlie wanted to know why his name had appeared multiple times on one page if it was all procedures. He didn’t want to push her too much but tried one last time. “I’m interested, the inner workings of the mind of younger Duffy...”

She flicked forward a few pages and held the book out to him. "Fine, try not to fall asleep..!"

He took the book from her. The page she had opened was a list of medical procedures that she had performed that day. Flicking backwards a few pages he found a page with heart doodles and some writing about a party they had both been at.

"Like I said - the silly ramblings of a foolish young girl."

Charlie lifted the book up to read aloud... “When I’m around him, I get butterflies. Last night, we spent the whole night talking in the kitchen at this party, he makes me feel so relaxed and yet equally excited. Small problem is he’ll never go for me, I’m too young and he’s my boss but I can’t stop thinking about him.” Charlie looked up. “I didn’t know you felt like that...”

"Maybe I should have insisted you get your eyes tested sooner if that's the case!"

“Okay, maybe a little! Well, I think it’s lovely and you should keep them."

"I intend to." She blushed a deeper shade of red. "That's not even the worst of it."

“Oh yeah..? Did you write about when we first slept together in there? Where’s that?” He laughed, flicking through the pages!

"That's not in that book!" She reached into the box and pulled out a book with a lock on the side.

His eyes widened, he had only been joking. “Well, I hope it says how earth-shattering it was!”

"I can't remember what I wrote and I think I've lost the key." She laughed.

“Perhaps it’ll turn up in the rest of this.” He pointed to the remaining stuff.

"Either that or I'm sure you'll take a pair of bolt cutters to the lock!" She giggled.

“You know me so well,” Charlie laughed, reaching for her waist and pulling her towards him.

"You're getting distracted..." She chided.

He nodded, staring directly into her green eyes, the tension between them electric, even after all this time.

"Once all the boxes are sorted you can have all the fun you like." She promised with a cheeky smile.

“But there are sooo many boxes,” He moaned “And you did say we could have regular breaks...” He ran his hand up her back as he reached down to kiss the side of her neck.

"I know I did but I really don't want to spend all day in here."

Charlie realised his usual powers of persuasion were not working. He stuck out his bottom lip, pretending to be sad before turning towards another box.

"You really think I'm gunna fall for that face after all these years?" She smirked as she also grabbed another box.

“I hoped you might anyway.” He smiled at her. Turning back to the box, he struggled to open the lid, the thick parcel tape making it impossible to open with his hands.

"Want me to fetch the scissors?" She suggested.

“No worries, I’ll get them. What's in here?”

"I don't know. Is it one of my boxes?"

“I imagine so.” He laughed. When he returned with the scissors, he found her kneeling next to a box, looking puzzled.

"What are these? They're not mine."

Looking at what she was holding in her hands, he felt his face flush red.

"Well..?" She pressed.

“Are you sure they aren’t yours? I...” He looked flustered.

"I'm sure I'd know if they were." She asserted, a small grin pulling at her lips as she watched his discomfort grow.

“Duffy, I honestly don’t know what, who, where.” He stuttered, uncomfortable.

"Well there's been so many over the years I guess it's not surprising that one of them accidentally left something behind." She laughed.

“Hey! There wasn’t that many... I just don’t understand where they’re from...” He was still puzzled.

"There were enough for me to lose count..."

He wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear, “But only one you, Duffy.”

"Charmer." She chuckled.

“I mean it,” he kissed her ear.

She dropped the item in the bag to be binned. "At least they appear to be clean. Well I really hope they are." She pulled a face.

Charlie pulled the same face back, attempting a smile at her, but she was on a mission.

"Anything else like that in there?" She asked.

“I better take a look...” He took the box from her. His eyes widened, when he realised what else was in there.

Seeing the look on his face Duffy attempted to peer over his shoulder but Charlie blocked her view.

“I think we’ll just put this box in the bin.” He said shutting the lid, he’d seen enough.

"No, come on, what else is in there. I didn't get further than the pair of lacy knickers." She pouted.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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anxietysroomsupport · 5 years

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(1/2) So.. I have a problem. I’m Genderfluid, I’m pretty much absolutely sure, but I.. feel different attractions? Like sometimes when I feel more masc. I’m attracted to boys more that girls. But I like girls the other times?? Idk. I just. Don’t know. I don’t know if I’m just confused or this doesn’t make me valid or this means I’m bi or what I just don’t know. I also feel like I hate my real name but that’s probably just a personal thing unrelated. There’s so much shit happening right now

(2/2) and I just feel bad. I might have depression or anxiety on top of my Genderfluid stuff and I’m so confused and I don’t understand anything anymore. I’m always exhausted but I can’t fall asleep, and every single night I feel like shit, and sometimes I’ll just be laying in bed and I’ll start freaking out and heavy breathing and all that Jazz (panic attack?) sometimes with a motive and sometimes not. I’m so confused with that as well as my identity.. I also might be touch starved/disassociateHiya anon! It sounds like you're going through a lot, and I'm so sorry you're having to cope with all of that.Sexuality and attraction can be hard to figure out, it's more of a spectrum than neat little boxes. It's not always black and white, and it's perfectly ok to be confused. Lots of people have no idea how they identify, and some decide they don't need a label, that they'll just take however they feel as it comes. I promise that you don't have to put so much pressure on yourself to know. However you feel is valid. You might be bi with a fluctuating preference. You might decide to use the label 'queer' if it feels more right for you.If you have accepting friends/family, you could try asking them to try calling you a preferred name to see if that makes you more comfortable. You could maybe use a nickname and ask them to refer to you by that name? If that's not an option right now, remember that one day you'll have the freedom to go by whatever name you want.Anxiety and/or depression are difficult things to have to cope with, and I definitely suggest talking to someone you trust about it. If you have access to a GP or therapist, talking it through with a professional could help, and they'll be able to discuss ways to help manage and cope. Personally, I find listening to music or doodling/writing encouraging messages on myself helps my anxiety. I'll also link some resources here that you'll hopefully find helpful:https://www.psychology.org.au/for-the-public/Psychology-Topics/Anxiety?Redirected=truehttp://disintegratedsanity.tumblr.com/post/34387827771/tips-and-tricks-for-dealing-with-anxietyhttp://disintegratedsanity.tumblr.com/post/34387304211/how-to-cope-with-depressionhttps://www.helpguide.org/mental-health.htmAt night, it could be the apprehension of an anxiety attack that triggers you to actually have one. If you can, try and distract yourself with positive thoughts, or things that make you feel safe. You could fill out a notebook with encouraging/calm messages and read it before bed. Read a fun novel and think about it as you go to sleep. It also helps some people to try and fall asleep listening to gentle music, meditation videos or podcasts. If you find yourself in the middle of an anxiety attack, chances are you're gonna be so shaken up you're not gonna be able to go back to sleep for a bit. Maybe get up and try doing a small task to distract yourself, avoiding electronics if you can. Do some yoga, or doodle for a bit. Make yourself a hot, non-caffeinated drink (chamomile tea is supposed to be pretty good, if you can stand the taste.) If this is ongoing, I'd suggest talking to your GP, and maybe you'll be prescribed sleeping pills or anxiety medication.For dissociation, try and familiarise yourself with grounding techniques. The name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste is a good one.I hope this helps, we're here if you need us xxxGood luck~ Clover

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stealthpoptarts · 5 years

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Random Long Writing Post Time

Okay so I don’t normally make these, but I’m both bored and procrastinating from. Actually working on my book. Which I’ve started over like five times. I think I finally got it right, so hopefully no redoing the entire plot and so on.

Anyways, I’m a pretty weird person, and so I’m not sure if anybody else thinks like this. But here I go anyway. I’m going to talk about character development. NOT character development arcs in writing or other media, because I don’t feel qualified to write about it? And I have a bad habit of not finishing things? No, I’m gonna talk about all the developing and thought and detail that you put into your character before writing, drawing, etc them. The stuff that you might know, but that might never show up or even directly relate to their story.

This includes, for some examples, why they have the name they do, why they might wear their hair a certain way, how they drink their coffee, how they might react to hypothetical situations that have zero relevance to the book/story/whatever, that one time they got lost on the subway, that one person they met that one time who told them that one thing, why they get upset about xyz thing, why they disagree with x but not y, and so on and so on. All the research into whatever you need to research to be able to write accurately and correctly. Basically. A lot.

The way that I have always looked at it is that this information is already out there. All this stuff, knowledge, scenarios, the characters and their friends and families and loved ones, already exists somewhere out there in multiverse. Or maybe in this universe, although I hope not because several of them would punch my lights out if they could. But all of it is real somewhere, somehow, and I just need to find it somehow or another.

That means a lot of my writing is instinct, does this feel right? Would they really act this way confronted with this? What about this?

It also means that if anything, anything at all catches my attention and/or makes me think/reminds me very strongly of one, specific character... I pay attention. It usually stands out for a reason, and if I can figure out why and make myself accept the reason (whether I like what I’m thinking or not), then it saves a lot of trouble in the long run.

This is how I’ve developed almost every character, and half the time I’m not sure that I’m completely sane or that I’m making any sense or going about things the right way at all. A lot of it’s just random, spur of the moment thoughts and ideas.

Half the time I’ll start writing a scene with an idea in my head of how it will happen, who will say what, etc., and then actually sit down to write the scene only to find that the characters had an entirely different idea in mind. This happens more than I like to admit, and I almost always like “their” version better than what I thought of originally. But it happens less and less the more I write. I take that to mean I’m getting better at writing. I hope.

I seize on completely random things, objects, ideas, I make completely random off the cuff jokes. I reference one particular detail over and over again. And then, it just sticks. Like how one grain of sand inevitably changes, however minutely, the entire pile when it’s added, everything added to them changes my characters just a little bit.

Why does Luke like to cook? I wrote a joke story during a class when I finished all my work early. He got high*, ate all his friends food, “borrowed” his car while he was sleeping, bought an air horn (with $5 he found in the car), and woke him up with it at exactly 12:00am on April first. What does that have to do with cooking? Well things got more and more complicated from there. With the first things I write, I sometimes end up with more questions than answers.

Why was he high? Because he smoked something or other (in this particular story, weed. I even had a friend check that it was accurate cause I do not have experience with being high on anything, nor do I want to). Why? Because he was bored, and he had some with him. Why did he have any to begin with, on a random sleepover? Why did he even start in the first place? He self-medicates, and a whole host of other reasons on top of that, not all of which he’s conscious of. So, being high on weed, he’d get the munchies. He also loves doing and making things for other people, but never has a lot of money or resources. And he wants an easier, better way to cope. What do all these lead to? Learning to cook when he was still in middle school. It turns into something he loves doing just to do it, regardless of anything else.

In other cases, it really is completely random and/or not entirely under my control.

For example, Luke especially loves making pastries. And has an unusual love of poptarts. How did this happen? Well in the story mentioned above, he eats all his friend’s poptarts, and his friend (understandably, having had several unopened boxes at that time) was upset about this. My friends, who I had shown the story to, thought that the inclusion of this detail was especially funny. Luke stealing the poptarts anytime he was over there and eating every one became a running joke between me and my friends, in our roleplays, and eventually in other stories I wrote about these two characters. This also helped lead to the love of cooking I came up with later.

I wrote this story three or four years ago, and while other parts aren’t entirely accurate to the character(s) involved, these ones are. And stealing the poptarts is still a running, inside joke.

Sometimes it’s, loosely or more directly, based on a dream I had. Or something I doodled or drew because I was bored, and couldn’t think of anything else to draw.

For example, Ichiko’s pyromania. The very first time anything involving this character and fire was a strange dream I had, and it was strange for two reasons: one, it had actually had and followed a cohesive storyline, and two, my character(s) showed up in it. The second has only happened one other time that I remember.

They, random dream-people, and me, and Luke, Ichiko, and Dyllan were also there, were stuck in a large underground maze. Think underground brick labyrinth, unused/abandoned mall/subway tunnels, old greenhouses, high school gyms and auditoriums, movie theaters and movie theater concessions stands, complete with mysterious, unspoiled food and drinks. Basically a hodge-podge of places stuck together.

I don’t remember any other part of this dream, and probably only remember this because I later drew it. But there was one point were Ichiko grew frustrated and punched the wall. I don’t know why I remembered that scene specifically, but I do. It may be part of why, later on, his character grew to have a short temper. Another time they were, I don’t know why, trying to get the sprinklers to come on. So they found a bottle of vodka or whiskey somewhere, and he blew fire at them. I drew the fire-breathing part later on, and my friends joked about him being a pyromaniac. And that, for some reason, stuck.

I avoided writing about or considering that aspect of his character until later, though. One because it really had started as just a joke. And, later, two, because I was uncomfortable thinking about the ramifications and problems that arise with an unhealthy obsession with fire. And why he might’ve developed or had such an obsession.

A lot of what I think up or decide or discover about my characters boils down to one question, though, and that’s why. And the answer I give, or even that they give, could be very, very simple. But that’s only on the surface. It’s always, always more complicated than that.

There are also always contradictions. Two characters remember the same event differently, or believe and struggle with two contradicting ideas. Two aspects of their personality are at conflict with each other, and this causes problems. Nothing is ever as simple as A + B = C.

Delarin is obsessed with control, but he is at the same time wildly unpredictable and chaotic. He wants as much control over any given situation, his surroundings, events, and even other people, as possible, but he can’t even really control himself.

Dyllan believes that he is a normal, even (mostly) functional person. He doesn’t believe or doesn’t want to believe that he has any problems. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it, and its what he tells himself everyday. But at the same time, he struggles with addiction and he knows this. He knows he should quit, or at least try and cut back, but that would be an admission of there being a problem in the first place. He hates crowds, he hates the feeling that someone, anyone, is watching what he’s doing. But he can’t stand to be alone, it is terrifying to him. He wants to pretend certain things haven’t really happened, or if they did, that they don’t affect him, but he still needs to have at least one light on. He can’t work in his apartment, it’s too empty, he always ends up in a busy, crowded, public space.

Another thing that I’ve learned is that I can’t avoid certain aspects of a character’s personality just because they make me uncomfortable. The character always ends up losing dimension and focus, and I have more and more trouble writing about them until I confront what I’ve been avoiding. There aren’t any shortcuts, or loopholes. Either I consider and include everything when deciding or figuring out a character’s actions, or I don’t write anything at all.

In conclusion, cause this is getting way too long, here are the basics. The TL;DR I guess.

Consider everything, big or small, important or not, that shapes a character. Everything has an effect on them as a person, and therefore an effect on what their actions or reactions will be in any given scenario.

Everything is complicated and complex in real life, so if you want realistic characters, everything has to be just as complicated and messy. If the answer to any “why?” you might ask is only a sentence or two long, you may (or maybe not, this is just how I do things. I don’t judge) have some more thinking to do.

Names are important, and, if you have to change it, think carefully about how changing the name will end up changing your character also.

Don’t avoid aspects or parts of a character or characters’ personality just because they make you uncomfortable. If you’d rather not write while keeping every piece of them in mind, maybe write a different character.

This probably won’t work for you, or maybe it will, or maybe you already do things the exact same way that I do. I don’t know. I think of characters almost as real people. Not literally, but in the sense that they teach me as much about themselves as I come up with on my own, if not more. I’ll sit down to write, and they’ll (figuratively speaking) go, ‘hey, by the way...’ I can’t change this, I’ve tried. I know there is at least one or two published authors who do the same. So I thought that maybe I’d write this in case there’s anyone out there who feels awkward or weird or as though they’re doing things wrong, just in case. Because with writing, and just art in general, there really is no right or wrong way of doing things, no matter what some people might tell you.

#random #writing #long post #text post #talking poptarts #characters #ocs #stuff #i dunno #i was supposed to be writing #i'm just avoiding stuff now #writng #for example #and bed #sleep #i gotta be ready to go places at 11 tomorrow but here i am and it's like 1 am #welcome constructive criticism and feedback please and thanks #yeah #i'm tired i'm gonna go to bed

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luntian-berdengguhit · 7 years

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Here, @soar319 I made a doodle for this one. Ahaha! Happy New Year, you made Gabe cry, thanks and you’re welcome! >x’DDD

Soar319: This shit i thought of while listening to shelter by porter robinson & madeon, both the original and cover by Juby and lemme tell you I probably cried a little inside. It’s sad but has a happy ending I promise bro I mean one is happier than the other but still HAPPY ENDING PROMISE

Lúcio and Gabby are happy together, planning to live together and all that cute stuff when the war is over but Gabe dies before that can become reality, leaving behind his mask with some black smoke billowing around it

Lúcio is heartbroken, and the team lets him off missions for a while. He takes the upmost care of the mask, keeping it safe inside a box in his room that he dusts regularly. He doesn’t listen to music and doesn’t go look at the stars until Hana forces him to, going up to the roof and feeling like the stars aren’t as bright as they were

He turns on crossfade, seeing no numbers inside the two icons cause nobody was around. But he blinks when a little one shows up, sitting up to see who was there. But nobody was around… the one remains, Lúcio guessing that maybe it was a bug in his tech.

He leaves early from dinner one night, sitting at the bench that Gabe always liked to play his guitar at. Pulls up crossfade, expecting to hear his songs, but instead a guitar melody flows out with the little one appearing again. Gabe is still there, he’s the one listening, he’s still watching over Lúcio.

In battle, Lúcio always sees the little one, encouraging him to go on. He swears that there’s black smoke around him whenever he’s on the brink of death, giving him just enough strength to amp it up or get to a health pack. At base, the little one is always there, Lúcio smiling whenever he feels something like talons brushing across his arm or something wisping right across his lips

When the Crisis ended and Overwatch was no longer needed, he sits alone at the hangar waiting for his plane to pick him up to return home to rio. The little one is still there, Lúcio softly telling Gabe that overwatch is over, he doesn’t need to worry about him, you can rest in peace. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them the one is gone now. Gabriel isn’t listening anymore. He turns off his music, wiping away a tear.

He boards the plane, flies out and reunites with family, laughing happily and hugging them, how he has missed them! His little siblings are so excited to hear his stories of kicking ass and see his kit, lucio taking out the earpiece and showing them his crossfade ability. He stops as he sees that it’s 6 people listening

His mother, father, older sis, two siblings… who was the sixth? It couldn’t be…

His little bro asks why Lúlu is crying, big bro what’s wrong?? Lúlu shakes his head, nothing’s wrong, he’s actually so happy… he lives with the extra number on his visor, smiling whenever he sees slightly darker shadows in his room or feels gabe’s presence around him. but one day the extra number is gone and doesn’t return. He guesses that Gabe finally moved to rest, and continues living

Lúlu goes into a full fledged panic as he realizes the mask was gone one day, scouring his bedroom top to bottom along with the entire house. His family doesn’t know anything, Lúlu devastated as he realizes the last big piece of Gabe is gone. He shakes his head and continues on, at least he still has the beanie and a little skull charm…

One day while he’s making lunch with his big sis for his siblings the door has a few knocks. His sis goes over to answer it, Lúlu curious as when she yells for him as the person knew him. He thinks that it’s probably Hana or Lena, washing his hands and walking over while fixing his dreads. He stops dead in his tracks as he sees who was at the doorway, eyes wide.

Gabriel, with the mask strapped to his side, was standing there clear as day, a smile on his face. He gives a little wave, Lúcio’s sis blinking as Lúlu barrels into the man sobbing giant tears, hugging tight as hell with Spanish and Portuguese sputtering out. Gabriel holds Lúlu still and plants a long overdue kiss, Lúlu crying giant happy tears, oh my god how are you alive, it’s been so long, come in come in!!

The smoke around the mask was still Gabe, and usually with injuries it takes maybe a week or two to patch up; with the damage Gabe hit, it took quite a while to properly regenerate a body back, but he finally did it, and is back. Along with lucio playing his healing music sped the process up a little, and now they can live together, cuddle and kisses and Gabe gets to meet lulu’s family ———– The other version is lulu dies, he went too far to try to protect the team and while they won the crucial mission, it came at the cost of lulu. Gabe is furious, sad, and guilty, he should’ve protected his frog better but he couldn’t. He takes a break from Overwatch, going on an alone vacation to have some quiet time away from the team.

He listens to lucios songs, sitting at the ilios lighthouse and dorado rooftops reliving the memories he had with lulu. The more memories and moments he recalls, the more he realizes that no, Lúlu would have smacked him and told him to believe, this ain’t the Gabe that laughs in the face of danger and powers right through every obstacle. Returns to overwatch and resumes missions.

A mission comes around, and Gabe dives to take a rocket blow to save McCree. He widens his eyes as he hears the faintest sounds of Rejuvenescência, no… it couldn’t be… The team widens their eyes as they hear it too, wounds slowly healing up. They turn their sights onto the objective, rushing in to capture it; they feel a speed boost, an all too familiar song right on the tips of their ears as they rush in, a victory on the mission.

Gabe knows that lulu is still there, fighting with them. He goes to lulu’s grave, sitting down and closing his eyes. He lets his soul appear, and hears a frog croaking; lulu’s soul, a frog that’s ribbit ribbit and singing, hopping left and right. He’s there, energetic as ever, smiling and laughing. How did he miss at laugh…

Whenever he’s alone he would close his eyes and there’s Lúlu, smiling and encouraging him. Gabe feels a little bit better, knowing that his audio medic is there, even if he can’t see him. Each mission the team always has one extra support, always seemingly giving just enough health for them to win, the faintest music playing in the background of their earpieces

Their final mission, Gabe crashing to the ground and struggling to get up; he could hear he yells of the other heroes, sounds of defeat coming closer and closer. What chance do they have? They can’t possibly win…

“You gotta believe! Keep your head up, Gabby!”

With sudden surge of energy, Gabe goes in, each hero rejuvenated and ready to win. The fight is long and difficult, but they all pull through, victory sweetly granted. As overwatch is disbanded, Amelie asks where Gabe is going to go. He doesn’t know, looking out to the cliffs of Gibraltar. Move back to LA? Travel around the world? Go with his old friends or go with his ex-talon buddies? He shrugs, deciding to stay at Gibraltar for a bit till he has decided.

It’s a bit lonely staying at the base alone, the rooms all empty and hardly any sound echoing through the hallways. He wonders if perhaps he should live a life of solitude, maybe being alone is the best course of action. He continues to stay in Gibraltar, till a sound echoes down the hall. It’s coming from lucios room. Music.

Gabe cautiously goes over and opens up the door, the room empty like every other room. But a phone was playing music, sitting in the center of the room. His phone. How did it get here…? Gabe picks it up, looking at the track it was playing. A playlist he doesn’t remember downloading… he goes to delete it, but then he sees the title

It’s from Lúlu. He looks at the songs once more, eight songs, all made by Lúlu. The seven first songs, the first letters… Eu te amo it spells out. Gabe looks at the last song, a jumble of numbers and letters. He plays it, and he hears a new song. He didn’t even realize he was crying, as he hears the faintest whispers of lulu singing, saving the playlist.

Gabe isn’t alone, he doesn’t need to live alone. Lúlu is always there, his sweet frog, his audio medic. He closes his eyes once more, and there’s lúlu’s soul again, hopping around and singing his heart out. Gabe sees Lúlu, and holds his own soul, the owl softly hooting. Live life, Gabby. The fighting is over, you can rest easy now. And Gabe finally decides where he was going to go. But wherever he goes, he finds comfort in knowing that he isn’t alone, Lúlu is there, always playing music and hopping around.

And when he finally dies, he can hear the music waiting for him, Lúlu smiling and laughing like always.

I love this. ;u; Thanks for the lovely fic, man! Always. ;U;<333 Love the part where Gabe cried. I just HHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNGGG DUUUUUUUDE.

#soar319 #Overwatch #Reaper #Lucio #luciper #ow Lucio #ow Reaper #Gabriel Reyes #Lucio Correia Dos Santos #ow fic #fics #keepsake #submissions #AAaaaaahh <3333 #Overwatch fanart #Berdengguhit's fanart #submission

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omgbigfluffwriting · 4 years

Text

Sealed With A Kiss Chapter 1

[Spencer's POV]

I still remembered the call I had gotten from my soulmate's mother as I was working on my Chemistry doctorate when my color vision wavered, telling me that Gabby had been in a near fatal car accident and had been put into a medically induced coma to save her life.

"Spencer, it pains me to ask this of you since you're Gabby's soulmate but I'm going to need you to stay away from her. She's in that coma for a reason." I agreed immediately. I loved Gabby and would do anything for her. I assumed the coma was keeping her alive since the color in my vision never wavered again.

Since I liked teaching, I'd gotten a job at Georgetown University for a couple of semesters teaching Criminology and it could be a permanent job if I wanted it. So I was shocked to see the love of my life walk into the classroom, ask Ruby if anyone was sitting next to her and when Ruby replied in the negative, sat down.

Suddenly, the room filled and the bell rang. "Good morning, I am Dr. Spencer Reid and welcome to Criminology. Professor Clarke needed to step away, so I am covering for her the next two semesters." I started handing out the copies of the class syllabus as I continued talking.

When I reached Gabby, I mentally tested her telepathy. There was a blockage keeping me from mentally talking to her, so I move on.

I took attendance and I know that my voice was a little strange when I called out her name.

[Gabriella's POV]

That day I was determined to be early. When I was a child, my best friend Spencer Reid described me as a chicken with its head cut off due to my spacing out. He never meant it to be cruel, just a matter of fact.

Criminology was my second class of the day, after English. Professor Clarke was supposed to be teaching it and nobody took it seriously... at least those who weren't studying Criminal Law like I was.

However, when I walked into the classroom...I didn't see the middle-aged woman I knew to be Professor Clarke. Standing at the whiteboard was a tall, skinny man, with shoulder length messy brown hair wearing black slacks with a purple vest, lilac dress shirt and white tie. His converse shoes made him look younger than he was. Somehow, he seemed familiar.

There were a few girls already present in the room. I took my seat next to a girl in blue named Ruby Darley. We introduced ourselves and Ruby whispered, "What do you want to bet that most of these girls are not majoring in Criminal justice?"

"Hm, let me get back to you on that." I whispered back. "Wait, why do you ask?" I asked.

"Wait until the professor turns around." Ruby said with a grin. I raised my eyebrow at her. By this time the classroom was full. The professor turned around and looked at all of us. He had large hazel eyes which looked brown, honey brown to be exact and looked like he should be a model, rather than a college professor.

"Good morning, I am Dr. Spencer Reid and welcome to Criminology. Professor Clarke needed to step away, so I am covering for her the next two semesters." He started handing out our copies of the class syllabus as he continued talking. His name tickled my memory but I'd had an accident in my junior year of high school that I almost died from so my childhood memories and early teen years were pretty fuzzy. One could say that they were good as deleted.

When he got to me, he handed me the syllabus but his eyes narrowed. I raised my eyebrow at him, hoping I wasn't being rude. Apparently, I didn't have what he was looking for, because he continued to hand out syllabuses.

"What was that about?" Ruby whispered to me. I shrugged as Doctor Reid went back to the front of the class. He took attendance and his voice was a little strange when he called out my name.

"Present," I say as I doodle on my writing notebook.

Dr. Reid thoughtfully nodded and wrote something down on his piece of paper.

[Spencer's POV]

After class, I wanted to call Gabby up and see why she didn't recognize me. But she slipped out before I had the chance. So I found myself contacting Garcia to do a search for the girl I loved. "You've reached the all-knowing BAU Oracle." Garcia said.

"Hi Garcia do you have a moment?" I asked. I heard Garcia snort.

"For you, 187, I have all the time in the world." Garcia joked. "What do you need Doc?" I take a deep breath. I hope that wherever she is, she's happy.

"I need you to look up someone for me. Her name is Gabriella Chambers, born May 19th 1983." I heard Garcia's fingers type rapidly.

"It says here that she's living in Washington D.C. right now and attending the university that you're teaching at, Boy Wonder." Garcia reported. "Her grades are impeccable. I'm not going to lie, I'm impressed, 187." Garcia's voice sounded impressed with Gabby's grades. I was impressed myself since she had always struggled with Math during childhood.

I nodded. Then, realizing she can’t see me: "Could you dig into her medical records? She should have recognized me today." I asked. Garcia made a noise of assent and typed even more.

I was about to hang up when she said, "Oh my God. She was involved in a car accident her junior year of high school and would've died if it hadn't been for the three year medically induced coma doctors put her through. As a result, she has extreme retrograde amnesia and the doctors don't expect her childhood and early teen memories to return." I felt a rock fall to the pit of my stomach. So all the memories I shared with her were just gone, like they never happened?

What about that pact we made when she was 5 and I was 7, if we were both over 30 and single that we'd marry each other? Did she truly not remember our first kiss when I was 16?

"You're in love with her." Garcia cut into my reverie. "I'm sorry 187. I didn't think... well if you can't get her memories to return, there's always a blank slate you can start with." Tears fell down my face. I did not want to start afresh with her. Yet I may have to.

I start putting away my things in order to get ready to leave when the door opened and Gabby walked in. She approached me cautiously, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Reid, but you seem awfully familiar to me and I can't place meeting you anywhere."

I could work with 'awfully familiar'! "Actually . . . we were childhood friends." I said and pulled the picture of us when she was 7 and I was 9 out of my messenger bag for proof. I was pushing her on a swing in the picture.

"I don't remember." She said sadly and handed the picture of us back to me. "I was in an accident and have problems with my long term memories." I bit my lip.

"Would you like to come back to my apartment with me? I have the letters you wrote me before we lost contact." I offered but she shook her head.

"No, it's okay. I just wanted to know why you were so familiar." She said. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then she was gone.

----

[Gabby's POV]

I rushed home. There was no way in hell that I'd known Dr. Reid during the period of time that I was missing... I dug out what I called my photography box. On the top was the very same picture that Dr. Reid had shown me. It must have been a favorite of mine. I was astonished to find a handful of pictures that contained the two of us and a bunch of letters tied with a length of ribbon. My mother had saved every letter he'd written me.

The letters indicated that we were close, probably close enough to eventually fall in love with the other. I could see me doing that. Dr. Reid was attractive, definitely my type. I was so engrossed in the letters that if the knock on my door hadn't been as loud as it was, I would have missed it.

"Coming." I set my almost finished bundle of Dr. Reid's letters on top of my bed and answered the door. Dr. Reid was standing on my doorstep.

"I'm just a few doors down from you but . . . here." Dr. Reid handed me a second bundle that's tied with a baby blue ribbon. Mine was tied with a hot pink ribbon.

"Okay I'll get these back..." I started. "Keep them. I have an eidetic memory, so I can recall them whenever I want. See you tomorrow." He started to walk away but I caught his arm in time. He turned to look at me.

"I have the letters you wrote to me." I say. "You seem so... painfully different from when you wrote those letters. Tell me what happened?"

He starts to consider it but then freezes. "It'll be best for you to remain my student. I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Chambers." He said and yanked his arm from my grasp. I gasped at the unspoken consequence, that if I can't do that, then I should drop his class.

"Why are you being so cold?" I call after him. He doesn't answer. Anyways, have I already met my soulmate? I've always seen in color though there were a few times during 2006 that I blacked out for no reason at all...

---

[Spencer's POV]

I had to blink back tears as I head back to my own apartment. It's best for her if I remain Dr. Spencer Reid in her eyes. She'll be safer when I return to the BAU after my reinstatement requirements are met.

The moment I get into my apartment, I truly crumble to the floor and let go. It feels like I've lost the two women I have ever loved to tragic fates - Maeve because she was murdered and Gabby because of a car accident. Technically, I didn't lose Gabby, she was still alive but the amnesia was worse than death in my opinion. I wondered what had made her lose such a big amount of her long-term memories. I had been such an integral part of her childhood...

It would be better to keep my distance and let her marry someone else who can keep her safe from the monsters I face on a daily basis.

[Spencer's POV]

The next morning I walked into the Criminology class to see that Gabby was the first student in the classroom, going over an assignment I had handed out yesterday for homework. She looked up and then looked back down at the paper.

"Need help?" I asked her. She shook her head. I wandered over to her desk. The classroom was empty and I owed her an explanation about my behavior last night. "Look," I murmured. "Last night was a..."

"Disaster seems like a good word for it," Gabby said, looking up sternly and giving me a pissed look. I sighed.

"The thing is, I'm trying to protect you." She looked up at me with impatience. "Have you ever heard of the Behavioral Analysis Unit?" I asked, looking at her.

"Who hasn't?" Gabby asked. "They're the nation's elite at criminal profiling." I nod.

"I'm part of that unit. I've put countless criminals away who would love to hurt you to get to me. It's safer for you if we keep the relationship to that of teacher and student." I admitted, not for the first time.

"Safer..." Gabby snorted. "Dr. Reid, I read all of your letters that you sent me before my accident last night. There's no way in hell that I'll believe you're capable of staying at a teacher/student relationship with me." The door opened and I returned to the front, clearly pissed off. Ruby Darley walked in as I faced the whiteboard to hide my expression, furiously writing.

"Wow, Dr. Reid looks pissed. Did one of those girls proposition him?" I wanted to turn around and tell Ms. Darley I could hear her but considering the argument Gabby and I just had, it wasn't a good idea.

"No, Dr. Reid's mad at me." I hear Gabby say as she opened her notebook.

"You didn't!" Ms. Darley said in shock. "Quite frankly, I didn't have you pegged as one of the girls who would actually go and f**k a professor for the hell of it."

"I didn't proposition him," Gabby says through her teeth. "It was over something else."

I now turned around and said, "Ms. Darley, what occurred between Ms. Chambers and I is quite naturally between us. If she chooses to tell you, she may but please refrain from making comments like that." I resume my writing but still listened in. The girls changed the subject.

"I can't believe that assignment Professor Callaghan gave us today for English," Ruby complained.

"Well, we are reading Anne of Avonlea." I hear Gabby say with a snort. "I went through the papers my mom saved from my elementary school days." I wonder if she's saying this for my benefit... "There was this boy I had a crush on. I wrote him a letter based on the Anne books."

"Did you ever give it to him?" Ruby asked.

"No, I was too shy to give him the letter in that instance," Gabby says. I'd never thought of her being shy.

"So what's going on between you and Dr. Reid?" I kind of wanted to know myself, so I listened.

"Childhood friends and I don't remember him," Gabby answered a bit tersely. "He was acting like a jackass last night." I raised an eyebrow at her comment.

"So would you?" Ruby asked. I wondered what Ruby was asking Gabby.

Some sort of nonverbal exchange must've happened because I heard, "Hell no!" I turned around and raised an eyebrow at the two women. Ruby wrote something down and passed it to Gabby.

"C'mon, he's clearly listening and I don't feel like explaining myself." She hissed.

"It's a yes or no question, Gabby." Ruby said, giving her a look.

"Drop *it* !" Gabby hissed again as I was just about to come over to their table to see what was written on the paper sitting between them like a high school teacher.

"You're not getting out of answering." Ruby says as she puts the note away and the classroom fills.

#Criminal Minds #fanfiction #dr. spencer reid #dr. spencer reid x fem!oc

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