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#the photos are so nice but...the editing on them was so subpar LOL
joshuahong · 4 years
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HENG:GARAE - Seventeen 7th Mini Album | Hana Version
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its-opheliasgarden · 2 years
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hey! i love love love looking at your page, i was just wondering, how do you take game screenshots and cause them to come out so nicely?
Awww, thanks so much for your sweet message! Means more than you know considering I think my editing skills are still pretty subpar, lol. Here are some tips I've learned from other simmers to help me get nice photos in-game. I tried my best to summarize it in 5 easy steps! Step 5 is optional. See below the cut. 
(1) In-Game Settings: I think this one is obvi but my settings are all on High. My graphics card also helps do but it’s not the greatest to be honest (ATI Radeon RX 570). I’d recommend going with NVIDIA if you are ever in the market for one. 
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(2) In-Game Time: I exclusively take photos between 12 PM - 3 PM in the game. This is when I get the best lighting on majority of lots and worlds. MrsTomato1018 from the Sims Forum actually made this extensive map of lots with the best lighting for thumbnail shots, but I actually use it to determine where to take photos. You can manipulate time in-game using UI Cheats Extension Mod by @weebesu (it’s in military time).  
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(3) Reshade Settings: I’m currently using Reshade 4.8.0. My favorite that I use in majority of my screenshots is Gia Reshade by the uber talented @kindlespice. I don’t play with the settings too much. If you have any questions about Reshade, highly recommend checking out @pictureamoebae tutorials here. They have helped me get better with learning how to use Reshade. 
(4) Simple Runtime Window Editor (SRWE): This program manipulates the size of your window will playing the Sims to get greater photo resolution. @katverse made this awesome tutorial on how to use this tool and it’s super straightforward. I use 3000x3000  resolution which is a perfect square for screenshots.
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(5) Photo Editor (Optional): I don’t use any fancy editing software like Adobe Photoshop. I have GIMP, but prefer Canva’s user-friendly interface to quickly edit photos by dragging a few sliders. I do pay for premium since I use it for other non-Sims related projects, but it is free web software and the photo editing settings are available and not a premium feature. Specifically, I use the Blur, Vibrance, and Clarity settings the most. I change these setting all the time though especially if I use a different Reshade. 
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Hope this helps! If you have any questions, reach out again! 
- d. 
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yelenasdog · 4 years
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it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)
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genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk
summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.
words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)
warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong. 
a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE
🂦∙🂦∙🂦
Present Day, Central Park, New York
“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.
“Aren’t they, agents?”
She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.
“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”
We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.
6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia
“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”
My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.
“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.
“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”
Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”
I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.
“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”
Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.
“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”
Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.
“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”
4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York
“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”
I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.
“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”
I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”
Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.
“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”
Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.
“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.
I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.
“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.
“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.
“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”
I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.
“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.
“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”
Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.
“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”
I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.
In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.
As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.
I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.
About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.
“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.
“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”
He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.
“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”
A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.
“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”
With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.
“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.
“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”
“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.
“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”
I smiled widely at his words.
“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”
I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.
“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”
——————
“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”
“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”
Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.
“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”
Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.
“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”
I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.
“Agent?”
I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.
I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.
“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”
It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.
“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”
“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.
“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”
I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.
“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”
“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.
“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.
“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”
“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”
I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.
After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              
“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”
I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.
“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.
He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.
“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”
I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.
“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.
“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”
“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.
“You like animals, right?”
———————
4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York
As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”
I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.
“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”
“Yes I did.”
His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.
“Well did you know that-“
“Ma’am?”
I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.
“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”
Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.
“What can I do for you two?”
“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.
“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”
“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”
Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.
“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“
“Look,”
Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.
“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”
She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.
I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.
The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.
I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.
“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.
“Hello, do you by any chance-“
wham!
“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.
“Did she get away?”
I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.
“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.
“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.
————————
F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier
The stress levels in the room were high.
Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.
“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.
He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.
“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”
I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.
“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”
I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.
I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.
I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.
Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.
“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.
“Y/n?”
It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.
“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”
It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.
“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”
My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.
“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”
I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.
“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”
A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.
“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”
He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.
I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.
“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”
He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.
“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.
“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”
I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.
“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”
My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.
“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”
I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.
His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.
“It’s not, I promise you-“
He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.
“I am so, so sorry-”
I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.
“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.
I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.
His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.
“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”
He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.
“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”
And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.
“Let’s go get her.”
————————
15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York
“Hotch?”
“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.
“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.
“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.
The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.
“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”
He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.
“And that’s an order.”
I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.
After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.
The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.
“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”
The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.
“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”
The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.
“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”
I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.  
“Oh shut up.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
snap!
Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.
“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.
I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.
“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”
The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.
My breathing momentarily halted soon after.
Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.
Red. So much of it.
“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”
“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.
She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.
“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”
Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.
—————————
Present Day, Central Park, New York
“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”
Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.
“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”
She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.
We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.
“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”
She smirked, rolling her eyes.
“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”
Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.
“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.
“You want to be famous?”
She nodded vigorously.
“Too bad.”
My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.
“What-what do you mean?”
“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.
“You? You’ll be a nobody.”
“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.
“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”
Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.
“You know, Agent-“
“It’s Doctor.”
This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.
“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”
A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.
“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”
As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.
I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.
Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.
“Spence, please.”
My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.
She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.
“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”
“No!”
bang!
whack!
--------------------- 
Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet
I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.
I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.
“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,
“What happened to him?”
“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“
“I don’t care you should have let him!”
I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.
“Y/n?”
My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.
“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”
He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.
“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”
I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.
“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”
The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.
“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘
I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.
“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”
“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”
“Hey!”
He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.
“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.
“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”
I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.
“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”
He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.
“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.
He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.
“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”
He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.
“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“
I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.
“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”
I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.
“No problem y/n. Anytime.”
I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”
I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.
“Without a doubt.”
🂦∙🂦∙🂦
AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile- 
i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳) 
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😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj
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the-warmest-hands · 7 years
Text
Weekend, week
Saturday: biked out to get spices because I’ve been craving indian food, and the places around me are questionable, and I don’t have money to gamble on mediocre food. Biked back after picking up stuff from Jai Ho Indian Grocery (Fillmore), stopped by Schubert’s to try their prinsesstårta and opera cake, then went to botanical garden to eat cake and watercolor. It was a very nice day, so there were a lot of people at the garden. Unfortunately for me, this meant a lot of people watching me paint a subpar painting. At one point I begrudgingly let some midwestern woman take a photo of me with my terrible and unfinished (it was gonna be terrible no matter what I suppose) painting. Biked home after a few shitty sketches because my butt hurt from sitting still for so long. Also I was excited to get started with spices! Followed a kachori recipe on youtube but somehow didn’t realize that I had to cook my lentil filling beforehand (the english subtitles said “soak for two hours” but it looked very cooked, in retrospect). I also figured they’d be mashable so I could forego grinding. Nope. I added spices and whatnot and cooked them in oil for a bit but they remained unsquishable and were pretty solid. I decided I’d dump everything in the food processor and grind it that way. Still nope. Food processor was unable to break up the solid lentils. So I adapted by throwing everything into a pot and cooking it for a while. I did try frying two kachori with the whole lentils (they weren’t hard, just whole) and that was okay! Then I tried frying one with the cooked-down lentils, but foolishly forgot that there was hella liquid in that, which meant that when I retrieved the fully-cooked kachori, the inside was soggy! This is why you cannot put wet stuff into flaky pastry. Anyway. Cooked down the lentils even more, until they were a dry paste, filled the rest of the dough, and fried them all for tomorrow. I ate three in total and was super full. I was actually full after just one (they are small! maybe 3/4 the size of my very small palm). Conclusion: need to adjust my spices (this combo didn’t *wow* me), and remember to cook the filling next time. Also, cilantro is fuckin everything. CILANTRO FOREVER. FOREVER CILANTRO.
Sunday: wait i don’t even remember lmao
oh yeah i talked to misha for a thousand hours
well, that’s every day HAHHAHAHA
oh i also fixed my website (or started fixing it?), and tried to figure out why my gifs weren’t looping infinitely in the browser, and then googled around, and discovered the magic of *hex editors* and that if you edit an image you can do *glitch art*! I always just thought it would straight up destroy the file if you did that. Anyway, tried to use hex editor to edit the gif to make it infinitely loop, but it did not work for most of my gifs. Weirdly, some gifs infinitely looped without any fiddling, and I am really not sure why. But now my website is updated with a bunch of garbage on it, some of which are gifs that loop and others not. Kool.
Monday: laps, tried to make dal puri and failed because I didn’t follow the instructions and my dough was wrong (fail).
Tuesday: laps, made some samosa filling to use up the dough. They were quite good. I ate all, of course. Also did a few pages from Form i Fokus övningsbok, and decided I need to learn more vocab, so I made myself a really dumb Chrome extension (lol welcome to 2007) that would allow me to set a word-of-the-day and then quiz me on it whenever I opened a new tab (I open a lot of new tabs). Could use a lot of upgrades but I’m done for today.
Wednesday: couldn’t fall asleep for a while last night (my feet were too cold), woke up very groggy, but got up anyway because I had to bake breakfast and lunch for later. I made scones. We will see how they are.
Edit: They were ok. Just returned from volunteering, which was dope, as usual. I repotted a jillion seedlings. Also checked on my seedlings from weeks prior and they are all flourishing! HURRAY! Also some fellow volunteers said I was super fast at repotting so now my goal is to be even faster. I am going to be the fastest repotter of all seedlings, and I am going to have a survival rate of 99.999999%. Fuck yeah. Watch me, bitches.
Anyway stayed late at nursery and totally missed the empty-gym time, so I just headed home. I’ll go tomorrow and try to get that sweet 2pm-3pm window.
Thursday: woke up annoyingly late (around 10), was annoyed, ate some scones I was saving for gym, then made more food, then hauled ass to the gym (it was an ok time/day, but I think I prefer Wednesdays), and just got back.
I have come to the realization that I despise biking home from the gym. Normally I love to bike home from anywhere, because I love going home. But biking after the gym is the worst. I’ve just exhausted my body, and I still have to bike. For a normal person, this might be okay. cuz. a normal person would just bike at a relaxed, 10-13mph pace (especially on uphills). I always try to do this. I’m always like, fuck everything imma take it madddd easy. But right after I get over the hills (which I allow myself to catch all the lights for because lazy (but also I practice trackstanding at every light... so does it really count as taking a break (yes, because trackstanding is not hard))), I’m like, OK TIME TO BIKE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE GOING HOME BECAUSE I LOVE GOING HOME, and by the time I get to the hill that my building is on, I’m racing up that hill (seriously I have to admit I love racing up this hill. It is my second favorite hill, after the one on 27th from Cabrillo to Balboa). Anyway then I’m at my doorstep and I just want to lie on the floor. Also I’m so disgustingly sweaty that I feel like I’m disrespecting anyone whose eyes come in contact with me.
Anyway now I am going to piddle away the remaining four hours of the day and maybe fix my chrome extension a bit
Edit: nope just piddled away the day (also made biscuits, but I think I overworked the dough again so they are not very soft. ugh! I just want to get back to what I had last year, when I was churning out biscuits and they were all amazing) Edit: ok now i’ve also fixed the chrome extension a bit
Friday: volunteering, then creating horrifying watercolors kool beans
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