#and he's pretty sure the doctor there is a serial killer or he's just on the border of criminally insane (this is dottore after all)

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

#tma #i hope this convinces you to listen to tma #the magnus archives #sasha james #jon sims #podcasts #gay podcasts #elias bouchard #peter lukas #melanie king #gerard keay #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #funny #one sentence summaries #sillyposting #Youtube #queer

[ohbo-ohno]

Literal man hunt!!

Ghost and Soap who are protective of their land like they're Americans, literally guns everywhere and shooting anyone suspicious on sight because they have many enemies and a lot of people would love to kill them once they're retired.

But our girl literally just...got lost. She stumbled across their cabin like a baby deer because she is either got lost or was running from someone. It was the first time ever when Ghost missed a shot...and he is happy he did because now they have an adorable injured darling!!

Her leg is no good so they help her, get her treatment from a real doctor even but of course you have to stay with them, you're cold and hurt and delusional because you're their soulmate and their perfect little pet who can't even resist because they are providing food and shelter. Living cottagecore life with your two murderous husbands but you really don't want to be here.

And you want to ran away but you physically can't. Soap is constantly doting on poor us, supports us when we have to make food because they are horrible at it, Ghost is adoring the sight. Retirement is nice when you have a little pet near you.

Eventually they even force us help them with other victims!! Like cleaning the blood from Ghost and Soap in the shower, listen to their various hunting stories, hold the ammo for them once we can escort them in the forest.....the possibilities are endless. Other victims think we can help them, but we just cry and apologize over and over as Soap bashes their brains with an axe

being forced to help with their other victims... my guy you should read Brother by Ania Ahlborn, man is forced to help his serial killer family dispose of their victims

also below the cut i kinda barely touched on the concept you sent but it's so good and i had nothing to add im sorry :(

cw below for like... very light gore? description of murder fitting of a horror movie

wandering around lost through the woods and randomly getting fucking shot, only for someone to come running out of the trees and asking if you're ok??? has me going bonkers

also this is totally giving the most dangerous game so i present you: soap and ghost kidnap groups of people and hunt them for sport, but when you wake up they realize that they want you to stay alive. maybe soap pretends to be one of the victims, teams up with you to help you (help keep you alive) and herds you in the direction of their cabin without you knowing

you only realize what's going on when he slaughters another person, someone who wants to team up with you two. sure the way the new guy looked at you made you uncomfortable... but johnny split his head open with an axe when he reaches for you, splits him right down the middle and leaves you staring up at him, both of you covered in blood

and now what, right?

you learn you've been kidnapped to be prey in some sick bastard's idea of fun, and now the one man you thought might help you through this turns out to be that sick bastard?

and johnny's pretty pissed, he'd wanted to play along with you for a little longer :/ but that other motherfucker had forced his hand, had tried to touch you, and he couldn't just let that happen. and now you're screaming and crawling away from him, which is bullshit because he was literally protecting you

so now you've got pissy serial killer johnny, grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you behind him despite your best struggles, grunting and asking can you just fuckin' relax for a minute while you stare up at him like ?!?!!?!?!?!

anyway he drags you to where simon's been hunting the others, drops you at his feet and crosses his arms all angrily. ghost just raises an eyebrow, "i thought you wanted to play along with them this time?"

and johnny's pouty about it, damn near tapping his foot in complaint. "wanted to play along with her, but some bastard got touchy."

you manage to scramble away, get up and fucking sprint through the forest because oh my god the guy johnny took you to had a fucking crossbow, only to trip over a wire and end up locked in a net, six feet off the ground

and here comes johnny and ghost, sauntering out of the woods and looking up at you in the air. johnny laughs at you, and you're crying so hard you can hardly even see them

anyways, they leave you in the net while they deal with their other prey <3 come back for you at the end of the night and take you home with them

#gremlingottoosilly #asks and answers #bo writes #ghoap x reader #serial killer ghoap x reader

[jooniesficrecs]

enhypen fic recs

favourites marked with a ♥

✦ — ot7

enhypen reaction to you being special mc on music — @yeeunjia

idol!enha x idol!fem!reader

enhypen giving you gf privilege — @n1k1tty

✦ — hyung line

no nut november — @jayflrt ♥

contains smut !!

social media au

summary : four men suppressing their carnal instincts for thirty days doesn’t sound plausible, but it’s no nut november, so victory is crucial. yet, there’s only one obstacle keeping lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon from their prize: you. game on, boys.

✦ — lee heeseung

give it time — @heesdreamer ♥

playgirl!au x inexperienced!hee

a few sexual scenes but no full smut !!

14.03k words

summary : being jakes twin sister, your reputation followed you around wherever you went. add on the fact you were a known man eating playgirl with a thing for nerds and you were heeseung’s worst nightmare

first date — @heesdreamer ♥

part of give it time universe

contains smut !!

4.1k words

summary : yn gets jealous when a waitress flirts with heeseung on their first date and decided to show her who he belongs to.

fear of spiders — @heesdreamer

spiderman! heeseung x reader

3k words

summary : you’re pretty sure that your quiet and mysterious roommate just might be a serial killer… plus he’s weirdly afraid of spiders

✦ — park jeongseong

ave general — @heetendo

historical/roman! au, roman general! jay, husband! jay

contains smut !!

12.7k words

summary : after your husband returns from the wars in foreign lands, you could not be more proud to see him be the shining pride of rome. however, even among the celebrations and your own personal news, jay park only wanted one thing — some time alone with you.

study lessons — @jaeyunverse ♥

jock x tutor, strangers2lovers, slight rivals2lovers, mutual pining (kinda), high school au

12.3k words

summary : so jay got piss drunk at jungwon’s party, lost his balance, tripped, and fell off the second floor balcony. now, he’s got a broken leg, a plummeting social status and a doctor’s note that orders him to abstain from all upcoming football matches till his bones mend. too bad he doesn’t possess the power to superheal and won’t be able to play when a recruiter from the college of his dreams comes to watch. left with nothing but regret, broken dreams and a shitty gpa (because why would he study when his coach told him he was guaranteed a sponsored ride to indiana university), he’s forced to bury his nose in textbooks and finally learn what the fuck integrals are. it’s a good thing the school was considerate (and sympathetic) enough to assign him the best tutor on the entire campus—you. the small hiccup in this arrangement? you hate jocks, but jay thinks you look cute.

the a-list — @jayflrt ♥

park jongseong x fem!reader (ft. park sunghoon), gossip girl au, rich kid au, fake dating au, friends2lovers

contains smut !!

10.2k words

summary : life seems to finally be going your way. that is, until your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend is back, and gossip girl appears to be out to get you. but there’s only room for one queen bee in the upper east side, and with a hand from your best friend, park jongseong, you’re going to make sure it’s you.

✦ — sim jaeyun

the switch project — @jaylaxies

contains smut !!

photographer!jake x lingerie model!reader, rivals2fwb

5.3k words

summary : being the top model for your company was something you had grown accustomed to, alongside your photographer, jihoon, always placing number one on the 'monthly evaluation list'. just opposite to jake not being accustomed to be placed second. so when company announced 'the switch project', jake had to turn the tables for him. the hard part? you're his partner and you hate him.

to all my firsts with you — @jayflrt

jake x fem!reader, college!au, strangers2lovers, mutual pining

7.3k words

summary : first kiss. first date. first love. first heartbreak. with jake, your timing would always be off—like thunder following lightning—barely missing the other by seconds.

alternate ending — to all my firsts (and forevers) with you

jake sim x fem!reader, established relationship, college au

1.5k words

✦ — park sunghoon

back off — @delcakoo

sunghoon x fem!reader

1k words

summary : after wandering off at the grocery store, sunghoon is less than pleased to find some stranger trying to ask you out on a date. but don’t worry, he’s ready to put the guy in his place!

little lucky charm — @ddeonuism

slytherin!sunghoon x ravenclaw!gn!reader, hogwarts!au

2.4k words

summary : if there was one person who loved quidditch as much as sunghoon, it was you, ravenclaw’s own quidditch geek. from a friendship formed by mutual love for the sport, it’s truly a mystery how you didn’t join you own house’s team. but hey, at least your extensive knowledge on the sport helped him and his team with their playstyle, considering you were always present during the team’s training anyways. after all, you were his own little lucky charm and the sole reason why slytherin has been winning the quidditch cup for five years in a row.

✦ — kim sunoo

scammed!? — @amakumos

non-idol! sunoo x fem! reader, smau

summary : after losing to your friend patrick in a game of fashion famous on roblox, your punishment is to send that one incredibly stupid and very unconvincing “scammer” copypasta using a burner account to your longtime crush - fashion major, kim sunoo. after asking for your phone number, sunoo realises that you’re his classmate from a few years ago that he sees at the cafe often, and maybe you’re the person that he’s been harbouring feelings for - despite how he cringes when he sees your mismatched socks.

✦ — yang jungwon

attention, please! — @eeunoia ♥

rugby player!jungwon x reader

9k words

summary : you are assigned to write the article about the Belift rugby team and had the chance to get close to the the team captain.

kiss cam — @duskwon

yang jungwon x fem!reader, frenemies2lovers

3.8k+ words

summary: you were fully prepared to be single on valentine’s day. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

✦ — nishimura riki

shoot! — @amakumos ♥

friends2lovers, idiots2lovers, social media au + some written chapters

idol!riki x fem!reader

number one rule of having online friends: don’t fall in love with them. but after one year of being friends with cheolsoo, someone you met while playing co-op with in genshin, the little fluttering feeling in your stomach every time he texts you is too hard to ignore. so, after a year of talking and being friends, you and cheolsoo finally decide to meet - but then you realise that “cheolsoo” is actually nishimura riki, a famous kpop idol. so now, you have to deal with having the fattest crush on someone you basically don’t even know. shoot.

sixteen eighty-five — @prettywon

nonidol!riki x gn!reader

6k words

summary : you and riki were the hardest workers on the newspaper staff. despite this, you two are never to be seen working together. he avoids you and you avoid him, until you're both put up for the task of running the "Love Seekers Column." as the column gains popularity, so do you and riki, and no good can come from that.

amortentia — @nikihoon

slytherin!riki x fem!reader, modernhogwarts!au, strangers2lovers

 1.5k words

summary : riki would do anything to have his crush notice him, so he tries his hand at making a love potion.

#enhypen fic recs #enhypen #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #lee heeseung x reader #sim jake x reader #park sunghoon x reader #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon x reader #nishimura riki x reader #jooniesficrecs !!

[plus-size-reader]

Safe

Richie Kirsch x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2816 words

Warnings: the reader gets stabbed, fandom-typical violence, romanticizing a known serial killer

Summary: Richie “saves” the reader from Ghostface, and she doesn’t want to leave his side after that.

@armyangxls​​ requested this forever ago, and I just got around to finishing it. I hope you enjoy it darling!

—————————————————————————————————

You almost didn’t believe it.

Not that you had been attacked. You had sort of figured that at some point or another, you would end up on the chopping block due to your close proximity to Sam Carpenter, your best friend.

What you couldn’t believe was that you survived the encounter.

By some miracle, or more accurately by Richie Kirsch, you were still breathing even after coming face to face with that fucking ghost mask.

He had saved you, and even more impressively, he was made it out too. He had survived and so had you, with little more than a flesh wound to speak of.

It wasn’t bad, considering how it could have gone. Still, that didn’t make the whole being stabbed in the side hurt any less.

It hurt like a bitch.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay” Richie cooed, trying his best to be comforting in the aftermath of what you’d just gone through.

You tried your best not to scoff at that, finding it hard to be positive with a stab wound leaking all over the floor.

The only thing that kept you quiet, really, was the knowledge that he had just tried to take on a masked serial killer for no other reason than to save your life, and he didn’t deserve any attitude.

Even if he wanted to say stupid things like that.

“I can’t believe I got fucking stabbed” you groaned, resting your head back against the cabinet and letting out a huffy breath.

Richie hummed at that, only half paying attention as he took in the scene in front of him. Honestly, he couldn’t believe you got stabbed either, considering it hadn’t actually been part of the plan.

Not that he could tell you that.

It wouldn’t bring you any comfort now.

“How bad is it?” you wondered, not entirely sure if you wanted to know, but doing your best to say something, anything that would fill the empty space between you.

You were flushed, and panting but if you asked Richie, you still looked pretty…in a just-got-attacked-by-a-serial-killer kind of way.

Though, considering you didn’t ask him, he chose to keep that little fact to himself. Instead, he forced himself to grimace as he glanced down at where the blade had pierced your flesh.

There was a lot of blood, and from this angle, he couldn’t even really tell how bad the killer had gotten you.

So, after a careful glance back at your face, he decided to just tell you that. “I’m going to look at it, okay?”

With careful hands, he lifted what he could of your bloodied t-shirt to take a look at the damage Ghostface had managed to do before he showed up.

It wasn’t pretty.

The soft skin of your midsection was marred, and you were sure to have a pretty gnarly scar once they stitched you up. Thankfully though, it didn’t look too deep and he was sure you’d live.

Richie was a lot of things, but a doctor was not one of them.

All he could tell was that the bleeding wasn’t too bad, a steady trickle more than a gush, which meant that you would recover. He might not know much about surviving stab wounds, but he knew enough to know that you weren’t dying.

He would definitely know if you were dying.

“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” you questioned, trying to laugh though it was cut short with a hiss as his fingers met the hole in your abdomen.

You weren’t sure what he was doing, but considering it was either trust Richie or bleed out on the floor, you kept your mouth shut.

“You got stabbed,” he laughed, his eyes not meeting yours as he focused on the task at hand. Using the hole in your shirt as leverage to tear the bottom part off, he started, doing his best to pack the wound with some of the cotton.

It wasn’t pretty, but all things considered, that couldn’t have been the furthest thing from your mind.

Maybe under different circumstances, you may have blushed or attempted to tug the edges of your shirt down further to cover the exposed pudge of your lower stomach but that seemed silly now.

Besides, Richie didn’t even seem phased at the appearance of your usually hidden skin, much less disturbed by it.

“Good news is, we’re already in a hospital” he teased, his eyes flicking back up to you for a second, a smirk playing on his lips as he attempted to joke with you, just to make sure you caught it.

You smiled, a small nod letting him know that you both got his joke and appreciated his attempt to make light of the situation.

Getting stabbed hadn’t been on your to-do list, but it seemed that if it had to happen, you could do a lot worse in terms of first responders than Richie.

“Aright. What do you say we get you some help, huh?” he suggested, standing from where he’d been, kneeling over your crumbled frame and offering you a hand.

It was going to hurt, standing up, but there wasn’t exactly a good way to get around it. So, you bit the inside of your cheek and pushed through the screaming of your abdomen until you were on your feet.

Richie held you there until you were ready to take a step and even then, he didn’t let go of the hold he had on you, his arm secured around your back.

This hadn’t been part of the plan, and it certainly wasn’t in his script, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

After all, everybody loved a little bit of romance with their gore, and a pretty girl on his arm could only make him more likable in the end. It was a win-win, as long as you healed up well enough to make all those public appearances with him when everything was said and done.

~

The doctors made quick work of the wound you were sporting.

After Tara, they knew exactly what they were dealing with and your injuries were nowhere near as severe, so they were done relatively quickly. Of course, that didn’t mean that you could go home.

You had to spend at least a couple of days under observation, just to make sure the knife hadn’t caused more serious complications, or knicked something internally that they hadn’t caught yet.

Which was just fantastic.

You had almost been butchered a few floors down, but somehow you were supposed to feel safe sleeping here all alone? Hardly.

“You awake in there?”

The sound of Richie’s voice from behind the closed door startled you from your brooding, and you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face as you thought about seeing him again.

He had saved your life, after all.

“Yeah, come on in” you called, confirming that you were, in fact, awake and more than willing to have a visitor.

Your parents weren’t going to be able to make it, and with them out of the picture, you were pretty much looking at a weekend here all by yourself. Staring at the ceiling tiles was entertaining, but somehow you thought actual conversation with another human would top it.

Richie did as you suggested, careful to close the door gently behind him. The doctors told you he waited the entire time you were in surgery, but when you woke up, he was gone.

Evidently, getting some stitches of his own.

You winced as you took notice of his bandaged forearm, “Did they do a good job getting you patched up?” you wondered, thinking back to the moment he’d burst into the room and saved you from certain death.

It felt like a dream now, but the sharp pain still radiating in your side confirmed it was real. You had almost been butchered downstairs, and had Richie not shown up, you wouldn’t have been here at all.

The sequence of events had been coming back to you more and more as you sat here, trying to put it all together in your head.

You had gotten a text from Amber asking you to meet her in Tara’s room and assuming the worst, you headed that way.

At some point in your journey, the killer had come at you from the back and knocked you from your feet, resulting in you both hitting your head and ultimately getting stabbed, when you rolled over to fend off another blow.

You didn’t even realize you’d been stabbed at first.

It wasn’t until Richie came rushing into the hospital room and drew Ghostface’s attention away from you that you noticed the blood pooling around you.

Your hand slipped in the crimson when you went to stand, and you fell back to the tile floor. That was where you were when he screamed, the killer’s blade slicing clean through the skin of his left arm.

It wasn’t a terrible injury, all things considered, but you still couldn’t believe that he’d just done that. That he’d gone out of his way to put himself between the killer and you, someone he’d only met a few days prior.

“I think so. What about you?” Richie wondered, not bothered by your faraway look as he moved to sit down beside your bed in the visitor's chair.

He had a little bit of experience with wounds like yours, but he was never putting them back together more than he was making them worse.

You nodded in reply, watching as he filled one of the paper cups on your side table with water, and offered it to you, in a gesture far more caring than you ever would have imagined from him.

Though, after today, it would seem that you had been too quick to judge him. Richie had to be a good guy, or else he wouldn’t still be here.

“Are you headed home?” you asked, trying to make small talk as you finished up with your water and handed it back to him.

You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly spending time here if they didn’t have to, and considering that he was up and around, you figured that meant he was probably on his way out.

Just checking in before he went out to Sam again.

“I have a little time, you know if you’re lonely” Richie shrugged, a little too quickly to be considered casual though you didn’t really catch it. All you heard was that you didn’t have to be alone for a little while longer.

Which, after everything that had happened today, felt like a wave of relief washing over you.

“We can watch Stab 5. It’s on Netflix, and trust me, it’s the best one” he assured, not even giving you a chance to reply before pulling out his phone and searching for title in question happily.

You may not have known how deep his love for the franchise went, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy a movie together regardless.

“You don’t think that’s a little morbid? Y’know, with Ghostface running around” you countered, immediately forcing Richie to rethink his whole plan. If you didn’t like these movies, you really weren’t going to like the rest of his movie.

Though, as soon as he met your gaze, he melted again.

You were messing with him.

Even though you were tired and recovering from a pretty nasty wound, you had this soft smirk on your face that told Richie everything he needed to know.

“Don’t be scared. I already proved I can protect you, didn’t I?” he grinned, pressing play and listening as the opening score met his ears, after scooting his chair closer to where you were laying so you could enjoy it too.

You two stayed like that for a while, not really saying much to one another, aside from the occasional muttering of facts or repeating of lines from Richie when his favorite parts would flash across the screen.

It was nice.

It had been a while since you had been able to just enjoy sharing space with another person, and you never would have guessed you’d find that with someone like Richie.

Not that you could deny it.

He was different than you thought, and for once, that seemed like it was a good thing.

You smiled, thinking back to the way you’d refused his handshake the first time he’d introduced himself. He just seemed too nice, and too put together, that kind of thing always put you on edge.

Richie caught sight of your soft expression from the corner of his eye, the movie forgotten now as the end credits rolled. He started to say something, to ask what you were thinking about or how you liked the movie, but he never got the chance.

Before he could even consider what he wanted to ask, a bell chimed through the hospital letting you both know that it was nearly 8 pm.

It was time for him to go home.

…and time for you to accept your fate.

Richie was the first to speak, breaking the silence between you as he stood from his chair, moving it back to its original position. “I guess I should get ready to go”

He spoke slowly, like it was his turn to be lost in thought, contemplating whether or not he should really leave you here all alone.

The entire time he’d been here, no one else had called or texted to check on you. It seemed like you were completely alone, and he didn’t really want to just abandon you here.

“Yeah, you should go home, get some sleep” you agreed, not even trying to hide the disappointment in your tone.

You needed to get ahold of yourself.

This was your best friend’s boyfriend, and just because he saved your life from a serial killer, packed your wound with his bare hands, and then spent the evening keeping you company didn’t mean there was anything between you.

There couldn’t be.

Again, Richie faltered, clearly not ready to go but not able to come up with a good enough reason to stay either.

It felt like there was something else to say like the right words were right there on the tip of his tongue and his brain just couldn’t access them.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then” this time, the words came out more resigned, sort of how a huffy child would react after being put in time-out.

Wordlessly, he gathered his things and headed toward the door, looking back at you only once before pulling it open, intent on taking his leave.

Fuck it.

“Hey Rich,” you called, watching as he jolted back at the sound of your voice, too much hope and expectation evident on his face. “Will you stay with me?”

Your voice was far sweeter than you’d ever heard before as you practically pleaded with him not to leave, ignoring the nagging pain in your side as you shifted toward where he was standing.

Visiting hours were over, or at least, coming to an end.

Luckily, since you didn’t really have much family to speak of and no one else had come to visit, it wasn’t like he’d have any competition for your overnight visitor's slot.

If he wanted it, that was.

The second you spoke, you wondered if you’d made a mistake. That was a pretty bold move, and no matter how much you ignored the facts, he was currently taken which added a layer of complexity.

So far, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong by Sam, but you were certainly in the grey area.

“You can if you want, I mean, I’d feel better if I wasn’t alone” you added, hoping that this wasn’t too much pressure all at once. He’d already saved your life today, so you could understand if he wasn’t exactly looking for anything else.

It wasn’t as if you could expect more than that.

Still, any resistance that may have been there washed away as soon as you offered, and Richie grinned. As if he was going to actually turn down a chance to spend more time with you.

“Yeah, I can do that” he decided, almost all at once. “We can watch 6 and 7 too, so you can tell me which one you like best”

You knew it was wrong, to want his attention as much as you did, but right now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had nearly been butchered earlier and the only thing that saved you was Richie.

So, if you wanted to keep him by your side a little longer, you doubted anyone would blame you for that.

Besides, Right now, Richie was the only person you knew for sure could be trusted and you needed to know you were safe.

Even if only for one more night.

#richie kirsch #ghostface #scream #scream 5 #scream VI #richie kirsch x reader #richie kirsch x ps reader #richie kirsch x plus size reader #richie kirsch imagine #ghostface x reader #ghostface x ps reader #ghostface x plus size reader #ghostface imagine #scream x reader #scream x ps reader #scream x plus size reader #scream imagine #scream 5 x reader #scream 5 x ps reader #scream 5 x plus size reader #scream 5 imagine

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #58: Percy Jackson x Criminal Minds

While perusing the PJO tag for the first time in ages, I stumbled across yet another crossover I never would have thought of trying - and which, naturally, hasn't escaped my head. It managed to mash together the worlds of PJO and Criminal Minds... and so, naturally, I thought: if I were going to write this crossover, what would I do?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon - until MoA. There Percy plays off the judo throw in New Rome to avoid starting a war with the Greeks, but after they're alone on the Argo Percy tells Annabeth that he doesn't appreciate 1) being blamed for his disappearance, as if Hera had asked him if he wanted to lose his memories and half a year of his life, and 2) being physically attacked by his girlfriend outside of weapons practice.

Naturally, Annabeth doesn't take this well and doubles down on her position, and the two fight like cats and dogs throughout MoA and HoO. By the time they reach Akhlys, Percy is hardly inclined to listen to Annabeth at all, and so doesn't stop poison-bending.

It's not obvious at the time, but not stopping fully unlocks Percy's divine powers. He's now immortal, like Chiron, but not a god. It's also rather the final straw for Annabeth and Percy's relationship.

Because he doesn't immediately realize he's immortal, Percy goes on with normal human things like high school and college - attending both at Camp Jupiter, which is better equipped to handle demigods than the average mortal school. It's only after he starts grad school at nearby Stanford University and gets a lot of comments on how young he looks does anyone start realizing what's happened.

Fast forward to about 15 years after HOO, when Percy has joined the BAU - because even immortals have to pay the bills somehow.

In my head I picture this to be S8/S9 of CM, largely because I enjoyed Alex Blake's character and think she'd be a good outsider POV for the story I want to tell, but dealer's choice.

Percy proves to be the BAU cryptid. His primary and secondary school records say unsub in the making... then he double majors in marine biology and classics in college (because everyone who survives four years in the legion or slays a particular number of monsters gets a classics degree when they graduate by default). Then he goes on to get a doctorate in psychology from Stanford... and swim twice for Team USA in the Olympics. He once went on vacation in the Keys and found the wreck of a lost Spanish galleon free diving. He's polite and mild mannered and goes nowhere without at least three knives on his person and a week's worth of survival gear. When he's tired, his reports sometimes slip into Ancient Greek or Latin. He may be a Hellenist and speaks of Hell as a place that he's been.

Percy is, in short, unfathomable to his profiler colleagues. They like him, but every new thing they learn about him only complicates the profile they're definitely not putting together.

He's been in the BAU for about 18 months before they receive reports of a serial killer's dumping ground in the Oakland Hills, not more than a mile from Camp Jupiter. The victims are all in their late teens and signs indicate all were killed in a ritualistic way. Most of those the investigators can identify are runaways.

Once the BAU is on site, Reid determines that someone is trying to recreate an obscure Ancient Roman sacrifice.

More importantly, Percy realizes that, yes, these are definitely the bodies of Roman demigods - and not one of them was killed by a monster before they could get to camp. In fact, he's pretty sure there's a secret entrance to camp not 100' away from the oldest body.

It's this last point that causes Percy to lead his team to Camp Jupiter. This is a revelation in itself and should answer many of the team's questions about Percy but give them twice as many new ones.

It should also be perfect timing, as they arrive just as praetors Frank and Hazel were thinking of reaching out to Percy, as he's the only real investigator either camp has. They're not aware of most of the murders, as it's not unusual for one or two demigods every year to be killed after leaving the safety of camp, but the last three victims went missing in the last three months under odd circumstances.

(One was a granddaughter of Apollo who'd talked about wanting to join the Hunters of Artemis, and when she disappeared everyone assumed that's what she did, only for the Hunters to visit later claiming she never showed. The most recent was a daughter of Bacchus who hated the regimented life of the legion and wanted to transfer to Camp Half-Blood where things were a little more their speed. Most the others were legacies or the children of minor gods.)

They set up shop in Percy's house - in part because CJ has no police force beyond the legion, which houses their main suspects - in part because Percy's house is built like a Roman temple on the edge of the temple district and no one would dare sneak into it.

(The demigods have been actively treating immortal Percy as a god, because if deification worked for Nero, they can make it work for Percy. And a deified!Percy could only be good for them.)

In the end it comes out a grandchild of Hecate/Trivia was sacrificing other demigods to their ancestor in hopes of obtaining more power - they should be just powerful enough to disguise their actions with the Mist but not much more, and intensely jealous their ancestor handed already-powerful Hazel more power during the Giant War.

Bonuses include: 1) Thalia and the Hunters showing up to help, as do Nico and Will. This should be an intensely confusing family reunion to watch from the outside given that two are immortal. Extra bonus points if the BAU recognize Nico from some wildly successful paranormal investigative channel on YouTube and are shocked to find out all the ghosts are real; 2) Will calling Percy "mom", on account of the fact he's been dating Apollo for the last five years now - Apollo's longest relationship ever - though Percy refuses to consider marriage or children until fifty years have passed; and 3) One of the BAU being tangentially involved with the mythological world already - Hotch had a relationship with a disguised Justice before meeting Hailey and their child is at Camp Jupiter? Reid has just recently met a disguised Athena at a conference and is now worried he'll arrive home to a baby on the doorstep?

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back to me if you chose to do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #criminal minds #crossover #percy x apollo #trials of apollo #toa

[promenadewithme]

Chapter 1 (The Kiss Of Eros)

a/n: i rewrote this because I hated the first draft Paring: Spencer Reid x Original Character (Rebecca Sanders) Warnings: swearing, reader thinking Spencer hates her, arson, yeah... enjoy!

Prologue Masterlist

My mother once told me that doing the right thing is harder than doing the wrong thing. She was absolutely correct. It’s extremely hard to hold myself back from punching Spencer Reid square on that pretty little face of his right now as he corrects me in front of the whole team, but I am set on doing the right thing. I am the bigger person. I will rise above this. I will not let him get to me.

Inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm myself, I look up at his face again. That stupid face and those stupid round glasses - that are somehow always clean - and that stupid perfectly brushed hair. Mr perfect all the fucking time.

“Excuse me?” I try to utter in my calmest possible voice. It still sounds like I want to rip his head off.

He doesn’t even have the dignity to look at me as he answers.

“You’re excused. I know you don’t have an eidetic memory like me. It’s easy to get these things messed up in a normal brain. However, fact is, serial arsonists are statistically under the age of 35. Not 30.” 

Did he just call me dumb? What the fuck is a ‘normal brain’? I want to tell him that I won all of my spelling bees, that I was reading books by the time I was 4, that I was always top of my class, and that being able to memorize something with ease doesn’t make you the smartest person to walk the earth. But I don’t, mostly because JJ gives me a warning look from behind Reid. 

We’ve had this talk before, countless times. I hate it that he never directs a word at me except when it’s to belittle and correct me, but apparently it's “bad for the team” and “not professional” when I lose my patience. 

I take another deep breath and think happy thoughts. Reading a good book under a fluffy blanket on a rainy day, the sound of that rain against my window, watching videos of owls running with their little naked legs, having wine with the girls on our night off. Another deep breath.

“You’re right.” I acknowledge, though it burns my throat and hurts my very essence to say it.

Reid’s head snaps in my direction and he tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” I taunt. “Let’s get back to work, we have a serial arsonist to catch.”

Before he can say another word, I walk out of the room where we set up a few hours ago. This killer is smart, but we are smarter. I grab my phone to call Pen, but am interrupted by a familiar voice that makes my heart skip a beat in annoyance. 

I stop in my tracks, but don’t look back at him. I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret later.

Let’s face it, Spencer is one of the team’s best assets and I’m… I’m good at what I do, I really am. But if they had to let one of us go, I know for sure it wouldn’t be him. So I force myself to breathe once again, because I am in my dream job and I will not let my feelings for this man ruin that for me.

When he notices I won’t be turning to face him, Reid steps in front of me and searches my face. I look away.

“Is there something you need, Doctor?” I inquire, pushing up my glasses. I want to add that if he wanted to stare at my face, he could just take a picture, but that would be too ‘middle school’ of me.

“‘You’re right’? I don’t think I have ever heard you say those words before, definitely not to me. Is everything alright?” I peek at him and his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes still trying to meet mine.

I scoff “Don’t act like you care about my feelings now, just take the win.”

My phone blasts with Taylor Swift’s ‘Me!’ and I don’t have to check the caller ID to know that Pen is calling. 

“Excuse me.” I mutter to Reid before taking the call.

“What’s up?” I greet as I walk out of the police station for some air.

The cool end-of-autumn air caresses my skin and calms my nerves. I’ve always liked the cold, even though I’m not sure LA weather counts as cold, it’s better than heat. Cold weather means snow, hot drinks, fuzzy socks, no sweating, pretty outfits and that christmas is near.

“Tell me I’m the best.” Pen sings and a smile makes its way to my face.

“You, Penelope Garcia, are the absolute best in the whole wide world.” I praise.

“Thank you, baby! But you don’t even know what I found yet.”

I chuckle before asking “What have you got for me?”

“Prepare yourself…” I roll my eyes playfully at her suspenseful pause.

I hear the clattering of her fingers against the computer through the phone and, a second later, a notification comes through.

“I did some digging and found out that our victims were partners at a big law firm and, get this, due to an economical issue, they fired a bunch of people at the same time like 2 years ago. I just sent you the list of all the people who were let go and the address of the two other partners. You’re welcome.”

I run back into the station while I ask her to cross reference our profile with the list of fired employees. 

“Just give me one…” she works her magic for a few more seconds before she calls out his name and address.

I walk into the room we set up in “We got him, Anthony Lewis. He’s living at his mother’s house on 54th Street Apartments.”

Gideon stands up from his chair and Reid looks surprised. Not so smug now, are you Mr smarty pants?

“That’s just a few minutes from here.” an officer says.

“Great,” I nod “I can go check it out if-”

“Guys…” Reid interrupts me and points at the television hung at the corner of the room.

The screen shows live footage of a news reporter in front of a huge house fire. 

No.

No, damn it! 

The flames take up the entirety of the house, windows already shattered, walls turning black with the blaze. There is no way anyone survived, not with how hot and fast the benzene flames burn. 

“Does anyone know where that house is?” I ask, but my voice feels weak. I already know the answer.

“Looks like Vineyard Avenue.” another officer says.

I look down at my phone and check Pen’s message.

2955, Vineyard Avenue CA - Theodore Phillips.

Fuck.

“That is Theodore Phillips’ house. He was one of the partners at the law firm that fired Anthony Lewis 2 years ago. Our last two victims were also partners.” I slump down on the chair “There is only one left.”

I feel like a failure. I’ve been at this for a year already, but every death still takes a toll. Shouldn’t I be used to this by now?

“How long does it take from the fire site to his mother’s house?” Hotchner asks, standing up from his seat and buttoning his blazer.

“20 minutes.” Penelope answers over the phone.

“Morgan, Prentiss.” Hotchner charged “You two go to his mother’s house. Question both her and the suspect. He’ll be caught off guard when he gets home and you’re already there.” 

With a nod, they were off.

“Gideon and I will go take a look at the crime scene. Reid, Sanders, you two will go to the remaining partner’s house. Make them aware of the situation, ask questions and keep their family safe.”

I want to protest, but they are out the door before I can say anything. My shoulders slump and my mouth snaps closed.

Shit.

I glance over at Dr know-it-all and he’s already crossing his worn brown leather messenger bag over his chest.

It’s okay, I can do this. I’m a professional. I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need everyone to like me. 

Yes, you do. A little voice whispers in my mind.

I sigh. Of course I do. I’ve never felt like I truly fit in anywhere, but here at the BAU… It really felt like a fresh start, like maybe I had finally found my tribe. Mostly, I did. Pen and I immediately clicked, JJ and Emily warmed up to me quite quickly, Hotch and Gideon were always warm and receptive in a father-figure way, Derek gets along with everyone, and then there’s Reid. Reid who shut down when he first saw me. I remember it clear as day, even now.

“And this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduces.

I know who he is. I have watched every grainy video of his lectures, read every article, this man is one of the reasons I was so set on joining the BAU. 

“Hi.” I offer my hand “I’m Rebecca Sanders.”

He just stares at me, grip tightening around the files he has pressed to his chest.

I sneak a confused look at Hotcher and he clears his throat. Spencer looks away, at anything but me.

“Sanders is the newest addition to our team.” my new boss says.

Nothing. I let my hand fall to my side. 

I look at Hotchner and he presses his lips together before adding “She worked at CASMIRC for a while, but asked to be transferred here. She will make a fine addition, don’t you think?”

“Why?” he finally speaks, looking at the floor even now.

“E-excuse me?” I stutter.

“Why did you transfer here?” he specifies, still not catching my eye.

Because I still have nightmares with the children’s faces, because my last case destroyed me, because working with adults is easier, because of you.

“I’ve always wanted to be a part of the BAU, it’s my dream job.” I settle with the answer I gave in my interviews.

“I think you’ll find it’s hardly a dream.” he says before leaving the room.

“Did I do or say something wrong?” I ask, wide-eyed.

Hotchner shakes his head, looking over at the door Doctor Reid left open “I don’t know.”

Reid clearing his throat brings me back to the present. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me.” I force a smile.

He looks at his shoes and nods. Dear Lord, this is going to be harder than I thought. 

“I’m going to need you to speak to me if we’re going to be pairing up.” I try. 

“There is nothing to say.” he states, pushing up his glasses. Still not looking at me.

I give JJ an exasperated look and she just shrugs. 

“Look, I get that you hate me or something, even though I don’t know what I ever did to you, but can we just act like two civilized human beings for once?”

His brows furrow “I don’t hate you.”

I scoff “Well, it sure seems like it. You know what? It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go.”

“Behave.” JJ calls out.

“Yes, ma’am.” I walk out the door and don’t wait for Reid. 

I gaze down at my phone and see that Pen is still on the line. Shit. I bring it to my ear again and wince. “Sorry, Pen.”

“Yikes, that was tense.” I can hear her grimace from here.

“Yeah, he hates me.”

“Now, don’t say that.” she chides lovingly “You just have to have a little more patience with Spencer. He’s a really nice guy if you get to know him.”

I scoff “Yeah, right.”

I push the door to the station open and let it fall closed behind me. 

“Sweetie, is this still about how he didn’t shake your hand when he met you? Because you should know by now that it’s not personal.”

Speaking of the devil, he finally catches up to me and stands looking at my face expectantly.

“Amongst other things.” I reply sheepishly. 

I know it wasn’t personal, but I was so let down when it happened. Reid was the person on the team I was most looking forward to meeting. I read all his articles and learned all about his previous cases. He was a genius and… some could say that he was a sort of professional crush of mine. 

That is, if blushing and kicking your feet while watching a video of one of his lectures is considered professional. Ok, I’ll admit, I really liked the sexy round glasses and the sweater vests and the hair. And, oh God, the veiny hands. Ok, maybe it was a bit more than a professional crush. But I just thought he was so smart and so pretty, he looked so kind too.

Never meet your heroes, right?

“Listen, I have to go, but thank you for your help.” I look at Reid from the corner of my eye and he’s still staring at me.

He’s always staring when I’m not looking, but never looks at me when I speak to him. Why won’t he knock it off?

“At your service, my liege.”

We say our goodbyes and I put my phone in the pocket of my gray plaid skirt. Straightening out my maroon sweater and trading my normal glasses for my oversized sunnies, I don’t spare Reid a second glance before following the street signs to where I want to go.

“Where are we going?” he calls out behind me, running awkwardly to reach me.

I bite my lip to hold in a laugh. Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad. I can get him to talk, maybe he’ll even not hate me by the end of the day. 

“I’m taking the metro, you can follow if you like.” I call back before looking over my shoulder at him with a smirk “Have you ever taken the metro, kid?”

“Don’t call me kid,” he grumbles, catching up to me “I’m two years older than you.”

“One year and 11 months.” I counter.

“Technically, 673 days.”

“But who’s counting?” I say, turning the corner “What matters is that I’m more experienced than you.”

He blushes profusely, before defending himself “I’m experienced.”

“In the tube?” I ask “I don’t really see you as a public transportation kind of guy.”

He doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t. 

He just looks at his shoes and keeps on walking. 

So much for communication. 

Tag list: @dreamsarebig (tell me if you want to be added)

Likes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom

[siriannatan]

At The Edges - fWhipScott

Sometimes you get an idea and you have to write it and share it because you're unreasonably happy with it. This one's one of those :}

fWhip messed up. He knows it. Not entirely. He got the job done. He still got shot. But the mark got shot worse.

He got on the plane back home, over the divide, a damn bumpy flight. With the damn bullets still in him. And more adrenaline and alcohol in his blood than is probably healthy.

He can't go to any doctor west side like this. Sausage could probably patch him up. Can he even drive all the way to his house?

Where else can fWhip go?

Gem will drag him to the hospital against his will. Pearl too. Jimmy's not talking to him.

Sausage it is. The best chance of no hospitals.

He somehow managed to drive his terrible rental car to the right neighbourhood. He's pretty sure he got the right house. The window he told his charming brother to open was open... 

He barely squeezes through the damn thing. Was it always this tiny? He thought as he hit the white floor tile. Wasn't Sausage's like tan brown?

Scott was having a lovely evening if anyone asked. Why would being stood up on a date, not even a first date with that particular jerk, ruin his evening? 

Why would his brother sending a wedding invite upset him? He was simply sad Xor could not deliver it in person. Wedding planning had to be eating a lot of his time.

Why would his favourite take-out place be closed this particular night for incentivisation upset him?

Sitting alone on his nice, comfy couch. Under a soft, cosy blanket. Eating terrible pizza, fries and bourbon-vanilla ice cream and chasing it with some terrible soda. A perfectly normal evening in his opinion. Everyone should have an evening like that from time to time.

*THUD* 

Scott almost spilt all his popcorn when something hit his kitchen tiles. Not thinking much. With a nearby broom, he went to check the noise. He did not want to draw his neighbours' attention. 

All too happy people. Surely hiding something terrible behind those fake smiles. Especially the two handsome guys on his left. Serial killer level of perfect and happy.

In the kitchen, under the window. Luckily there was nothing there since Scott sometimes used the window as a convenient way to drop his groceries. Was a man. Not too tall a man with ginger hair who definitely did not fit the neighborhood. "Hello? Sir? Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?" Scott asked, poking him with his broom.

"No hospital..." The man groaned and passed out. Great.

With a shaking breath, Scott decided to be stupid and help the man. It's not like his day could get any better than it already was...

He started by rearranging his position. Carefully and gently. It's been ages since he graduated med school. And almost as long since he worked in healthcare. But he still remembered some stuff. And had some stuff.

With the man in a better position and with no confirmed broken bones or damage to the head. No lumps or bumps. He retrieved the old bag of med tools. 

He made sure to keep the tools in top condition. And just recently went through it to replace what was no longer good—an old habit.

"I'm sorry it's to help you," he apologised before cutting stranger's undershirt open. It was tough fabric but nothing good medical shears couldn't deal with. 

Four bullet wounds instantly jumped into his mind. He was on the east side... Likely didn't live there. Maybe... No time for that.

He cleaned the wounds, thankfully not too deep. He gently removed the bullets as well as he could without any assistance or making the wounds worse. Once he was sure it was all good he stitched them and a few cuts as clean as he could.

What was he to do with a stranger on his kitchen floor now? They were clearly a mercenary, judging by their clothes and weapons. Probably knew someone in the area. Went to the wrong door due to his injuries.

For now, Scott pulled up a stool. Moved all his sharp things out stranger's reach. Got him a pillow. The floor tiles were not good to lie on.

And waited with his sharpest scalpel. He didn't have to wait long. Mercenaries tended to be tough. 

"Ugh... Saus..." The mercenary groaned, sitting up and froze when he noticed Scott. 

"I think you got the wrong house, I removed the bullets, cleaned the wounds and stitched them," Scott explained, slowly, carefully. Fully aware no one on this side could know how to properly deal with billet wounds. Especially a mercenary. But he already helped and at least for now had the upper hand. And the man's kind of pretty. And Scott's evening was crappy enough.

"Oh... I'm sorry for the intrusion then... I... ugh... my head..." the mercenary fumbled with his words. He didn't even try to sit up. Good. Scott thought.

"You probably shouldn't move too much," Scott hummed. It was really bad actually. His random stranger was quite pretty. And Scott had a weakness for pretty guys. "You can stay if you promise to not kill me," he had no idea why he offered. Maybe he didn't want to spend the rest of the evening alone.

"I'd hate to be a bother, my..." the mercenary tried with a polite smile. Cute.

"It's not, and I'd feel bad if I saw an ambulance dragging you out next door if you faint," masking attraction with professionalism, he tells himself.

Somehow he manages to convince the mercenary to stay with him. Or fWhip as he introduced himself after Scott settled him in the living room with a glass of water and an ice pack for his bruised ribs. They had a pretty fun evening all things considered. fWhip stayed in Scott's guest room. And in the morning, after a fast check-up, left.

Scott was a bit bummed that fWhip left without leaving him his number. But there was no helping it. He could only hope he'd bump into fWhip at some point. He was in the area for a reason. He likely went into the wrong window in pain-induced delirium.

A week later. Scott was cleaning his house when his doorbell rang. Not something that happens every day. Not without someone announcing previously they would be coming. So obviously he opened it as quickly as he could.

To a big bouquet of roses. And hiding behind it mercenary fWhip. "A... a thank you for not calling the ambulance," he said, offering Scott the roses and an almost completely hidden by them box of very nice chocolates.

"Oh... Um thank you, you didn't have to... Would you like some tea?" Scott could not believe his eyes and ears. Quite frankly was in a mild state of panic and shock. And it got worse when fWhip was accepted. "Sorry about the mess, I was doing a little cleaning up," he chuckled nervously.

Two years later, Scott was sitting on his couch, waiting for his husband to come back from 'work conference' sighing as he heard commotion from the kitchen. And grabbed his medical kit before going to patch whatever injuries fWhip brought back home.

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empiresshipping #fanfiction #empires fwhip #empires scott #scfwhip

[passengerseatsam]

this is us trying

pairing: eddie munson x female reader word count: 2k summary: after his name is cleared, eddie is determined to graduate. you're pretty sure it's a bad idea. warnings: suicide (briefly mentioned); swearing; angst; established relationship; post-canon notes: please reblog + give feedback!

“Are you sure you want to do this? 

Eddie hasn’t said a word since he picked you up at your house. You had climbed into the van to find him nearly bursting at the seams, fingers thumping on the steering wheel, leg bouncing furiously. Despite this, his eyes were fixed squarely ahead of him. The radio blared— a wall of guitar and drums that precluded any attempt at speaking to him. He was kinetic, bursting, yet somehow restrained. For once, he was driving under the speed limit. It was a clear indication that he was not good. 

Now, he’s parked in the very back of the lot, about as far away from Hawkins High as he can get. The quad is abuzz, the daily swarm of several hundred teenagers filing in before first period. They’re cheerful, for the most part, vivacious as they always are in the space between spring break and summer vacation, where things are winding down. They don’t notice the van tucked into the far corner, or Eddie, watching forlornly. Class starts in ten minutes. He turns the radio down, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to move.

It’s the first day back since the championship game. The school had remained closed for a while after the earthquake. In the meantime, and with Hopper back on the police force, the search for Eddie Munson ended abruptly. The deaths were not the work of a teen serial killer, they announced, but a series of unrelated freak accidents. The town accepted the explanation with a sort of morbid, cynical ambivalence. This wasn’t the first mass-casualty event in Hawkins to have an unsatisfying ending. Besides, the earthquake left most people with their own problems to worry about. The news cycles on. 

Eddie had spent two weeks in the hospital. It took dozens of stitches, a few blood transfusions, and some humiliating physical therapy before he was able to hold his own weight again. The scars were beginning to heal, taut pale lines that he keeps mostly hidden under layers and long sleeves. He’s not a hundred percent, and will probably never be. Regardless, the doctors agreed that the recovery was remarkable. 

Hawkins High, however, is likely to disagree.

For now, he white-knuckles the steering wheel with both hands, as if the parked car is moving a hundred miles an hour. His face is contorted, lip curled, a distance in his eyes that puts him somewhere in outer space. For a moment, you’re not even sure that he heard you. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, at last. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, fingers winding tightly into his frizzy bangs. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me.” 

“Really, Eddie, there’s no shame in—” 

“In what? Dropping out after three senior years?” he cuts you off, frustration dripping from every word.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you sigh. You’re trying to be delicate, supportive, but it’s a hard line to walk. You used to know Eddie’s mind, inside and out— used to be able to guess what he was thinking before he told you. But since Chrissy, since Vecna, he’s been a mystery. He’s changed, now, and you don’t always know what’s bouncing around in his head. You angle your body toward him as best you can in the crowded space, knees bent up at an awkward angle. You try to catch his eyes, but his gaze is still trained forward, focused upon whatever scene is playing out in his head.

Neither of you really knows what to do. There’s no handbook on how to return to school after being accused of murder. 

Furthermore, you had tried to talk him out of this. Wayne had brought it up first, while Eddie was still in a hospital bed, softly mentioning that he could get Eddie a job at the plant if he wanted. No questions asked, he had promised. You’d be on the night shift with me. A GED is just as good as a diploma, kid. The benefit to that, of course, was that the nocturnal schedule would keep most of Hawkins’ eyes off of him. But Eddie had shot that down swiftly; he hadn’t even wanted to discuss it. And Wayne, never one to push hard, had let it go.

He’s just as resolute now, despite the way his fingers are twitching. “What are you saying, then?” 

“I’m saying that it’s April. School ends in six weeks. I don’t think anyone would blame you if you decided not to torture yourself.”

He considers this, maybe, for about half a second. You watch it flit across his face before it turns stony again. “No. I didn’t army-crawl my way through six years of high school to get a goddamned GED. I’m doing this.”

The determination shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Eddie has always been capable of doing what he sets his mind to— his guitar, his intricate D&D campaigns, whatever. But he’s never set his mind to school before. You had always kind of assumed that he was still in high school because he wanted to be. It took effort to fail as wholly and spectacularly as he did— two years in a row. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t do it; he simply didn’t want to. 

You had believed him when, before spring break, he had passively announced that this was his last year. Eighty-six, baby, you and me. But that was then, and this, now, is a totally different ballgame. If his diploma comes at the expense of his safety, then you don’t care for it. You’d be lying if you said that your stomach wasn’t in knots, thinking about what’s waiting inside the school. 

And that’s it, really: you’re afraid. Wayne is afraid, too. If Eddie dropped out and went to work at the plant, it would be miserable, but at least he’d be safe. Once he’s there— out of this car, in the vicious hallways— you can’t protect him anymore. You have an image of Jason Carver in your head, of him and his goons outside the War Zone, packing shopping bags into Andy’s Jeep Cherokee. There were so many bags, so much ammunition. You were hunting interdimensional monsters; they were hunting Eddie. It still makes your hands shake to think about. He’s been cleared, now, but only technically. Jason and Patrick are gone, but Andy and the rest of them are still there. The rest of the student body is still there. Hawkins is still there. That kind of hatred doesn’t fade so fast.

It’s the best excuse not to graduate he’s ever had, and yet here he is, digging his heels in, throwing himself into the lions’ den. Leave it to Eddie.

“You don’t owe them anything, you know,” you say, as tactfully as you can manage. Your voice is thin. There’s a lump in your throat, trying to push unhelpful emotions to the surface, but you hold onto it tightly. He still won’t fucking look at you; instead, he’s sticking a finger under his leather bracelet, rubbing at the pink scar that encircles his wrist. Looking at it only twists the knots in your stomach. “I mean it. Andy, Mrs. O’Donnell, Principal Higgins— fuck them. You don’t have to prove yourself to them.” 

“It’s not that,” he mutters. “I’m done running. I didn’t run from the goddamned bats; I’m not gonna run from the Hawkins varsity basketball team.” His voice is lead-heavy, solemn as the grave. It’s a tone that you’re still not used to from him— the boy who used to be all carefree bombast and grandeur. He made this promise to himself, for better or for worse, and he meant it. “Just. Just give me a minute.” 

He lets out a loud breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s moments like these that remind you how grateful you are to be looking at him, at all. It hits you sometimes, over the past couple weeks— leaves your knees weak and your mouth dry to realize just how lucky you are that he’s here and not… Not. You can be patient as long as you get to watch his hands flex, watch his forehead scrunch and his tongue run over his teeth while he thinks. 

For days, you’ve been trying to understand why he’s so determined to throw himself into the lions' den. It’s not about Andy, or Mrs. O’Donnell, or Principal Higgins. It’s about him. It’s about proving to himself that he can start what he finishes, even if it scares the both of you.

“Okay,” you breathe. There are only a few minutes left to give. The bell is going to ring soon. You shift, watching the last clusters of kids shuffle through the front door. Maybe it’d be better to wait it out, slip into your respective homerooms once everyone is already seated and quiet. On the other hand, maybe you shouldn’t get detention on your first day back. 

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Eddie says, “This is gonna suck so hard.” There’s no getting around that. “Yep.” “I’m sorry. I should’ve dropped you off a block away, or something.” The sudden redirect catches you off guard. Your face betrays you, twisting up in confusion, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Walking in with me is gonna be social suicide. You’re basically an accessory to murder.” 

You laugh before you can help it. It’s so out of left-field, yet so earnest— so perfectly Eddie to be fretting about your dignity when you haven’t even thought twice about it. “I think it’s a little late to be worried about that.” 

He nods, contemplative, but thankfully doesn’t push that point any further. There’s no reason to. It’s a dead-end, the way that trying to convince him to put the van in drive and go back home is a dead-end. “Okay. Shit.” He talks through grit teeth, battling with himself just to unbuckle his seatbelt. The moment you’ve both been dreading has come. Just because he’s decided that he needs to do this, doesn’t mean that it’s easy. “Gotta rip the band-aid off sometime. Let’s go.”

And although you’d like to convince him to keep the band-aid on forever, you know he’s right.

The pre-summer air is warm and deceptively inviting. You stretch your legs, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. Eddie hasn’t carried a backpack since his junior year; he has a pencil, a pack of cigarettes and a bag of pretzels stuffed into his pockets, and that’s all he needs. 

You wriggle your hand into his and squeeze. For the first time all morning, he looks at you— really looks at you. His pupils are blown, bottom lip swollen and chewed pink. His grasp locks around yours, vice-tight, the curve of his rings digging bruises in the spaces between your fingers. The mask of determination is back on his face, jaw set firmly, shoulders tense. You just wish you had the same tenacity. He can flip-flop and flounder all he likes, tucked away in the safety of his van— but out here, he’s undaunted. No one can say he’s not brave.

“Thanks,” he says, softer than he’s spoken all day. “For being here.” Thank you for being here, you want to say. Upright and breathing. 

There are fates worse than this. As nervous as you are, you know in your gut that there are a dozen ways this could have ended worse. He’s here. He’s alive and in one piece. And although you don’t fully understand why he wants to throw himself into the lions’ den— you’re willing to go with him. After all, you followed him into Mordor once already. 

Maybe you both have a lot to be thankful for.

Instead of spilling your heart out all over the high school parking lot, you decide to make light. “After this, we’re picking up a pizza.” 

He snorts a laugh, and though his grin is half hearted, it’s there. It loosens something in your chest, something that has been achingly tight for weeks now. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“And getting high as hell.”

“That’s a given.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson angst #written by me #my posts

[mediawhorefics]

hiii, hope you're fine, was wondering if you have any recommendations for murder mystery books? idealy sapphic

hiiii i've been fine (pretty atrocious actually my entire life is falling apart hence why i haven't been able to maintain this second blog) i'm always here for book recs tho !!!!

this is actually a bit of a tricky one for me because i'm a big mystery fan, but i'm not huge on murder mysteries in general. i do love a challenge tho, so i'll see what i can find for you!

the last binding trilogy (freya marske) -> not quite murder mystery but a historical fantasy series ft. some murders and some mysteries. each book focuses on a queer couple and the second one ft. sapphics trying to solve a magical murder on a cruise ship. its mainly a romance series with a great magical mystery overarching plot. 10/10

i kissed shara wheeler (casey mcquiston) -> again a general mystery rather than a murder mystery but it's a sapphic ya romance about a prom queen disappearing after kissing her academic rival and said academic rival's obsession with finding her.

bury the lede (gaby dune) -> graphic novel about an intern at a newspaper stumbling upon a gruesome crime scene. (full disclosure, i dont remember anything about this one... i read it ages ago rip)

sadie (courtney summers) -> ya mystery novel. after her sister's murder, sadie, disappointed by the official investigation, skips town in pursuit of the murderer and justice for her sibling. meanwhile a radio personality overhears sadie's story at a gas station and becomes obsessed with finding her, starting a podcast to track his progress. not sapphic particularly and tw applies. it's a pretty harrowing book, but keeps you on the edge of your seat. apparently the audiobook is amazing.

big bad wolf series (charlie adhara) -> okay it's mlm and it's technically werewolf porn, but the mysteries in this ex-fbi agent partnered with a werewolf to solve werewolf crimes series are actually good and engaging and keep you on your toes. no one was more surprised than me.

the will darling adventures trilogy (kj charles) -> again mlm and more general mysteries than murder mystery specifically, but it's so good and there is a sapphic side pairing later in the series. it's set in the 1920s... will darling is a wwi vet who just inherited his uncle's second hand's bookshop which lands him in a world of trouble when both a gang of criminal and the war office end up on his doorstep looking for the same information. which he's pretty sure he doesn't have.

hither page (cat sebastian) -> sorry this one is mlm too rip. post wwii. a gruesome murder shocks a small community with a sprinkle of romance between the village's doctor and the spy sent undercover to solve the crime.

here are some books that fit the vibe that are on my to read and i'm excited to pick up, but obvs can't vouch for yet

last night at the telegraph club (malinda lo) -> sapphic love story set in 1950s san francisco chinatown

lavender house (lev a.c. rosen) -> described as knives out with a queer historical twist. set in the 1950s.

even though i knew the end (cl polk) -> historical fantasy murder mystery ft. a sapphic detective trying to catch a notorious serial killer to ensure she can have a future with the woman she loves.

a million to one (adiba jaigirdar) -> girl gang heist on the titanic. historical ya and sapphic.

meddling kids (edgar cantero) -> paranormal/horror/mystery grown up teen detectives reunite to solve a paranormal mystery fro their past. also queer.

the dead and the dark (courtney gould) -> paranormal/horror/mystery/ya/sapphic. logan, daughter of two ghosthunters, is determined to solve the mysteries of snakebite, oregon where weather patterns are odd and teenagers keep disappearing/showing up dead.

alright, i think that's all i can think of for now ??? i'll add to the list if something pops in my head, but hopefully that covers what you were looking for, at least a little? sorry i didn't 100% follow the brief for some of these haha.

#books #book rec #books rec #book recs

[leeknowsnot]

the artist (serial killer!hyunjin drabble)

genre: murder

warnings: mentions of blood & violence

just a short one

The coruscating gleams of the afternoon glow slowly basked down beneath the window frame. Darkness slowly embraced the four-cornered room, the air turning into a clammy atmosphere that bit through the skin. The smell of metal and dry steel mixed like bread and wine as the orange sun slowly painted the room a sunset red.

For the excruciating minutes that followed, silence deafend the walls and only the metal rustles from buckles echoed. A bearish whimper, and a manic hum. Hunter and prey, the horrifying calmness and limit of exchange of words escalated the dilation of the laggardly approaching evening climax.

The man struggled with all that his strength could muster, despite half of his will and energy spilled on the ground. Blood. The muffled and hapless screaming tore through his gargled throat and was only but a useless cry for help.

He continued to stare, eyes with an austere glint. Like a hyena towards its prey, waiting to pounce and tear off at the skin. To dig in through the flesh and feast on such a pure creature. The edge of his lips tugged upward a few inches. He observed his work. It was beauty. It was art.

But it was not enough.

As soon as darkness met the crevices of each corner, he was finally ready to create his next masterpiece. There he stalked, slowly and quietly towards his victim. A careful, yet menacing approach so as to leave the mind wondering in fear.

ㅤㅤㅤWhere is he? What is he doing? Is he going to kill me?

It was his favorite part. The introduction to a beautiful climax of murder and slaughter. An interlude to such a beautiful chorus of agonizing screams. He was going to write a symphony. An art. He was not going to destroy, no.

The coldness of his blade finally touched the man's cheek. It was as cold as ice but his presence was as cold as death and he spoke as cold as the metal.

"Do you know why I do this?" A pause followed by a low hum. "Humans are meant to make things more beautiful for this world."

"Such as how I will turn you into a piece of art. Don't worry. I'll make sure not a single drop is wasted," he leaned forward and whispered.

"Your blood with paint the walls. Your cries will add such a pretty melody. Your screams will harmonize with the silent winds," Hyunjin smiled. "Isn't it such a beautiful way to die? God will let you perish from petty accidents, illnesses. But I..."

He closed his eyes, breathing in air. "I'm letting you die in such a most honorable way."

Another muffled cry filled the air. He looked and raised an eyebrow. "Is there something that our precious star of the evening wishes to say?" and removed the cloth wrapped around his mouth.

A weak voice resonated. "Please stop."

His eyes squinted of a bit, lip twitching for a mere second and another smile appeared with an amused sigh. "You don't have to feel afraid."

Hyunjin took a small block of soft wood and placed it inside the other male's mouth. "We don't want to break our teeth now, do we?" 

And within the blink of an eye, he placed one of the man's finger between his pliers and slowly gripped the handle. The sound of crackling bones ruptured through the walls, a blood curdling scream pierced his eardrums. The piece of flesh and bones fell with a silent thud. He then proceeded to the second one, this time a louder snap than the one before it.

Two down and there were eight more but Hyunjin didn't want his patient fainting or dying on him from blood loss. It was time for doctor play. "Tell me mister, have you been cut up before?"

The man was in too much pain to even answer. The pain rung all the way through his brain, his nerves twitching from the sudden amputation, and body shaking from the immediate trauma from his hand.

"No? Too bad." Hyunjin placed the pliers on the small, wooden table and took a pair of latex gloves. "Let's proceed with making the art now, shall we?"

The man looked at him in horror between his pain and strongly shook his head. He chuckled and inched himself closer to his victim. "You worry too much."

He gently stroked and patted the man's head. "I'm good at my work but it'll hurt a lot since you're not under anesthesia so I'll make it quickly as possible as long as you don't struggle much. You can do that at least, yes?"

Cold steel slowly sliced through the man's skin, blood welcoming the open air and flesh tearing away from each other as his nerves snapped away. The amount of silent scream that the man muffled through the soft wood turned into hapless whimpers and endless streams of tears ran through his face.

"Let's see," Hyunjin mumbled. "I only cut a small opening since our objective for tonight is your kidney. We don't want such art to be rushed now, do we? Now be a good canvas for me, alright?"

He dug through the fat and blood, carefully tinkering with the innards and snipped off a blood vessel, earning another shriek. "Shh, alright. Alright. It'll be over soon. You will be beautiful soon."

But the evening was far from over. It was his first kill. The start of everything. The introduction to his opera. And the prologue to his anecdote.

And such as he had wanted, red painted the walls. The melody of cries, written. The harmonization of screams, composed. Such was his art. He was not a murderer, but an artist.

And he was going to make not just one, but many a masterpiece.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 

#hyunjin #skz #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #serial killer au

[look-i-love-u]

AU Fic Game

Finally home after a stupidly long day of work. Let's see what my tired brain is able to come up with...

Thank you for tagging me, my darlings: @creepkinginc , @shinygalaxyperson, @energievie, @juliakayyy

rules:

use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.

then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.

AU Generator: Criminal Minds Setting AU

Fanfic Trope: Write a story about one character being a human and the other being a ghost haunting them.

Title: The Milkovich Effect (based on "the Reid effect" in Criminal Minds)

FBI agent Mickey Milkovich worked his ass off to be in this position he never ever thought he'd find himself in. An agent with the BAU hunting those, he thought he would end up as himself. But instead of becoming a serial killer unde rhis father's thumb he'd carrying a badge now and rocking some tight black slacks and black shirts. Always. Exclusively. If you catch him on a good day, he might even throw on a well tailored suit jacket and sunglasses.

the real star is the thigh holster though. Because even though Mickey works mainly with his mind, in understanding people who commit cruel crimes, he also really enjoys just working through his frustrations sometimes... he gets in trouble for it. But he's also fantastic at his job, so his boss lets some things slide.

They have a running gag about "the Milkovich effect". It's basically the reverse Reid effect. Where children and dogs react weirdly to Reid, they flock to Mickey. As if they know he understands them, they just trust him. Soon Mickey will find out the effect also affects some other vulnerable entities....

in comes a call from Chicago. A serial killer is hunting pretty boys in Boystown. He soon gets the name "The Gentleman Killer". He always leaves his victims in hotel rooms and not alley ways. He doesn't leave marks on their bodies and covers their eyes with silk scarves and leaves a tip on their body.

There have been four victims when the BAU gets called in. When Mickey arrives in the city he always dreads visiting he gets partnered up to visit the newest crime scene with victim no.5. His name is Ian "Curtis" Gallagher. A dancer and bar tender down in boystown. Mickey barely can catch a glimpse at him when one of the technicians cry out that the victim still has a pulse.

Ian gets rushed to hospital. He's a fighter. He's in a coma but Mickey doesn't know. He expects that the guy, who's name he doesn't know since he had no ID with him, won't make it.

He knows he definitely didn't make it when he wakes up to a weird ginger looking... thing in his hotel room. He screams. It's embarrassing. but hey... there's a fucking ghost in his bedroom!

Ian follows Mickey around everywhere. Looks at evidence, asks questions, visits family members to question them. Uses his floatiness to look through people's stuff without a warrant.

Basically he is super annoying and super helpful and Mickey and his silvery shadowy somehow grow closer. Share their stories with each other. Ian thinks he's probably dead too.

Maybe makes Mickey feel guilty so he visits Ian's family and gives them some last messages...

They solve the case in the mean time of course. A doctor named Lloyd, going by Ned, gets arrested for being "The Gentleman".

As a goodbye present Mickey goes to visit the Gallaghers. He realizes he knew Ian as a kid. He also realizes he somehow, kinda, has the hots for a ghost? Who very surely watched him sleep and get off? Maybe some weird ghost shivery touching happened?! Hm... anyway... Mickey finds the Gallaghers sad and stressed out. He gets shouted at. Punched by Lip. Followed by driven to the hospital by Debbie who shows him that Ian really isn't dead and he's the one victim who didn't die at the hands of Lloyd Lishman.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck

Ian has a meltdown and touches his body which causes him to jerk and sputter and... wake up??!

aaaaaand he looks at Mickey and... Mickey touches his hand and he's real aaaaand that's the end.

I'm tagging: @michellemisfit, @ian-galagher, @surviving-maybe, @vintagelacerosette, @suzy-queued, @ardent-fox

#sooooo this got long #oooopps #I just love CM #au game #tagging game #personal #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher

[his-red-right-hand]

His Red Right Hand, Chapter 2

You awoke to an unpleasantly dry mouth, and a distinct feeling of disappointment. Luckily a nurse noticed you were awake and fixed the first problem with some ice chips, and the second was slightly mitigated as the pain meds started to take effect.

The next few hours passed in a haze of doctors - the blade had nicked your kidney but they were able to fix the damage - and the police questioning you. Apparently being The Ghost Face’s only surviving victim made them really want to talk to you.

And if you found yourself engaging in a little creative editing of what had actually happened, well could anyone blame you for not wanting them to know exactly what had occurred between the two of you? You still weren’t really sure of what to make of it.

So, yes, you had stumbled upon the scene by accident whilst trying to make your way home. And then you “Just froze up out of fear I guess.” The wounds on your throat and shoulder were “He was just trying to get a reaction out of me I think. But I was kinda terrified, so...” No conversation, no promises, no aching tension between the two of you that made you feel like you were aflame when you thought back to it.

You weren’t sure when you became such a good liar; must have been all those reassurances that you were doing ‘Just Fine’ over the years. But you nodded solemnly when you needed to, and promised to contact them if you remembered anything else - no matter how small. You refused to feel bad for lying to the cops; it’s not like what you left out would actually help. It just proved exactly how fucked up you were. And he was, but he was a serial killer, so that just felt like a given.

You had about half an hour of nothing to do but stare at the clock, stare at the ceiling; and enjoy your opiates before your next visitor.

A reporter.

“Jed Olsen,” he introduced himself with a charming smile, one dimple crinkling a cheek as he did. “Roseville Gazette. Would you be okay with answering some questions?” He was cute, in that clean cut All American way, square glasses framing his deep hazel eyes, dressed business casual, a small scar cutting across his lips that was probably from some sort of sporting misadventure; and his dark brown hair in that floppy curtains style that was so popular at the moment. You were pretty sure it was the painkillers talking when you were thinking about how much you wanted to run your hands through it.

“Yeah,” you croaked, wincing a little. You pushed yourself up a little with your elbows before reaching out to the cup of water on the side table, taking a few gulps before trying again. “Yeah, sure.” You gestured vaguely for him to take a seat.

The dimple got deeper as he pulled up the visitor chair to the side of your bed. Sitting down, he reached into his satchel, pulling out a yellow legal notepad and a mini tape recorder. That was turned on and placed on the side table, before he reached back into the satchel to get out a biro, uncapping it with his teeth, flipping it in his fingers and sliding the end of the pen back into the lid in a well practised motion. “Promise this won’t take very long.”

He leant over towards the recorder, quickly stating “Jed Olsen, Hospital interview,” before making eye contact with you, leaning back into the chair. “So, tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Not straight to the stabbing, huh?”

“I figured I’d ease you into it.”

That was nice at least, you had a feeling it was the only thing you were going to be talking about for a while. “Not that much to say. Born here, school here, graduated here, I work at Roseville Books.”

“No college?”

“Started doing English Lit at Roseville Community, but dropped out after my first year. Didn’t see much point, and I like working in the bookshop, so...” College implied a level of future you never really felt like you had.

“Big reader, huh?”

“Used to be. Don’t have time for it so much any more.”

“What’s your favourite genre?”

You huffed out a small laugh, a twinge in your side making you regret it a little. “You’re not going to believe this, but horror. I like to read about serial killers and monsters.”

He smiled at you, “Irony is rarely fun outside of stories. So, do you go to parties often?”

“Not really. One of my friends got invited; she’s back at college doing a bookkeeping course for her job. It was a Girl’s Night Out thing. Just like old times,” You can feel your smile turn a little pained as you said that.

His voice turned gentle as he got to the inevitable question. “Do you mind telling me the events leading up to your attack?”

“Everyone was having fun, but I wasn’t really feeling it. I think I’m getting a bit old for college parties.” You let out a self conscious chuckle, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I went out for some air and figured if I started walking then I could make the last bus. I saw a flash of light, wanted to make sure it wasn’t someone creeping on people making out or something. Which was a really dumb idea. Everyone... everyone was already dead when I found them.”

“And that’s where you saw their attacker?”

“Yeah. He was taking pictures of them. Then he saw me. I froze up. He came at me, pushed me up against the wall. Then he stabbed me.” You probably shouldn’t be so blasé about it, but after the amount of times you went over this with the police you had really lost the ability to care.

“Did he say, or do anything else that you can remember?”

“I think he maybe took my picture before I passed out? But otherwise, just the,” you mimed a stabbing motion, popping your tongue as you did; which made Jed chuckle for a few moments, before he calmed himself down and eased back into Professional Journalist Mode.

“So, you’re the only victim to survive a Ghost Face attack. How does that make you feel?”

“I was pretty confused when I woke up, didn’t expect that to happen.” No way you were a good enough liar to fake any sort of happiness or gratitude at being alive. Confused was a good enough stand in for disappointment. “I don’t really think I got lucky, or anything like that. I think that... I stumbled in on something by accident and was enough of an afterthought to him that he didn’t care enough to make sure it took.”

Jed nodded solemnly, refilling your water glass from the jug as you reached over to take another drink, smiling gratefully at him. “Any advice for our readers if they happen to encounter the Ghost Face?”

“Uh... Don’t be an idiot and just stand there, run as fast as you can.”

That got Jed chuckling again; reaching for his tape recorder and putting it back in his satchel. “I think I got everything I need, thanks for talking with me.”

“You’re a better conversationalist than the cops are.”

“I weirdly hear that a lot,” he replied, pen capped and notepad put away as he started to stand. “I’ll call you if I need to check anything, don’t worry, I already have your number - in a not creepy way, the sheriff’s office gave me some basic info about you.”

“I dunno, I think them just giving out stuff about me is a little creepy, but that’s on them, not you.”

He smiled at you, that dimple crinkling; and you could imagine that there were probably quite a few people in Roseville who really wanted that smile directed at them. “Look after yourself, hope you’re starting to feel better soon.”

“Hey, uh, Jed? Can I tell you something, like, off the record?”

He turned back towards you, sitting back down in the chair he’d half gotten out of, there was a look of interest in his eyes, but he didn’t get his notepad back out of his satchel. “Yeah, of course.”

“I didn’t, just freeze up. I saw him, I saw what he did to those people, and I just thought ‘Oh, he’s going to kill me. I’m going to die.’ And I was just… okay with it. It’d all be over with. Fuck, it was a relief.” You leant back in the hospital bed, looking up at the bland ceiling, the stains on the tiles there almost forming a picture in your still fuzzy mind. “I’m not like, suicidal or anything, you know?” You lifted your head up to make eye contact with the journalist again, the words starting to tumble out of your mouth. “It’s just, I felt more alive in those moments when I thought he was going to kill me then I have in…” A pause, the realisation of quite how long it had been now feeling like more of a punch to the gut than the stab wound in your side. “In years. That fucked up or what?”

“I don’t - I don’t think that makes you fucked up.” You could see the fingers of his hand flex, like he wanted to try and reach out, maybe in comfort, but thought better of it. You weren’t quite sure what was brewing behind his eyes, but there was an intensity there that spoke to… Something. The moment was broken by him letting out an awkward chuckle, rubbing at the back of his head as he broke eye contact. “Maybe not entirely healthy, but not fucked up. Anyway, I really should be getting back to the office…” He trailed off, and you felt a little bad for just dumping that on him; he already had enough messed up shit to deal with reporting on the murders, he didn’t need you being a freak at him.

“Yeah, don’t let me keep you. Thanks for listening though.”

“It’s no problem, really.” He responded with a smile, and for a moment you almost believed him. He dug a hand into his satchel, and pulled out a business card, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours as you took it from him. “You ever need to talk again, there’s my number.”

You looked at it, a mobile number as well as his office line, fancy. “Thank you Jed,” you said softly, smiling at him as he gave you a wave goodbye and headed out. Oh, you were tired, but it felt a bit better to get that load off of your mind. And at least one person didn’t think you were utterly insane, which was nice. Maybe you’d just close your eyes for a little bit...

--

Your very well earned nap ended abruptly with the loud proclamation of “I am so sorry!” Pulling a face as you started to sit up, hearing “Were you sleeping? Sorry!” your brain vaguely alert enough to identify the voice as Sarah, long time friend and worst designated driver you’d ever known.

“I was waking up anyway,” you lied as you opened your eyes, shifting your pillows to help prop you up, stealing a glance at the window to see the length of the shadows outside, letting you know you’d managed a couple of hours of rest. “The meds got me all dozy, so don’t worry about it.”

“Are you in lots of pain?” she asked, all big eyes and self recrimination as she sank into the chair that had been left vacant by Jed, still by the side of your bed.

“Right now? No, they got me on the good stuff. And as long as nothing happens to me overnight, I should get to go home tomorrow. Ask me again in about 3 days.”

“I am so sorry though. I shouldn’t’ve gone off and left you alone. It was meant to be girl’s night...” The quivering lip and honest sorrow in her eyes kept you from commenting about how she wasn’t the only one who’d done that, or that she was your first visitor not on business. You especially squashed down the thought about how you were having to comfort everyone else about almost getting murdered. Then again, you only needed comfort for the almost part.

“Hey, you had no way of knowing, I’m the one who decided to walk home. Please stop crying.”

Sarah stopped sniffling quite so much, your half hearted absolution apparently good enough for her, and started to fill you in on what you had missed. Which honestly wasn’t that much, although losing your two days off a week to being stabbed stung worse than the wound itself right now.

After about half an hour of this one of the nurses came by to let Sarah know that visiting hours were over (also delivering a super appetising looking dinner tray), and the tears started again. After a very awkward hug that just about avoided pulling your IV out, and a promise to call her once you got home, you were left alone to pick at your salisbury steak and contemplate life.

You hated contemplating life.

And the food wasn’t much better.

The cruel sting of mundanity after the thrill of your flirtation with death ached deeper than the disappointment of waking up. Having to go back to the life that has killed your spirit so that the flesh was eager to follow felt cruel. How could anything be the same after you felt that spark of life once more?

The answer was simple. That’s what life was. You’d just lost the ability to fool yourself that it was anything else. Life was a grindstone, and you had been worn down to so little remaining.

What’s worse was that you knew you were lucky. You had a job you had enjoyed at the beginning. Your manager being relatively relaxed and probably more than willing to give you time off to recover, but you needed the money.

As you finished digging a hole through the powdery mashed potatoes, you pushed the tray away from you with a small huff of disgust, picking up the fruit cup as the probably most edible thing in this whole place. You weren’t particularly hungry anyway. You never were, going days of barely eating anything except the odd cereal bar, sometimes cup ramen, then being struck with an intense hunger that had you ordering way too much take-out. Then you could pick at that over a few days until you felt hungry for anything again. At least it kept your grocery bills cheap.

Exhaustion echoed in you, bone deep. Maybe all those sleepless nights were catching up with you, or maybe it was the pain meds, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Wouldn’t it be nice to just not wake up? You felt yourself drifting off to sleep again, hoping you would dream of a masked man making your dreams come true.

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #fiction #dbd #dead by daylight

[kjzx]

who are the two boys in your pfp?

Hoo boy!

They're Sergey Razumovsky (the redhead) and Oleg Volkov (the brunette), the two antagonists of the Russian comics by Bubble called Major Grom - they're also two of the protagonists in an on-going comic called Plague Doctor. They also play a big role in the movie "Major Doctor: Plague Doctor", and at the end of May there's gonna be another movie where they play a big role called "The Game", both are inspired by the comics but aren't a direct 1:1 reenactment of them .

Sergey is a very rich IT guy/CEO of the biggest Russian social media called Vmeste.

He also happened to be a vigilante serial killer called Plague Doctor which targeted specifically powerful bad people who do evil without repercussions (corrupt rich people and their entitled kids), and Oleg is his childhood friend who ended up as mercenary who can do anything for his friend from getting him out of prison to helping him take brutal revenge on the cop that got him in prison to begin with.

If you're interested in them I recommend watching the movie first, both of the interpretations of the characters are interesting albeit pretty different in some ways, but the movie is easier to access than the comics (it was on Netflix at some point, I'm not sure if it still is though). Also, the movie is just written better as a story and is also more politically self aware, like you shouldn't expect any criticism of the police in the first arcs of the comics/Sergey's queercoding originally came from a bigoted place. It gets so much better as other writers get involved though, nowadays pretty much everyone who's involved with the comics is either queer or an ally, it's not really out there for obvious reasons, but if you know what to look out for you'll notice many interesting details both in the later comics and the movie. Pretty much everyone agrees that they're gay.

If you're 18+ and have any more questions I can give you an invite to a discord server about the comics and the movies (I'm logged out of discord so I can't rn so send another ask), it has some of the coolest people I've met in fandom period, sadly I'm not sure if you can figure out the website without help like that if you do decide to read them, it's a whole puzzle to do that

Here's some more canon art of these two:

#I'm very bad at info dumping and it always feels so wrong and I spent so much time trying to put this into words #But hopefully if anything this caught your attention!! They're very interesting morally gray characters and there are #so many talented people involved with the movies and the comics! #Natalia Kay Zaidova (my pfp and author of the second to last picture) is one of my favorite artists period #Plague doctor #Serovolk #^the name of the ship

[deceasedream69]

BAIT

I really like this one lol

Summary: you're the bait to catch a killer and Spencer is your back up. *pure fluff*

_________________________

- "you're the one who fits the killer's profile"

- "I'm not complaining, I'm even excited to do it", I said taking one of my knives out

- "no knives", said Hotch looking directly at me.

- "that's no fun", I said putting the knife back.

- "are you sure we should risk someone from the team, there's a high chance this will go wrong and-", Spencer started rambling.

- "hey, don't worry, pretty boy, she knows how to take care of herself", said Derek.

- "and I have the perfect dress for you, and it's perfect to kick ass too", said Emily smiling

- "show me"

We went to her house. We as in Emily, JJ, Penelope and me.

- "it's beautiful", said JJ admiring the dress

- "ok, I'll go put it on, thanks Emily", i said grabbing the dress and walking to the bathroom.

I put the dress on and walked out of the bathroom.

- "goddamn, it's perfect for you", said Emily. That made me blush a little

- "let's not get distracted, we have work to do"

- "I know someone who is going to get distracted", said JJ teasing me.

- "who?", Asked Penelope innocently

- "a certain doctor, sorry, bartender for today", said JJ smiling.

- "y/n and Spence?!", Said Penelope and Emily at the same time.

- "y/n and Spence?!", I said mocking them. "Shut it, there's nothing there, specially on the other side, now let's get going".

I actually thought he was cute, but come on, his a freaking genius, why would he like to be with me.

- " wow baby girl, looking hot", said Derek when I entered the van. The van was parked behind the building, with all the equipment to hear everything from a microphone that was between my bra, and the cameras that were inside the building.

- "thanks, I just need one of those things you put in your ears", I said smiling because I had no idea what they're call.

- "here", he said giving me one

- "thanks", I put it in and got out of the van.

The doors opened and I got inside. My mission was to flirt with the millionaire who was suspect for the murders of at least 5 women. And get him to try something on me.

There was a lot of people there, all of them seemed pretty... Boring.

I walked to the bar and started to look for our unsub.

- "would you like anything to drink?", Said a voice from the bar. I turned around, it was Spencer, he looked so hot. He had a blue button shirt, the sleeves rolled up a little, his hair was messy and the last button of his shirt was unbuttoned.

- "there are so many options", I said lying, obviously I couldn't drink right now. I actually didn't like drinking.

- "you can ask anything, darling, I'll pay for it", said a voice from behind me. He slide his hand across my back, I turned around.

- "hi", I said softly. "And you are?"

- "so rude of me, I'm Thomas", he said grabbing my hand and kissing it. I smiled. "And you, pretty thing?"

*Thing? Of course he just said that*, i thought.

- "I'm Diana".

- "Diana... Would you like to dance with me?"

He didn't even let me finish, he pulled me into the dancefloor and we started dancing salsa. He was a great dancer, such a pity he was a serial killer.

I could feel a lot of people staring at us. Spencer was one of them. Of course, he was there to protect me, but his eyes looked like he was mad at the guy. Thomas was very touchy after all.

We finished dancing and walked to the bar again.

- "so, now that I showed you my moves on the dancefloor, I can show you other moves", he said kissing my hand.

- "I would love that", I said taking a shot from the bar finishing it in seconds, I grabbed his tie and pulled him in a kiss.

- "you know, we should take this upstairs, for more privacy", he winked at me.

- "why not", I said smiling and following him.

*Spencer's pov*

Y/n took a shot from the bar and drank it in seconds, I never saw her drink alcohol.

I wanted to interrupt everything and just punch the guy in the face, but we needed more evidence to lock him up.

They started kissing right there, I was so disgusted, I had to look away. Then they started to walk away from the bar.

- "guys, what do we do now?"

- "let her, if she really needs help she'll tell us", said Hotch.

*Y/n's pov*

We entered the room. There were other two guys inside.

- "Diana, meet my friends, Steve and Carl"

- "I thought we were going to get privacy", I said trying to sound innocent.

- "oh, don't worry, darling. We will". He said closing the door.

- "shouldn't we intervene now?", Said Derek to Hotch.

- "wait". Hotch knew the potential you had, so he let you have a little fun before actually arresting the unsubs.

- "now, what a shitty ass English accent, just because you say "darling" doesn't mean you can not put effort into the rest of the words", I said looking at Thomas.

- "what the fuck do you think you are", he said walking towards me.

- "men, this is going to be too easy".

*Spencer's pov*

There were a lot of screams coming from our intercoms. I was more and more worried by the second. But it got worse when we heard a gunshot.

All of the people at the building started to walk out of there. Everyone scared.

The team entered through the back door and we ran to the room. Kicking the door when we got there.

The three unsubs were on the floor. Y/n standing in front of them, breathing heavily.

She turned around and we noticed a cut on her left cheek. And a bloody knife on her right hand.

*Y/n's pov*

- "one of them had a gun, but they're all alive, sadly", I said walking towards the exit.

I got to the bar, dipped my knife in a random cup that was there, shook it a little and cleaned it with a napkin.

- "are you okay?", Said a voice from behind me.

- "we catch the guys, I'm more than okay", I said smiling softly.

- "does it hurt?", He said pointing at my cheek.

- "it burns a little"

He walked behind the bar and got a first aid kit. Got a few things out and started to clean my wound.

-"auch", I said backing my head.

- " sorry"

- "it's ok, you can continue", I said putting my face closer to him.

I got distracted looking into his eyes. They are so beautiful, and the fact that he was focused doing something made them even more mesmerizing.

- "want a drink?"

- "I don't drink"

- "but you had a shot before kissing the unsub"

- "hey, I needed a little push, ok?", I said laughing.

- "and how many drinks would you need to kiss me then?", He asked getting closer to my face"

- "let me show you", I said grabbing a cup that only had water, drinking it, and pulling him from his shirt.

After we pulled away he had a confused look on his face.

- "I didn't taste any alcohol in your mouth. That sounded weird, what I meant was-"

- "this is water", I said lifting the cup in front of him. "There is your answer, 0 shots". I said smiling and kissing him again.

#fanfic #imagines #writing #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid #criminal minds #oneshot

[skylarmoon71]

Aaron Hotchner- Oneshot (Criminal Minds)

"Hotch, you need to see this."

There was a part of him that thought he knew what he was walking into. They'd just rescued a victim from an unsub that took quite a while to track. So when they got there and the man was already subdued, unconscious on the ground, Hotch was relieved.

Through their survey of the woman's house, it became apparent that this wasn't a normal freelance photographer. The many papers and maps of the DC district caught him off guard. His eyes ran over the stickers placed expertly on all the locations of the previous murders. All leading up to your house.

"We need to get her back to quantico."

It's obvious now that there are a few things he needs answered.

~Quantico~

When they seat you in the interrogation room. Your face remains neutral. You can't say you didn't see this coming.

"Aren't you going to ask for a phone call?"

"I think the first sign of guilt is rushing to get my attorney Agent Morgan." He smiled, turning his eyes to the glass behind him.

"Good call."

No one told you why you were brought here. You had an inkling feeling you knew why though. The actual killer was probably locked up. So that could only mean one thing.

"They found the maps."

You were so sure you had this under wraps. When someone else entered, your form straightened. He oozed authority. His gait, stature, eyes. Everything about him just emitted leadership.

"My name is Aaron Hotchner. I'm the Unit Chief of this department." He brushed his tie, taking a seat. He dropped the file case onto the table, opening the folder. You swallowed.

"Why am I here?" You need to keep your voice level.

"How did you know Mr. Keller would be at your house?"

You were right.

"I saw the news. Figured I was better safe than sorry."

"There was no way to know he'd come after you specifically."

"Life is unpredictable. I was prepared. "

"I noticed the other markings in your maps. You seem to have a strange hobby."

"What can I say, maps intrigue me."

"It says here that you live alone. No family or spouse."

"Is there a question in there somewhere Agent Hotchner."

Morgan observed the interaction carefully.

"You don't seem very concerned about your position." Hotch stated

"I'm innocent. What do I have to be concerned about? You came in here and intentionally stated your name and position. A tactic used to disarm and intimidate. Your agent here was being overly friendly, building a rapport with me in hopes that I would lower my guard and unintentionally spill some kind of information on the case. Except I'm not some crazed fan, or killer. So you can drop the act. "

Morgan couldn't hide his surprise. When you realized all that you said, you pulled your hands off the table. Hotch studied the action. Your hands were now laying in your lap defensively.

On the other side of the glass Reid, Prentiss and Rossi were conversing.

"Did you see that kid?" Reid nods.

"She profiled him." Reid mutters in awe. The buzzing of Reid's phone made him look away. He answered.

"Hey Garcia."

"Hi, so I did a deep dive on your little photographer. For the most part it's pretty normal. On social media there's shots of all the gigs she's done. Her work is pretty popular. Bank accounts are average. No strange transactions. Aside from her love for fantasy romance novels online, there's nothing that even significantly suggests serial killer. "

"Why do I feel like there's a but coming?"

"Ever the genius. But! Three years ago she was involved in a shooting. She was shot point blank in a bank heist. Reid, it says here that she saved a child. Eight year old Shelly Combs. The doctors called her recovery miraculous. From what I can tell, she's a hero. After that is where it gets a bit strange."

"Strange how."

"Well I'm reading some of her online activities. Before the accident there was very little information on any kind of brain teasers. But five months ago that increased. There's these mini tournaments they hold. You basically create names and compete. It helps you interact with people all around the world. The challenges range from historical events, to math, to psychology. Just about any kind of intellectual challenge. Reid, from what I'm seeing here-"

"She's a genius..." He muttered.

"Bingo."

"Thank you Garcia."

"Anytime!"

Reid hung up the phone, and Rossi turned.

"Good news."

"I think I figured out why she had those maps." He didn't say much more, just headed for the door. Both Hotch and Morgan turned upon his entrance. The door closed and Reid approached.

"What day were you born? "

You narrowed your eyes.

"You have the files, why are you asking me?"

"I think you know."

Hotch caught the brief look of uncertainty cross your eyes.

"March 24th, 1982. 12:25pm. Saint Bonaventure Hospital. San Jose, California. "

"How many lakes are there in Texas?"

"Seven Thousand and Three. "

"How many are natural?"

"Only one has been recorded as a natural lake. Caddo. Located in East Texas. "

"How many bones are there in the body?"

"Two Hundred and Six. Four in the leg, twenty-seven in the hands, twenty six in the foot-" You stopped yourself, exhaling heavily. When you reached to press a hand to your temple, Reid concluded his study. They'd gotten it all wrong.

"Hotch, you can let her go. She's not an unsub."

They were a little confused when Reid walked in spouting random facts, but when you started answering, it all became clear.

"You were in a shooting, that's why you still get migraines. " You frowned. This was what you had been trying so hard to avoid.

"They were right about you. Spencer Reid. The youngest to join the FBI. A genius."

"I could say the same about you."

"I'm not a genius." The insinuation alone seemed to agitate you.

"A bullet went through my head. Straight into the frontal lobe. For most people that guarantees death, but I got dumb headaches and a brain that now needs constant information to stay active. You must be pretty proud of yourself."

They realized that the topic wasn't exactly one you wanted to have.

"You were tracking the unsub, trying to solve the case." When he saw your hand ball into a fist, he knew he'd hit the mark.

"I was too late. When I saw the first body I tried triangulating the others. I had an estimate for the other two women, but when I called the precinct I kept getting denied. They thought I was another person looking for fame. The last one is where I spotted the pattern. How ironic that it led right back to me. It felt justified. Why should I live when two innocent people who didn't stand a chance lost their lives. It wasn't fair."

There was regret and shame in your eyes. All of which they could all relate too. There was very little Hotch could say that would give you a piece of mind. So he decided right then, why not give you a reason, something to help you move on.

"If you were given the chance, would you help people?"

Your eyes darted up. There's a bit of hesitance, he can see that. But also hope.

"I..." You gulp.

"I'd like to try."

That was all he needed to hear.

~~~~

"So you're just like our boy wonder." Garcia was currently probing you for information. While you kept adjusting your blazer.

"Not exactly. I don't have any qualifications to be an actual agent. So I'm consulting. I've applied to start my studies in Criminology."

"But you are smart."

The statement pauses your constant fidgeting.

"I'm not." Your eyes move to Reid. He's filling out a crossword. Your eyes mark each movement.

"He'll be done in five seconds." Garcia scoffs.

"There's no way you can know that he'll be-"

"Done." Reid states, placing the paper down. When Garcia gapes at Reid, he raises a brow.

"What." Reid asks.

"It's nothing." You head for the bathroom.

You feel a bit annoyed. It was wrong of you to get riled up over this. But everytime they compared you to Reid, it felt like an insult to him. He was special. You weren't. A part of you knows you really have no place in the BAU. But you wanted to help. Regardless of your insecurities. You never even made it to the bathroom. You were just standing at the side, staring at the images of respected agents. Ironic this is where you ended up.

"Are you regretting your decision?" Hotch's voice pulls you out of your little pity party.

"I don't regret it. I just feel like I'm in high school again trying to prove I belong. "

"You have nothing to prove. I asked you to come."

"I know."

"Then you know you're capable of a lot. I didn't ask you here so you can compare yourself to anyone. I want your insight. You'll be a part of this team."

He's right. All he expected was what he already knew you were capable of. But it doesn't stop you from worrying. That at some point you'll fall short, and that will cost someone their life. So you banish the thought from your mind. For now, maybe you just have to focus on what you can control.

"What's the case?"

He just sends you a smile, and you fight back one of your own as you head to the table with the rest of the team.

~

As the weeks fly by, you find yourself becoming more comfortable with the team. Your very first case was a bit gruesome.

Decapitation.

The profile has led you to believe that whoever this is, he's not reliving some traumatic childhood memory. He enjoys this. The pain it causes not just his victims, but the family. That's why when they were about to confront the unsub, you weren't in the field. You didn't have the training to be out there with them. They'd told you to stay at the station while they went through the list Garcia compiled of possible suspects.

So you wait.

But sitting around in that building was making you anxious. They've been gone for a while, yet still no word. All you'd done was step out of the precinct for a few minutes to get some air clear your head.

"Sir, right now we're working to find the man responsible. There's nothing else we can do, please go home." From the exasperated tone of the officer, you know this man has probably visited multiple times. It's understandable.

"Sir."

The older man turns to you, and you mean to walk over and comfort, but something about his body language is off. You aren't sure why, but you mentally go over the profile in your head.

"He may be unsuspecting. There's a good chance he'll insert himself into the investigation. A concerned relative, even a reporter."

Swallowing, you do your best to school your features.

"Is there something I can help you with?" You hope your voice isn't too shaky.

"It's just my daughter, she was taken by that monster."

His sadness lacks the usual markers you spot from a person that grieves. You take a small step back. There's no way for you to run without him picking up on it. You're scared.

"Can you help me?" He takes a step forward.

"I-I'll talk to one of the officers. Just stay right there." You try to move back, but he pulls out a gun. Someone screams, and others scramble from in front of the station. You know cops will begin rushing out in the matter of seconds. If it comes down to it, he'd start shooting recklessly. His plan was to go down with as many people as he can. Without thinking you jump at him. He doesn't anticipate it, neither do you. Both your bodies tumble, and a shot goes off.

The bullet has struck your shoulder, but the gun is out of his reach.

"GET DOWN!!"

The yell of many officers echo, and you keep your head pressed to the floor. Your attacker isn't as obedient. He jumps upright, charging at them, and a number of bullets resound in the area. You just stare as he falls like a tree right in front of you. He's merely a few inches away, and his face is directly in front of you, eyes wide, body unmoving. Your entire body is shaking. Whether from shock, or fear, you don't know. Even when an officer rushes to help you to your feet, you don't really move. Those eyes seem engraved in your mind. They carry you away, and all you can do is wait for the team.

~~~

"Thankfully the bullet went directly through. We're keeping her overnight for observation, but she'll be cleared to leave tomorrow. I'd suggest she take time off to get fully healed. "

"Thank you."

Hotch shakes the man's hand as he walks away. When Hotch turns back, they all seem to rise from their seats.

"They're going to keep her overnight, but she's fine. " Garcia exhales, and Morgan rubs her shoulder. Everyone looks more relaxed.

"You all should get some rest. We had a tough case. I'm going to see her."

For the most part they seem reluctant, but there's a subtle look of guilt in Hotch's eyes. He blames himself. Rossi gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Get some rest yourself Aaron." He nods, and they disperse. Hotch watches them exit, turning back to head down the hallway. When he turns a corner, he knocks on the door before him as he enters.

Your head lifts, and you smile.

"HOTCH!"

Your tone is loud and peppy. You press your fingers to your lips as he closes the door.

"Shhhhh! Don't be so loud."

He stifles a laugh. It's obvious that you were high on painkillers.

"What did they give you?" He asks to take a seat.

"Morrrrphineeeee." You grin.

"It seems you have a very low tolerance."

"Yep!! Runs in the family." You basically sing.

He leans back in the chair, and you look at him.

"Why so sad?"

You push out your lips, and he wishes he had a camera to record this behavior. Because when you came to, he was sure you wouldn't believe a word. His eyes run over your body. The bandages on your shoulder trigger his guilt.

"I'm the reason you got hurt. I brought you into this. I left you unprotected."

"It's not your fault Hotchy. You're a good boss. You gave me a job!! Now I fight crime like a hero. We're like Batman and Robin." You whisper the last part like it's a secret.

"Thank you for looking out for me Batman." Your head presses back into the pillow, and Hotch can't help but feel relieved that it all worked out. It appears you're drifting off to sleep. He just reaches over, gently taking your hand, and you squeeze it softly.

"Thanks Hotchy.." You murmur.

"You're welcome."

#aaron hotchner #love #trust #care #cutenes #understanding #team #bau #aaron x reader #fight #crime #profilers #derek morgan #spencer reid #david rossi #Penelope Garcia #change #geniusreader #accidents #neardeath

[misty-caligula]

More disorganised s2e7 thoughts part 2

Continuing with the strong theme of “These women are all the same, deep down” having Misty making jokes to Shauna about how easily she kills and unintentionally offending her as she struggles with her strong desire not to kill the goat, next to Shauna calling Misty a serial killer and her whole spiral about it, contrasted with teen!Misty’s complete breakdown about the baby, Kristen and Coach, desperate not to have more blood on her hands, vs Shauna handling her grief through beating Lott to pieces, therapy through getting blood on her hands. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a show do something quite like this before, especially with a character like Misty. Not quite a redemption arc, not quite a forgiveness, just... an empathy arc.

---

Shauna confirming that her unwillingness to connect to Callie comes down to a fear of losing her, a struggle to invest in people who may be taken away again, like Jackie, like the baby. Was pretty sure this was the case, especially after s2e6′s line ‘You try not to love them but of course you do.” Poor woman’s heart has been broken too much, and she just can’t handle it happening again, even at the cost of her own happiness and the love of her own family.

---

Misty’s so used to manipulating people, so used to getting what she needs with violence and threats. From the first minutes with Coach she’s pushing him away when she wants to be closer, her ruses and traps are obvious and toxic. She sees him try to kill himself and uses every tactic she can think of to stop him, and nothing works.

(sidenote: EVERYONE sees Misty as a vicious heartless killer, from adult!Shauna to the girls in the wilderness who assume she killed Kristen, to Coach who genuinely thinks that she can just push him off the ledge. No wonder so many in the fandom seem to as well.)

But what actually stops Coach, what pulls him back is a genuine display of her heart, a moment of that true connection that she so struggles to make. She actually opens herself up and even in his intensely stressed out state he can’t bring himself to hurt her like that. SO curious to see how their dynamic changes. Also incredibly surprised to see him survive the episode.

---

While they were at the compound hanging out and Misty tries to ask a question about the first summer and gets immediately shut down as being inherently inappropriate. Then Nat follows up with her own question, same topic, and is taken seriously. Sometimes I wonder how much Misty really can’t read the room, and how much it is just that the others are biased against her particularly and her way of communicating.

---

Tai just CAN’T stop being the one in charge, she immediately tries to solve Van’s unsolvable problem with some expert she knows, because of course HER doctor’s going to be better than anyone Van’s seen, is going to be a miracle worker, because she wants it to be that way. And the way that Van immediately shuts her down like, she’s mad but not at all surprised, she’s just exhausted and so used to it. There’s no point in pointing it out to Tai because it won’t help, and there’s no point arguing, she’s resigned and she doesn’t have time to waste on gordian knots anymore.

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When Lott’s trying to get them to leave to protect them, Nat says “come on, Lottie, we’re ALL here.”

There are 8 council members. Did all 8 make it back? Is there someone they think is dead, but isn’t? Am I reading too much into this?? Who knows...

#yellowjackets #spoilers