#like i do think history is an easy subject literature too. to me like the same way i never needed to study ecology cause | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shina913 · 1 year

Text

Flowerworks | KNJ

Flowerworks

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M (SFW)

Genre: Exes; pure angst; fluff

Warnings: a lot of angst; pining; meet-cute; suggestive language; missed opportunities; vague infidelity

Word count: 4,241 words

Summary: “The love you had in your past...unfinished, untested, lost love...seems so easy, so childish to those who chose to settle down. But it’s actually the purest, most concentrated stuff.”

A/N: This story was inspired by an anthology series that I had binged while I had Covid back in January this year. For a while, I've been wanting to do a rendition of that but I wasn't sure which member to 'cast.' But Indigo has such a great inspiration so I've revisited this draft and thought Namjoon would be the perfect angsty main character here. Also, Kelly Price's rendition of As We Lay was a good inspo for this as well, except it's got none of the spicy stuff and you're left with all angst!

A/N2: I've never been to the UK or Europe 🤡 so a lot of this is just talking out of my ass hoping it would make for an interesting backdrop. I apologize for any geographical inaccuracies. This isn't the first time I've mentioned Juan Luna in my fics--I just thought, wouldn't it be cool if Namjoon studied Filipino impressionists🤪. Anyway, hope the story still lands! 💙

“Thank you so much for the presentation, Dr. YLN. It was so refreshing to hear a new take on a subject that’s so rarely…uhm, what’s the word…”

“Discussed? Thought of?” You finish their sentence for them. You smile warmly at a young journalist who was covering your lecture as part of a feature piece they were doing for a magazine. After the program ended, they decided to come up for a side conversation.

“Yes, that’s right,” the journalist says. “Your perspective is so fascinating to me. I mean–when we were in grade school, these lessons were just so repetitive and boring. It’s practically a bird course,” they chuckled.

“Right, because you’re supposed to just fly right through it?” You joked. You, too, had that impression when you were much younger.

“Your research style is so much more interesting. I was elated to find out that you’re the historical consultant on that ‘Ilustrados’ series!”

You tried your best to stay humble but deep down, you were still pinching yourself about getting to work with a major studio and top-tier production team. “I saw it as a great opportunity for us history and literature majors to flex a little, you know?” Then you caught yourself and laughed. “Oh my god, that sounded so nerdy,” you flushed.

“Not at all! Don’t be too modest,” they giggled. “I think it’s great that we get to give stories like this a new angle.”

You smiled and mouthed your thanks.

“I’m curious, do you remember what or who inspired you to pursue history as one of your fields of expertise?”

You grew flustered then blew out a quick breath. “Wow, uhm…nobody’s ever asked me that!”

“I don’t have to include it,” the journalist adds.

Your brows furrowed. “Include what?”

“That story that’s written all over your face,” they say with a knowing look.

“Oh, well…I think I’ve always been on track to study literature in some shape or form. That was my chosen major in college. Pursuing a career in history, however…was a happy accident,” you recall fondly.

They smiled excitedly. “Please tell me more,” they urged.

You stifle a grin. It was one of, if not the most unforgettable time in your life. If you could ever capture lightning in a bottle–that was the moment to do it.

You began, “He was an art history major spending a year in France while I was a language and literature major spending a semester in London. I met him while on holiday at a cafe in Paris–”

“Hang on! I think I’ve heard this story before!” They interject.

You give them a confused look. Up until this moment, you’ve only spoken about him to your former flatmate and a couple of close friends. “Y-you have?” You ask slowly.

They let out a soft chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m kidding! Is that real?”

You laughed. “Yes, yes it is!”

“You know, most people are like–we met in college, lost touch for a while, then ran into each other on the street years later and had coffee.”

“Well…it does sound like quite the Hallmark movie plot, huh? The place we were at was certainly the perfect backdrop for it,” you smiled at the memory. “But, as unbelievable as it sounds, if it weren’t for him sparking my…” You cleared your throat, “...Enthusiasm in the subject and history in general–I wouldn’t be in this position today.”

It was indeed a serendipitous time in Paris, which began as a casual encounter over drinks, then eventually led to hours of exploring historic art districts with him. The day trips around the city certainly brought your interest in history to a whole different level.

“W-what happened to him?”

You shrug your shoulders. “After my break, I had to return to London. He wanted to come with me but he had some travel commitments with his fellow students. We agreed to meet at my place but–it just…didn’t work out for some reason.”

The journalist listened intently, indulging you in your story.

“I don’t know what happened. I thought we had a great connection. I mean, wasn’t that as perfect an opening to a relationship that you can get? Back then, I would go back and forth trying to think about how different it felt for me than it did for him.”

For a moment, you felt yourself slip again. But as you had done for the past several years, you smiled and shook your head to brush the memory aside to lock it away. Then, at your most vulnerable, you can unpack it again. You wave them off, “Anyway, that was such a long time ago, though!”

“How long?” They ask curiously.

“10 years,” another voice answered.

For that fraction of a second, your heart drops to your stomach, and you’re afraid to look up. This has to be another figment of your imagination. Still, you couldn’t help thinking about the times you wished to hear that voice again.

The journalist steps aside to clear the path. You finally peer up, blinking a few times to assure yourself that this was real.

There he was, standing in front of you–your lightning in a bottle…Namjoon. He had the biggest smile on his face and it was just as warm and bright as you remember it.

Suddenly feeling that they’ve intruded in a special moment, the journalist excuses themself and thanks you for the lovely conversation, promising to send you the initial draft of their feature via email.

As stunned as you were, you managed to string some words together. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“Hello, YN,” Namjoon greeted you as he moved closer.

“H-hi.” You were shocked to hear how calm your voice sounded when all you wanted to do was melt into a puddle.

You both stand in front of each other not knowing whether to shake hands or hug. Before you knew it, you were throwing your arms around his neck to embrace him. You feel his warmth envelop you, hearing him sigh faintly into your hair.

“It’s been a long time,” you say after pulling away. “Weren’t we supposed to meet in London?”

//FLASHBACK

When you met in Paris, he was only one of the handful of patrons who spoke English at the cafe. You don’t know how exactly your conversation began, but he started spouting some facts about craft beer as opposed to wine–and tried to convince you that one was better than the other.

After a few spirited arguments, you agreed to settle things…back at his flat, which was a block away from the cafe. Your worked out your differences in opinions in bed, eventually agreeing to disagree after he made you orgasm.

He later confessed that the spontaneous debate was a pickup tactic from him. He thought he was being clever but never expected you to offer up some valid points. But you told him that you thought he was cute so you were all-too-willing to be reeled in anyway.

Though you were on break, he was in the middle of his school term and had to spend time traveling within the city to check out recommended sites to fulfill his course requirements.

He invited you to come with him on a day trip to check out the former studio of an artist who turned out to be instrumental in their home country's rebellion. You were apprehensive but came with an open mind--and you never regretted it.

You spent the evening at his place once more...and a few more times after that. Your favorite thing was waking up next him in the mornings, exchanging innocent kisses in bed that always escalated to the point where one or both of you would end up moaning each other's name.

But when you weren’t in bed, you spent many hours just talking. He was so passionate about his studies as much as you were about yours. The way he spoke about art, its origins, and inspirations was so reverent, it was fascinating to experience a drop of his enthusiasm.

The day you had to return to London was difficult, not just for you but for him, too. He and a few of his fellow students were supposed to travel to Rouen and spend a few days there to check out some impressionist exhibits recommended by their teacher. He planned to take the ferry to visit you right after.

When you arrived at the train station, he noticed that he lost his phone somewhere between the ride from his flat to this point. You dug into your bag and retrieved an old receipt where you wrote your number and address down. He took it and slid it in between his book that he carried with him. Then, on the week that you were supposed to meet, the borders shut down.

//END FLASHBACK

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Mm-hm…you better be,” you respond wryly.

He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh…missed my alarm then, got caught up in the border lockdown. Before I knew it, I was stranded in Normandy for a bit before the school managed to make arrangements to get us back to Paris then back home.”

You’ll never forget it, since you, too, were stuck in a foreign land so far away from family.

“How come you never called?” It was a question that niggled at you for years.

He chewed at his bottom lip helplessly. “In the midst of all the chaos, I misplaced my book–the one where I kept that receipt where you wrote down your information.”

That all sounded too easy and far-fetched. But in the week that you spent with him, it wasn’t that hard to believe. He nearly left his passport behind at the bar that first night before going back to his flat; Once, he got off at the wrong stop after mixing up north and southbound trains.

You sighed. “Well…you’re here now. That’s all that matters, right? How did you know I’d be here?”

He smiled wistfully. “I saw your picture in one of our e-newsletters I get at work,” he answers. “I normally send those straight to my trash but something told me that I needed to take a look at it and…I’m sure glad that I did.”

That made your heart flutter. You made a mental note to thank the university’s Communications team for convincing you to do a headshot to promote the lecture series.

“Do you live around the area? Are you local?”

He shook his head gently. “No. I made the trip out here because I wanted to come see you.”

Your mouth falls open at his confession. “O-oh.”

“I wondered if I could take you out for dinner? There’s a bistro that I passed not too far from here. U-unless…you’ve already eaten–”

You snorted loudly then interjected, “Oh, please–you know I could always eat!” He laughs hysterically.

******

“Have you ever gone back?”

His eyes flick up at your question but the look he gave told you that you didn’t need to clarify it further.

“Mm-hm,” he answered affirmatively before adding, “Not as often as I’d like, though. And you?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Actually, a year after travel restrictions eased up, I went back right away.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

You nod and look at him enigmatically. “I went straight to Villa Dupont.”

Remembering the area so clearly, his lips twitch at the thought. “Luna’s atelier?”

You nodded again. He sat back on his chair then interlocked his fingers behind his neck before he tilted his head against them. “Wow. That’s…amazing!”

“What can I say? That’s where my career started,” you quipped.

“And here I was, thinking that I was such an idiot for taking this beautiful girl on the most boring, mind-numbing walking tour of Asian impressionist artists.”

You both laughed, but those walks with him were one of the best memories of your time there.

“Anyway, I came back a few more times after that for my doctoral dissertation. And now here I am, giving lectures on it.”

The look on his face showed pride and admiration. All those hours you spent talking, you both shared your dreams and hopes for the future. You both had your head in the clouds…just two kids trying to justify the relevance of your respective liberal arts programs.

“That’s amazing. Consider me envious,” he says in jest. “You’re traveling around the world…and living your dream.”

You wave him off. “It’s not so glamorous. These days, I’m happy if I get to squeeze in some personal time. Usually, I get to a place, spend most of my time working and…” Your eyes drift down to your left hand, picking up your drink, “...then I have to get back to my family.”

He follows your line of vision. It wasn’t the first time he’s clocked in the piece of jewelry you’ve worn for a number of years now. He noticed it when you took the menu from the host after they sat you down at your table.

He hadn’t asked about it then, nor did you ask him about the ring that he wore on his finger when he moved his wine glass to the edge of the table when the server returned to pour him a glass of red wine.

You cleared your throat. “So, what else have you been up to these days? Are you just calling up former lovers?” You teased him.

A low laugh rumbled within his chest. “I’ve only ever had one former lover,” he held up one finger and stared. It was so unnerving, you had to break eye contact first. “Then, I got married. Really quickly…to the first girl that I met a year after I got back from France.”

You couldn’t hide the shock written all over your face. “Wow,” you managed to say. “That’s…” You try to think of a word that didn’t sound too reproachful.

“Crazy? Impulsive? Yes. I was really young and I thought the world was ending. I just didn’t want to lose anybody again.” he trailed off.

You and your husband were together for five years before you even thought about getting married. Maybe you were unconsciously holding out hope that you’d run into Namjoon again.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled sadly at the thought, but that was quickly interrupted by the server bringing your dinner to the table.

******

You go through the rest of dinner talking about your most recent work and him sharing some of his more recent projects. When the server returns to dish out your plates, they ask about dessert. Namjoon declined but immediately looked at you.

“Oh, no thank you,” you declined politely.

Namjoon’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Who are you? I could have sworn that moelleux au chocolat was calling your name,” he teases, remembering your favorite treat that you indulged in while you were together.

“Shut up,” you laughed. “We’re not 21 anymore. You can’t…eat chocolate cake just like that.”

“Not even in bed?” The soft crinkle in his eyes deepened as he smiled cheekily.

You try to put aside those memories of chocolate and him. You cock a serious eyebrow at him, his expression unchanging. “Nope, not even in bed.”

You fall silent for a bit. Then he asks, “How many kids do you have?”

“Two girls. You?”

“I have a son,” he answers.

“Must be blissful to just have one,” you commented, polishing off your wine.

“Oh, trust me,” he says, picking up the bottle to pour you another glass but you hold your hand up, feeling like you’ve had more than enough for the night. “He’s still a handful, though.” he laughs, proceeding to empty out the rest of the bottle’s contents into his glass.

“But he’s my handful, so…” he trailed off, setting the empty wine bottle on the table.

“Are you and your wife still together?” You thought maybe the question was out of line but curiosity was getting the best of you.

His expression turns wistful. “We live under the same roof, let’s put it that way. She’s a great woman, a good mother. And I don’t deserve her.”

You smiled sadly at him, then stared at him silently. You begin to question why you even decided to come with him. Perhaps it was all a big mistake.

And yet, even though it's been so long, your memories of him were so incredibly vivid that you could just reach your hand out and you'd feel them. Feel him.

“What are we doing here, Namjoon? Why did you show up at my lecture? What did you hope to achieve?”

“Honestly?” His eyes flicked downward and he began to fidget with a loose thread on the table cloth.

“When I found out that you’d be in town, I booked a room within five minutes.” He chuckled. “I didn’t even care if the rate was ridiculous…”

Then, his gaze lifted back to your face. “I was hoping that we could pick up where we left off."

Your hand instinctively clutches at your chest. Your heart was beating so fast, you were afraid that it would just burst out of it.

"For 10 years, I imagined what our life would have been like. And if I ever saw you again, would I feel the same way about you? Would you feel the same way about me?”

You purse your lips and lean in closer. “You didn’t need to book a hotel room to find out if we still love each other…” You paused, then gave him a small smile. “Because clearly, we still do.”

His lips curved into a smile and the dimples in his cheeks grew deeper.

“For 10 years…Just the idea of you, knowing that you existed and that you were in my life…I held onto those memories and they got me through some tough times.” Your throat tightens but right before your tears fall, he reaches across the table, holding his hand out, beckoning you to put your hand in it.

After some hesitation, you acquiesce. He gives it a gentle squeeze, then brings it up to his lips to kiss it. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

******

You took a leisurely walk by the avenue and into a small pub a few blocks away. You shared a few more drinks and stories. For hours, you caught up with each other’s lives.

You excitedly talk to him about your new television project while he enthusiastically describes recently studying works by the late Yun Hyong Keun, even developing a friendship with his family.

Art was Namjoon’s pride and joy. His eyes, though the corners were now wrinkled with laugh lines several years later, still lit up the same way when he talked about his passions and the things that he loves.

When one pub closed, you moved into another. And when that closed, you moved your conversation to a park bench, right outside of your hotel by the waterfront.

It was a little after 5:30AM and daylight was breaking through the horizon. Most of the town’s commercial avenue was still asleep, save for the cafes that were gearing up for a new day for early-morning patrons.

When you sat down next to him, he lifted his arm up, inviting you to sidle up closer to him. And you did. You basked in his warmth and rested your head against his chest. You caught a whiff of him…cinnamon and coffee mixed in with faint traces of lavender-scented fabric softener. Even though you felt fatigue set in, you couldn’t close your eyes. You crane your neck up to find him sitting still with eyes closed while the sunrise kisses his face. Now, how could you possibly miss that?

******

You head back into the hotel and go up to your respective rooms only to retrieve your things so you could check out and head to the train station.

“You don’t have to take me, really–”

“I know I don’t have to but I want to,” he insisted.

You laugh at him. “You’ve gone and rented out a room that you didn’t even sleep in. Now you’re saying that you’re going to take the train with me, see me off at my stop, then transfer at a station that’s completely out of the way for you?”

He laughed in return. “It sounds so crazy when you put it that way but…yes, I want to do all that.”

You shook your head at how ridiculous that was. “Joon…”

“Please? Just let me do this,” he all but pleads.

You wanted to protest again but instead, when you open your mouth, a yawn escapes you.

“Look at you…that’s like, the fifth time in a row you’ve yawned,” he snickered.

“Spare me,” you chuckled with a slight eyeroll. “I know we barely slept when we were together. Now I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Dawn is for lovers…and bakers,” he adds with a grin while his eyes peered up at a bakery that had just turned over its ‘open’ sign on the front door.

Your cheeks flushed with warmth. “You always had a way with words.”

“Things haven’t changed much,” he replied as you made your way out of the hotel to catch a cab together.

******

Hours later, the train approaches your stop, and you begin to gather your things.

“Thank you,” you say to him.

He smiled wordlessly then dipped his head down. You didn’t stop him and instead, met his kiss halfway. Warmth bloomed within your chest when your lips brushed against each other’s. In an instant, you had traveled back in time…back into his embrace. It was like coming home.

The train comes to a halt, making you bump against each other. Pulling away, you stare at each other with half-lidded eyes. Both your pulses raced but ironically, there was a calm that washed over you.

Neither of you said anything for a few beats until a smile broke through his lips. It’s so infectious that you do the same. He leans in again and plants a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut.

When he lets go of you, he looks into your eyes again. “We should do this again.”

His invitation was so unexpected that it knocked the wind out of you. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Sure, just call me.”

“I definitely will. You know, since I have my phone with me now instead of an old receipt,” he says.

You gather your things and off-board the train hand-in-hand. You put your luggage down then faced each other on the platform.

“So…have a good life!”

Your comment tickles him. “‘Have a good life’?” he echoed. “That sounds like something people say when they won’t see each other again.”

You didn’t really mean anything by it. You thought it sounded better than saying, ‘That was fun,’ or ‘Take care.’

You chuckled at him and shrugged. “You never know what could happen between now and the next time we see each other again. I could die; you could hit your head and fall into a coma; another border lockdown could happen, or…maybe one of us decides that they want something else,” you reply casually.

He took a step to narrow the gap between you. “I’ve always loved your wild imagination,” he says, tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

You grinned at him. “So you’ve told me.”

His expression turned serious. “Well, none of those things will happen. We’ll see each other again.” he promises, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You nodded softly and gave him a small smile. “Alright.”

His smile grew wider and you tilt your chin up to kiss his lips again before his train home arrives on the other side of the platform. You watched him board and saw that he sat by the window seat, his eyes still on you.

True love in its absolute form has many purposes in life. It’s not just about bringing children into the world; or romance or soulmates or even lifelong companionship. The love you had in your past...unfinished, untested, lost love...seems so easy, so childish to those who chose to settle down. But it’s actually the purest, most concentrated stuff.

For years, you imagined what it would be like to see him again. To learn that things hadn’t changed and that spark between you was just as bright and electric as when you first made eye contact.

And while you were happy to learn that he still felt the same way, just like any spark, there’s a brightness for a few seconds…before the wind blows it out. Like a firework that shoots up into the sky, bursting into different colors, only to fall back down as smoke and ash. Like a bolt of lightning, crackling through the storm clouds, followed by a loud thunderclap and a burst of rain.

Up until the last few hours, you realized that something this good can only last for so long.

You had your beautiful moment with him. And that’s how it will always stay in your heart.

When the train rain pulls away from the station, you feel a twinge in your chest. You blew him a kiss and stood there silently until he was far enough away from you.

He waved at you through the window then turned to look straight ahead.

“Have a good life, YN,” he whispered to himself.

Crossposted on AO3 | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @deepseavibez @itdoesntmatterwhy @joonschocochip @yu-justme @e-cm

#bts fanfiction #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #namjoon fanfiction

153 notes · View notes

spongeofaces · 12 days

Note

hi there!

i'd like to request a romantic twisted wonderland matchup if that's alright. please do not match me with the first years.

my info are as follows: gender: female sexuality: bisexual (leaning towards men), aromantic personality indicators: intj 5w4 ; melancholic-choleric signs: pisces sun / taurus rising / taurus moon hogwarts house: ravenclaw alignment: neutral good alignment preferred gender to be matched with: male

personality: studious, business-minded, tech-savvy, a little bit of a perfectionist, highly values knowledge and intelligence, tends to overwork, stubbornly independent, calm and composed, intimidating at first glance (according to colleagues), reserved and extremely introverted, protective to loved ones, obedient and respectful to authorities but will not hesitate to call them out if necessary, blunt, idealistic but a complete realist/pessimist on serious situations, highly organised, loves to play video games or read and write books on spare time, passionate, drawn to mysterious, historical, gothic, and horror subjects

hobbies + likes: researching abandoned and haunted places, writing, reading, exams, stationery, business-related topics (esp finance), coffee shops, bookstores and libraries, electronic shops, technology, video games, dark royalty / dark academia aesthetic, classical literature, classical music, detective/crime/mystery/horror stories (esp. from 19th century), cats, history, listening and belting out to musicals when alone, greek mythology

dislikes: bugs, studying repetitive subjects without gaining new knowledge, failure to meet own expectations, unnecessary change

fashion choices: gothic, elegant, classic, vintage, and formal fashion styles

partner preference: someone gentle yet authoritative, smart/highly intelligent and has a lot of knowledge generally or on a certain subject

ideal date: no preference but museum dates and coffee dates are great

i think this info is enough. let me know if you need anything else! thanks! ❤️

Struggled a bit with this one, so sorry if the results aren't what you wanted :(

I match twstgarden with...

Malleus!!🐉

Doesn't matter how introverted you are, Malleus converses the same with everyone (excluding Lilia, Sebek, Silver) anyway. He also isn't the most social person, (doesn't get out much) so he doesn't know awkwardness from confidence.

A big quality time guy, and maybe physical touch? Gentle giant.

He'll support you from the frontlines, or the sidelines, just tell him what he can do. But remember to give him some support too, it aint easy being a lonely prince.

He's patient, so open up in your own time. He's happy to go at whatever pace you set for a relationship. Real respectful.

Knowledgeable in older topics.

This guy knows nothing about technology. Showing him a video game will result in many curious enquiries. It may take him a little bit to learn the ways of gaming, but he'll treasure any time you spend teaching him.

Again with technology, make him a music playlist. He'll adore it.

Honestly, this guy would go just about anywhere, as long as you invite him. He knows plenty of abandoned places to explore, and would be ecstatic to research them together with you! Oh, please let him tell you about gargoyles, he's obsessed.

Lots of dates! Be prepared to visit a lot of new places, cafes, shops, parks, museums, basically everywhere datey. Oh, but wherever you go, it'll probably be pretty empty. For good or bad, Malleus's prescence scared any other visitors off. But, that just means more space for the two of you.

Other options: Vil, Leona and Riddle

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland matchups #twst matchup

3 notes · View notes

sam-glade · 1 year

Text

15 OC Questions Tag

Got tagged by the lovely @iced-ginger-tea here. Thank you💜

And gently tagging: @awritingcaitlin @tisiphonewolfe @captain-kraken and also leaving open tag.

Let's go with Rilna. I'm slightly ill and in need of a comfort character. No, Sieran, I'm not glaring at you for being an angsty, nervous wreck...

Are you named after anyone?

She gives you a small, smug smile.

"I don't believe it was intentional, but there was a Rilna in the seventh century of the Second Realm, who was the Keeper of Keys of Gale's Rest. She started her political career as..."

You clear your throat ten minutes into the admittedly well-told, but lengthy story.

2. When was the last time you cried?

She looks away and clenches her hand nervously. The twitch catches your attention. She sees where you're looking, and hides the hand under the table.

"I honestly can't remember," she says softly. You can tell that the realisation surprised her.

3. Do you have kids?

"Divines, no." She relaxes somewhat, and looks up at you with smiling eyes. "Maybe, one day, when it all blows over... But even then, I don't think it would be easy for a single parent, so it probably won't happen."

4. Do you use sarcasm?

"Sometimes, with my friends, when the mood is right."

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Their smile, their eyes-" She breaks off rather abruptly and shakes her head. "No, that's not true. It's their attitude, if they noticed the bracelet, and how friendly or dismissive, or hostile they are to a... To someone like me." Her smile is apologetic.

6. What's your eye colour?

She looks up at you, and her eyes gleam.

"Brown."

You write it down and add 'like chestnuts'.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

"Happy ending." Her smile grows and little dimples appear on her cheeks.

8. Any special talents?

"Do you mean, other than this?" She waves her left hand, and you can just about see the rigid shape of the locking bracelet under the sleeve of her blazer. "I've got a pretty good memory for names and dates. It comes in handy for a historian," she rushed to add, as if to sweep away the bitter mood.

9. Where were you born?

"In the suburbs." You look at her with a silent request for clarification. "Of the City of Light, right here."

10. What are your hobbies?

Her smile returns, sweet, a little lopsided.

"Baking. I've got a sweet tooth, and it makes others happy."

11. Have you any pets?

"Not at the moment, but maybe, one day, I'd want a cat. One of these round ones, with chubby little cheeks."

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

She chuckles.

"Divines, I don't think I've touched a ball since school..."

13. How tall are you?

"Uh... not that tall, just under 170 cm."

14. Favourite subject in school?

"History. No, wait, all the way back in school? I think it was literature."

15. Dream job?

She looks away again, and her smile wanes.

"I've never considered it, to be honest. Knacked like me, once we get any job, we do our best to keep it. I was really lucky to get the postdoc position, and I suppose I like it a fair bit, but... Yeah, I think my dream job would be transcribing historical documents. So few people can read the ideographs nowadays, and even fewer are interested in preserving the historical sources. Hm. I suppose I should have mentioned that as a special skill, too."

#the truth teller #15 oc questions #tag game #writeblr tag game

12 notes · View notes

somerabbitholes · 2 years

Note

hi lol this is kind of weird to ask i know, but i wanted to take history for college and when i told my parents, they told me that most people who take history (and literature) are either a. people who want to take civil service and need to study more seriously for that i.e. not really taking history seriously or b. people who dont know what to do so they take the easiest option/women who just need to study until they get married, and basically that i would be surrounded by people who wont take the subject seriously, which could then affect my own seriousness. bc you have taken history i wanna ask you if thats like actually true or just an oversimplification or exaggeration?

we're 12 people in my specific combination of courses, and all of us want a PhD at some point, which is sort of an implicit assumption at the master's level: if you've made it this far, you're sticking with the subject. not all of us are looking to teach, but we do want to be part of the larger project of history. there are, of course, people who want to join the civil services but that doesn't mean they don't care about what historians do. for a lot of people i know, the civil services are just a stable job that'll give you money to support research and everything. like if you join the MEA through the whole civil service apparatus and are at a certain level, you get a grant for a PhD in the field you're interested in. so the thing about people just there for the job prep is a huge oversimplification; it's obviously a lot more nuanced.

but that stereotype also doesn't go away, even when you're part of academia: there's a sort of runnning joke in my department that most people who study ancient india do so because it's less investment and it prepares you for the exam, and there's sometimes a latent contempt for those who are just there too, but that's just an assumption and it goes away when you actually talk to someone who's studying for the exams. (because the problem isn't really that people who want to join the government aren't 'serious enough' about history, it's that academia and the bureaucracy work in ways that makes reconciliation or doing both so difficult). i'm not even going to touch the women thing because not a single person i know is killing time until they marry.

and i know you're not talking about this, but i just want to point out that history is not easy or self-evident. there's a very frustrating but very common assumption that all we do is read dalrymple or other popular historians or just go over chronologies until we know them perfectly. and as much as popular writing would have you believe that history is something "anyone can do" if you've got "a good story to tell", it is still something that needs training, there's value in being trained to read archives and write in a way that can be both critical and literary. people spend years extracting truth and building coherent narratives out of maddeningly disparate sources. it's more complicated than you think and you realize that the more you do history.

i don't think you need to worry about being surrounded by people who aren't serious. i'm not saying you'll never meet those people; i'm saying it won't be extraordinarily different for history. every field has them and that's just how it is. but you'll also find classmates and professors who care deeply about the subject, and they'll all love it and care about it in different ways, and that makes it so, so worth it.

i hope that helps & i'm sorry if i went off.

#anonymous #answered #for later #history #historyblr #c stuff

62 notes · View notes

scarfacemarston · 2 years

Text

I know this is going to sound controversial and bitchy but it’s my tumblr: but I don’t understand how some metas get so popular. I’m not amazing myself. FAR from it but I see things like Red Dead Redemption :“OMG Arthur is an artist ! a really good one, look at his journal!” (The game literally shows you immediately this.) If someone includes more and dives in , then that’s awesome, but if it’s left at that, then I don’t know how much of that is truly meta. I know I’m gatekeeping a bit, though. Red Dead Redemption again: “Dutch treated Arthur poorly even though he was a father figure” (That’s one of the points of the game.) The type that annoys me the most is something that is shown and answered in the cut scene. The literal cutscene is the subject of the “discovery”. Stating you noticed say. (I’m making this up) You saw that the Pinkertons came into camp in the early chapters and came in again at the end of the game - the same agency. That is NOT meta. That is a fact. Dutch tried to abandon Abigail in chapter 6. That is not Meta. That isn’t an observation. That is a fact. He bluntly says this. That is not meta. Sadie and Charles were injured in the epilogue so John had to do xyz alone. That is not meta. That is a fact shown in the cut scene. Marvel: or “Bucky has ptsd and has a lot of nightmares because of his time as the winter soldier. He carries a lot of guilt” (did you watch...any of the other captain America movies?) Did you know that Natasha was close to Clint’s family? Yes. It’s literally a big part of the movie. or Star Wars: “Leia is so much like her mother Padme because they’re both (insert extremely obvious reason like being strong willed, being political, etc) (Did you watch the movies? That’s the point.) Luke’s love saved Darth Vader - literally says that. Did anyone notice that Chewbacca wasn’t given a medal? Yes. That has been pointed out since 1977. Interview with the Vampire: “Lestat treats Louis and Claudia horribly, but they still care for each other! (Literally the ENTIRE reason for 80% of the book. Literally Louis cannot be anymore blunt.)

I know not everyone picks up on the same things, but sometimes it is literally the easiest and low effort thing that is shoved in the player or viewer’s face. It’s been happening a lot on Reddit, too. Like, it’s stuff like that where I truly wonder if it’s something they truly don’t know and are excited to share or are wanting easy likes. If someone is genuinely excited and didn’t notice something, that’s one thing and is different, but I think it’s more the second. Everyone wants to be valued and heard and have some attention /acknowledgement and people who say they don’t are likely the minority, so it’s understandable why some people do that, it’s just annoying to me. I have heard a theory that since Literature classes are being cut in a lot of preschool through highschool (and it’s equivalent world wide) and colleges are actively trying to lessen general education requirements like history, writing and literature -s ome people truly may not be picking up on points that seem obvious because things like symbiology and tropes aren’t being taught. If that’s the case, it’s quite sad and sadly another reason why the “Humanities” are needed.

17 notes · View notes

corde-love · 2 years

Text

My thoughts about school (based on the Polish education system)

By unpopular demand, I decided to write it all down.

Disclaimer: it is not good, and these are only my opinions based on my being a part of it for 12 years and being a tutor for another 6.

tldr: it's fucked up. Don't let your kids go to public school in Poland and here's why:

An education system is a form of oppression where the teacher is the absolute authority, and you, as a student, can do nothing else but listen to them. Teachers are gods in terms of the subject matter they are supposed to teach you, as well as in terms of your rights and wrongs. They are the law that you have to obey and must not question. In other words: you have no rights as a student if the teacher says so.

Of course, there are some institutions like student spokespeople, but they are mainly teachers, and when it comes to a fight between a student and a teacher, who do you think the spokesperson will endorse?

Now that creates an unhealthy situation for both: students and teachers. Students believe they have no rights and are predetermined to do as other people tell them - that's an easy way to develop a very dependent society that will wait for permission to do anything. No development or progress follows. That is, for sure, a good thing if you want to take away other people's rights (I'm looking at you conservative parties from around the world).

Teachers, however, learn that their words are unquestionable, that they are better than others because they spend a couple of hours a day believing they are. That may be one of the reasons why the majority of people who decide to teach at schools are people who are incompetent to do other jobs and have plenty of internalized fears and complexes.

Now these teachers must teach these students things that are often too difficult for these young people or require the knowledge that they should have already learned but didn't because of other teachers who weren't able to teach them because of… yada yada yada

And the program is too vast, and there are no visible connections between subjects. E.g. Literature should correspond with history to properly show how some historical events inspired some of the books they must read (don't make me start about 'obligatory readings'). Or chemistry and physics should take from each other when talking about electromagnetism or something. And because of all that, these children and teens spend too much time at home doing the things they were supposed to do at school but didn't, and they don't have enough time for other things like hobbies or social development, which are so crucial in a proper growing up process.

Also, the children have to do so much additional work at home themselves: plenty of homework, studying for tests, pop quizzes and 'questionings', and (i told you not to make me start) obligatory readings.

That all creates a situation where frustrated adults try to work with frustrated children and adolescents. That sounds to me like a perfect learning atmosphere, doesn't it?

Now, of course, school is not only the arena of students-teachers discord but also of the relationship students have with each other. Public school enrollment is a hoax because since every kid has to go to school it's obvious they will find a place for them. So now the society of students looks like these:

What do you think: for whom is the school prepared? Everyone in this one standard deviation gap? I think it would be nice if that were true.

But what about the kids who are not so 'mainstream'? Not only those from pathological or problematic families but also those whose parents are lawyers and doctors and have enough money and not enough time for their children? What about above-average intelligent or disabled kids or those with other limitations?

I'll tell you what happens to them. Nothing. They are being left alone. They have 'special needs' so the school can do close to nothing for them. Some parents who care pay for additional classes - which leads to this kind of aberration that a 9-year-old kid has over 40 hours of classes a week. But children of those who can't afford it or don't care enough are being called off as problematic, and the school doesn't want to deal with them.

And sure, students have different problems than 'my mom pays extra for me to learn to swim and yours doesn't' with each other, but I'd like to stress how bad one's socioeconomic status influences their children's life.

So I have gone with the 6-3-3 system (12 years of education divided into three levels - three schools) and now it's 8-4 and let me tell you how devastating for your mental health that was. Every 3 years you had to take an exam that your whole future depended on. Every 3 years you had to change your school and your friends and get used to a new environment. And the moment you started to feel stable again you had to do it all over again. The current system isn't any better but for entirely different reasons (one of them being taking the same program and not adjusting it to the new 8-4 years division).

That all being said, I have been tutoring young people for the last 6 years (16 kids, aged 5-19) and I am terrified seeing what is happening at schools. 'My children' are being called liars, even when they're not lying because the teacher wants to prove a point they're problematic. What kind of authority are they, then? Within my social circle, not one of my friends who are still at school nor my friends' kids doesn't have a problem with school. They don't want to go there, they are scared of their teachers, they skip school or classes, they have several mental issues and one of them tried to kill herself.

So don't tell me I'm overreacting when this topic arises. I have seen an intelligent, beautiful 15-year-old girl locked up in a mental hospital because she could barely go to school every day. I'm not overreacting but several millions of people are underreacting and I don't want to fathom where this is going.

#personal #education #education system #polish education system #polish stuff #poland

9 notes · View notes

marinerainbow · 1 year

Note

Hey hey!! I have some Jumbo asks for Poppy, if you want to? If not that's absolutely okay!! Also I've chosen one from each section and thats a lot so if you wanna pick and choose which ones to answer that's also perfectly good! ^^

💋 📙 📀 🍐💙 🍆 💗

Also

Oh my god, Wicked, I'm absolutely grateful for these! And the hug! Thank you so much, and I will absolutely answer all of these! And don't be afraid to send too many, honestly being able to answer asks like these give me life and I kept thinking about this at work today. If you want to send in more, I'm more than happy to answer them (though don't feel pressured to do so either) ^^

There's going to be references to my favorite ship with Poppy in this (I can't bring myself to say who I ship her with. But you know exactly who I'm talking about Wicked-), and Roger and Jessica if they were her family since they'd be the closest she'd have to family (I'm not sure if I'll make it canon that Poppy is Roger's cousin, but I'll still mention them since it's fun). So we're in for a long post boys and girls.

And of course, for you, a tackle hug!

(Also the fact that you asked all those in the order of the rainbow just makes me smile, idk why, it just does ^^)

💋: How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying affection? Why?

When it comes to family and friends, she's plenty affectionate with them. She'll hug them, hold their hand to comfort them and/or herself, etc. Her romantic partner gets all that times ten; She'll cuddle up to them, give them pet names (the classic ones, like sweetheart, honey, dear, darling, etc), the entire package. She loves her family, friends, and romantic partner, and she is not at all afraid to show it.

She absolutely loves PDA, and will not be ashamed to show others how much she loves her S/O, though she is more of a 'formal' affectionate. For example, she'll hold her partner's arm, give them a simple but sweet peck on his/her cheek, basically she may not be all over her S/O, but it's still obvious she loves them. Same goes for when they are alone together, though she's a bit more openly affectionate then. And it's not just physical, she'll get them a gift if she can afford it, tell them through words how much she loves them, help them with anything they need, etc. Basically she's down for all kinds of affection. She can't hide it when she's in love. (She'll hold herself back if her romantic partner wants her too though).

📙: What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or something they can talk hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?

What bores your OC to tears and they couldn't care less about? Why?

Plants and insects. She absolutely loves talking about them and what she knows. Even the more creepier facts, like how long it would take for a venus flytrap to digest a fly, or how much venom a black widow spider carries. She also loves talking about literature and history.

She absolutely does not want to hear any gossip or true crime. She has no interest in what celebrities or her neighbors are up to, and she doesn't want to hear about real life horrors in the world.

📀: How easy is it to shock your OC? To confuse them? To lie to them, to manipulate them? How are they with feelings of trust? Can your OC be trusted?

To shock Poppy? Not a whole lot. Especially if it's a scare type of shock. To confuse, lie, or manipulate her? That is also pretty easy unfortunately. If she loves someone, familial, platonic, or romantic, she'll trust them whole heartedly. She's not dumb or blind, she'll notice suspicious behavior, but she'll deny it and brush it off. It would take either someone forcing her to face the facts or the liar to do something huge like physically hurt her or someone she loves before she comes to terms with what's really going on. And even then, she'll spend some time wondering if she could have done anything different to change what happened, and pin the blame on herself.

Whether she's trustworthy? Oh absolutely. I would trust her with my own life if she was real. Even if she just sees it as common courtesy, she'll do whatever she can to help her loved ones out and keep them safe, even if it would be sacrificial in some way to herself.

🍐: What is your OC's mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

It really depends. She'll be positive for other people, even if she has to force it, but with herself she's very negative. Some days, her whole mentality is just negative and it just winds up splashing on others. But there are days, especially as she gets better with herself, that she is just a ray of sunshine.

Poppy worries... Alot. She'll try to do her best, but then wonder if her best is good enough, she'll want to take a nice stroll out, but then wonder what could happen while she's out, etc. So she's constantly questioning herself. Her partner would be able to help her relax more, both because he reassures her, and because she trusts him and feels safe with him.

💙: What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently achieving this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?

Honestly, I can see Poppy wanting to be a history teacher. When she learned the job title, she wanted to get a degree herself and teach others. Not to mention the fact that since she was made in the early 20'th century, that technically makes her a part of history, who better to teach the past then someone who was there to experience it? However since she was drawn for horror cartoons, she couldn't pursue that career choice. And now that her studio is shut down, she has to take whatever job she can get just so she won't be homeless, so her dream is on the back burner for now.

Another dream though, is to start a family of her own. Even though being a first time parent is daunting, Poppy still wants to have kids with her romantic partner. She wants the peaceful, tranquil life, away from the dangerous streets of downtown, with someone who loves her as true as she would love them. That hasn't been accomplished yet, though hopefully she'll achieve it someday.

🍆: Tea or coffee or hot chocolate? Sweet or spicy? Fruits or vegetables?

All three, but situational. Tea is when she needs to relax, coffee is when she needs to stay awake, and hot cocoa is reserved for holidays and special occasions (or if she just feels like spoiling herself). Side note, she'll also drink alcohol, but only rarely and in small increments, like on new years or during a wedding, something that's like a big celebration.

She'd honestly cry if she ate something spicy, and possibly hurl if it was spicy enough. So she'd prefer sweet.

She likes fruit just a little bit more than veggies. Though it's barely noticeable.

💗: What would your OC say is their best feature? Why? What do their friends/family/loved one(s)/people they know think is their best feature and why?

Poppy thinks her best feature are her ears. She does appreciate having good hearing, even if she does momentarily regret it when something loud starts up near her.

Roger (if he was Poppy's cousin) can't pick just one thing about her he thinks is her best feature. I doubt he can easily find flaws in anybody he likes, and even then he still focuses on the good parts. He can and will be anybodies hype man.

Jessica (is she was Poppy's in-law) would think her heart was her best feature. As a toon who faces plenty of judgment and harrasment for simply being drawn a certain way, she appreciates how understanding and compassionate Poppy is. However, Jessica also recognizes that that can be her biggest weakness as well for the reasons mentioned above.

I hope you like these answers! If you have any more asks I'm more than happy to answer them!

#WFRR #Who Framed Roger Rabbit #my own OC's #my own characters #Poppy #Roger Rabbit #Jessica Rabbit #ships #(im not going to state the specific ship becaise im embarrassed but im still going to tag as ships since this does reference a ship)#ask game #honestly i really am grateful that you would ask about Poppy #not only does it give me the courage to talk about my OC and develop her better it also shows me you really like her!#which is especially soecial from you since youre not really an OC person but you like her enough to ask about her! ^^

3 notes · View notes

rhaenemys · 1 year

Text

I want to learn from professors and teachers, be it humans around me or beings in other times, other places.

I’d like to choose various different subjects, like physics or quantum physics, geometry/numerology, languages, anatomy, geology, phlebotomy, dance, literature and poetry, art, history. and I want to learn from professors (mostly the sciences really). Like a college class. But I don’t want to pay the high amounts for it, or have it be part of some degree. I want to actually learn it. I thought maybe I could exchange something in return for it, be it sex which is easy currency, or assistance or chores… I don’t know. Just something. I’m sure there are some professors out there that would enjoy to have a pupil like this. Like how it is supposed to be. Someone has to take me under their wing like that, right?

And I don’t know when I’ll be proficient enough to talk to other beings and learn from them. But I’d like to. I don’t think I’m ready yet, but I want to be. And I’ll have all these teachers and find the answers I’ve been so hungry for. The thought of this is all so exhilarating to me!! And be able to mend the mental and metaphysical processes together, see how to work that out. And the physical of course. I feel like if I were to do this I’d find ways to support it (financially I mean). I don’t know. I feel like there’s a bright future out there for me full of experiences. Maybe that’s just the pisces dreamer in me. Of adventures, pain and bliss, a lot of learning. There’s many blockages I have to go through before I get to that forward momentum, since I’m so young and ingrained in mainstream society. But that’s okay, there are many things to be learned from this point anyway, a good foundation. And that’s what I need, so I’m not in too much of a rush. I’ll enjoy what I can before it is time to embark in that tunnel.

Anyway, that’s all.

4 notes · View notes

crazy-walls · 2 years

Note

für die weird questiosn: 3, 4, 6, 7, 13, 15, 21, 36, 39, 40 :)

thank you! c:

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed? - does staring at a blank document until i get distracted by tumblr or my birds count? idk it just happens a lot, i don't have a set ritual ^^

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral? - I. uhhh. uhm... I genuinely can't think of one rn, sorry ._.

6. What is your darkest fear about writing? - maybe not the darkest but I'm scared of never finishing anything again because almost all of my long-ish stories are unfinished and as I get closer to the end of my young!Cotta AU it gets harder and harder to write

7. What is your deepest joy about writing? - sharing ideas and scenes and vibes that stick with me for weeks or even months with other people and getting to enjoy them experiencing it too! that's why I care so much about comments on my fics, i just love love love talking about characters and plotlines and symbolism with other people!!

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy? - realistic police proceedings (which I am blessed to be able to ask @daughterofhecata about) and even more so how policemen talk to each other. MAJOR problem atm argh. easy is brooding, overthinking and mentally unstable characters (I wonder why...) ^^"

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends? - nope, nope and not really - I sometimes put little notes into my assigned reading in school but don't do that with my normal reading, I don't like dog-earing anything and I don't have a bathtub (when I had one I actually took a book in there with me but my glasses got foggy and I can't really read withouth them ^^); i also don't judge people for doing it cause books usually aren't that "special" (unless you'd like, dog-ear some really rare book or a manuscript but I assume people have more sense than to do that)

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not? - I don't know. I've thought about quitting several times because the interaction with others is what keeps me going the most and since comments get less and less it's really frustrating at times. I've been at the "what even is the point?!" stage in writing quite a lot, especially since I've started working full time and spend what little free time I have writing so not doing it would mean not spending most of my free time on the PC like I do at work. on the other hand, then I'd never get all these scenes and characters bothering me out of my mind

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know? - I know a lot about really specific little niches in art history (unpainted medieval wood sculptures, Cambodian architecture from 1950-72, ...), the Middle Ages in general and medieval German literature in particular and especially heroic medieval stories - and I love incorporating some of these in my writing! I've actually written quite a few stories that involve art/art history - sadly, silly medieval wannabe-heroes haven't really fit into any story yet but that could be so much fun too ^^

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up? - the characters not shutting the hell up in my head, shiny new ideas that I can latch on to (and to be cheesy on main bc this especially goes for the AU: @daughterofhecata bc of all the support ♥)

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it. - okay, technically this isn't a poem but I'm obsessed with Der Welt Lohn (Verserzählung mit Reimen, das zählt!) and especially the artistic depictions of Frau Welt

#i hope these make sense i'm a bit beside myself rn whoops #thank you v much!#personal #ask game

3 notes · View notes

hotasfahrenheit · 4 months

Text

i don't think i have 15 people to tag but i'll still answer these 15 questions and with answers that are probably way too long to make up for it 🌟

1. are you named after anyone?

not that i've ever been aware of, tho all three of my siblings -both younger and older- are named after family members or family friends. i've never heard a story about where my name comes from, so my assumption has always just been that it was chosen because mum's family was Polish Catholics (Mia is short for Maria but i'm very far from being anything other than a white girl)

2. when was the last time you cried?

it's Sunday today yeah? so probably like Thursday or Friday while having too many emotions about *something*. i am a giant crybaby and get emotional and cry about things all the time honestly so it's not that big of a deal when i do and not worth taking note of 🤣 Saturday i spent at work for 9 hours then immediately on a 7 hour road trip where i slept a bunch so no crying yesterday but before that it could have been any time really.

3. do you have kids?

only friends that i've adopted. going from the nickname Mia to lots of friends calling me Mama Mia was entirely too easy and i'll mom at them all 💖

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

the only time i've ever willingly been on a sports team was when i played youth soccer in elementary school, it was just teams of kids from mixed grades all from my school and we got free tshirts and there was an ice cream social at the end of the whole program and honestly those were my motivating factors for playing (and i was bad at it)

5. do you use sarcasm?

who me no never

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

their general attitude and vibe

7. what’s your eye color?

hazel, in the blue/grey/green variety, and they look like they change depending on what colours i'm wearing

8. scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings for sure, i will like... read plot synopsis of scary movies sometimes but i don't like watching them, my brain is too visual and repetitive and scenes get stuck in my head and it's not fun

9. any talents?

lots of general art things, like i can draw some and sew things and do leatherwork etc etc.

10. where were you born?

in the northeast United States but i moved away long ago

11. what are your hobbies

playing video games, listening to kpop, watching Asian media, LARPing, making things primarily for LARP stuff

12. do you have any pets?

an elderly gentleman bastard cat, Xanatos, and a trash gremlin cattle dog known commonly as Poops

13. how tall are you?

taller than my sisters and my mother but shorter than my father

14. favorite subject in school?

well i have a bachelor's degree in literature with a minor in history so those

15. dream job

theoretically i was doing that for a while where i was working for myself making things (sewing, doing applique, dyeing fabric, doing some leatherwork, etc) on commission, but i struggle with self and time management, plus my income was incredibly inconsistent and variable so my bills just weren't getting paid. so really i guess a dream version of that would be one where i was getting paid better and had the ability to stay on task 🤣🤣

thanks for tagging me, @callipigio 💖 i think most people i would tag already have been so if you see this and wanna do it and you haven't been, pretend i tagged you and do it anyway 🌟

#survey things #mia answers things

1 note · View note

edelweissacermacrophyllum · 1 year

Text

Tempting God, the beginning of wisdom, and God perhaps behaving badly

Genesis 7:1-9:17, Proverbs 1:1-7, Matthew 4:1-22

I read The Brothers Karamazov when I was much younger and I recall Ivan's poem being one of my favourite parts. In it, it suggests that in the temptations of Jesus, where Jesus is standing atop the temple, being tempted to jump down, if he had done so it would have resulted in his death. A jump would not be a sign of faith but a sign of doubt. This isn't exactly the scientific mindset, but it is the mindset we expect from relationships. If we are constantly testing eachother's trust, it's a pretty unhealthy relationship, but if we are content to not do that, it becomes healthy.

I like how, in the temptations of Jesus in the bible, it doesn't dramatize Jesus feelings at all. He was human, to be sure, and was subject to human emotions, but I like to imagine that none of these temptations had any power or lure compared to the trust he had in God and in himself and his plan. But we do know that Jesus questioned the plan later in life, so maybe he was agonizing over these temptations of easy power, shortcuts to glory without self sacrifice.

My bible in one year plan has, as one can see, a bit from the old testament, a bit from the new, and some wisdom literature. I don't know why we're starting proverbs today, but we are. Proverbs has never been a book I enjoyed because I have seen it misused and cherry picked from far too much. Not for any particular evil, but just the preacher wanted to use the bible to back up his personal opinion.

That being said, the beginning of Proverbs does say that the express purpose of wisdom is to do what is right and fair. It is not for gaining power or manipulating people. Wisdom is the servant of justice.

And finally, we come to the first great genocide of the bible. The flood narrative. I am guilty of motivated reasoning when it comes to the flood. I don't think God would have murdered everyone, therefore this story must be allegory or parable or origin fable for rainbows. To my knowledge, the genetic record doesn't show a bottleneck 7,000 years ago. The last ice age ended 11,000 years ago, but that is a pretty big leap to make. There is no good evidence for a global flood.

Some people may ask me, "Why are you trusting human science over the holy word of God?" I think it is far more likely that humans are misinterpreting the word of God, something that happens all the time, than that scientists, without any particular religious or political agenda, are independently misinterpreting the rules of the world in exactly the same way.

This isn't the issue, though, because if the flood did happen the way the bible says, we are faced with a God who is behaving badly. I have never heard a satisfactory explanation for the violent God of the old testament.

People have said, "He's God. He has the right to do what he likes with his creation." I don't think parents are allowed to do whatever they like to their children, even though they made them. By any human standard, killing and hurting large groups of people indiscriminately is wrong, and I don't have an answer for why God did it. If God did it. As I said, my reasoning is motivated, but I think that this story bears the marks of an origin story or myth much more than actual history for history's sake.

There was a cool part after the flood I hadn't noticed before, where God says that humans are allowed to eat meat now. It's strange because able definitely was a herder, and Adam and Eve wore animal skins, but here God says that now this is no longer sinful.

I thought I would have more to say about the flood, but I just keep thinking that it sucks and I wish that it wasn't used as a heart-warming Sunday school story.

#flood #bible in a year #god #god behaving badly #Jesus

0 notes

zafirosreverie · 3 years

Text

Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader)

Here it is! first part of the TxS au! Let’s get this party started!

----

"And who exactly was the villain then, Miss Y/L/N?" You gnashed your teeth when your teacher looked at you behind the frame of her glasses, with her piercing, stupidly beautiful blue eyes and a raised eyebrow.

You flinched a bit from her gaze, but you refused to back down, you never had and you weren't going to start now, no matter how hot your cheeks got or how close this damn woman stood to you.

Agatha Harkness, Westview’s University history professor, terror of the first years and your crush since the first class you had with her. Her blue eyes had captivated you from the first moment, as had her slightly wavy hair and mocking smile. Her sarcastic and dry sense of humor was also something you loved, plus she was incredibly smart and not afraid to show it. Beautiful, smart and taught your favorite subject. Yup, you were completely under her spell.

But you hated it when she argued with you in front of the whole class, especially for things like this. It always made you feel so small and helpless, even if you didn’t show it on the outside.

She had asked your class for an essay on Greek myths, and you had chosen Medusa’s. Miss Harkness had said that you should express your views, with clear and concise arguments, which took you most of the week to investigate. But it seemed that you had not been clear enough.

Either that, or your teacher really hated you and enjoyed challenging you in front of your classmates, expecting you to break up and argue with her, so she could send you to detention. Well, you wouldn't let her win that easy.

You forced a smile and looked up. She was right in front of your chair, looking down at you as she waited for your answer.

"Athena and Poseidon" you said confidently "They are the villains"

"Interesting posture" she smiled, but it was a smile that reminded you of the cheshire cat "Although that doesn't take away the blame for the lives she took, does it?"

"It wasn't her fault either," you said, frowning.

"Oh it wasn’t?" she asked. You suppressed a gasp when she rested her hands on your table and leaned forward. You could feel her minty breath on your face "And whose fault was it, Miss Y/L/N?" she asked.

"Men’s" you gulped "Those who went to look for her"

"Explain" she ordered. Her eyes never once left your face.

"They went looking for her. They tried to kill her, what was she supposed to do? Let herself be killed? Besides, it wasn't her fault that Athena turned her into that, she didn't ask to turn people to stone" you said, crossing your arms and leaning toward back in your seat.

Anyone would think that your gesture was one of challenge, considering that your face was neutral and your eyebrow was raised slightly. But inside you were screaming and having a panic attack.

Agatha smirked in her head at your attitude. She wouldn't tell anyone even if she was under torture, but she loved having these little discussions with you. You were the only student brave enough to argue with her, and you were brilliant in the way you did.

On the other hand, you were also incredibly cute and she would lie if she said that she didn't like to make you blush, your eyes lit up a bit and the red on your cheeks really contrasted beautifully with your skin. She knew it was wrong, that as a teacher she shouldn't find any of her students attractive. But she couldn't help it, there was something about you that just fascinated her.

Most of her fellow teachers had already noticed the strange dynamic she had with you, but they took it as a simple student/teacher rivalry, stemming from the fact that you seemed like a history prodigy, which presented a vast battlefield for Agatha, it was no secret that the woman was competitive, after all.

The only one who seemed a little suspicious of what was really going on was Wanda, the literature teacher. She had been one of the best students in the university and had returned as a teacher 5 years ago and because their subjects shared a field of investigation, she and Agatha ended up spending more and more time together, until they became good friends.

It was fun having someone to judge and gossip about both the staff and the student body. But that also meant having to endure the teasing of the younger woman every time you walked by Agatha.

Of course, she had scolded Wanda for even suggesting that she was attracted to you, a student, and the redhead had apologized, saying that she was only joking, but she wasn't sure how long it would be before her friend became suspicious again. Not that the history teacher was that subtle with the way she looked at you.

Still, Agatha Harkness had certain principles, and she knew that she couldn't flirt with you as long as you were her student, so she was content to make you blush and nervous when she was around you.

“She broke Athena’s rules” she said, almost growling.

“Poseidon raped her. That wasn't her fault” you growled back. You cursed yourself for being so passionate about this. Your classmates probably thought you were an idiot for fighting a teacher.

"You seem quite determined to defend the monster," she accused, frowning. She pushed herself off your bench and turned to the rest of the class, letting you breathe for a second. "Not many people would pay attention to Medusa, a hideous and dangerous creature. But she seems to have won Miss Y/L/N’s heart" she said, making your classmates laugh and you blushed again.

"It must be the eyes" you mumbled without thinking.

Your teacher looked at you for a moment before smirking. Fortunately, it seemed like she didn't have time to keep arguing with you. Blessed heavens for that. You heard the ring bell and sighed in relief, starting to pack your things.

“Remember that the project is due for next monday” Ms Harkness said and you hear some groans from your classmates. You chuckled as you left the classroom.

“It’s not fair” you heard your friend Nick saying beside you “She didn’t give us enough time!”

“What do you mean?” you asked “I finished it three days ago”

“But you don’t count!” he frowned “you’re good at history! I can’t even remember my sister’s birthday!”

“Nick, you don’t have a sister” you rolled your eyes fondly

“And? I wouldn’t remember her birthday anyway”

You laughed and playfully punched his shoulder. You and Nick have been friends since your first day here and you were thankful for that. He was the only one who knew about your crush on Ms Harkness, which was a blessing but also a nightmare. He loved to embarrass you.

“So, what was that Y/N?” He asked suddenly

“What?” you frowned

“The whole Medusa’s thing”

“Well, she wasn’t a monster and-”

“No no, don’t give me a history lesson, I already had enough of that. I was talking about you and ‘Ms magical eyes’ almost kissing” he smirked as you coughed and almost tripped.

“What?!” you hissed “The hell you’re talking about?!”

“Oh c’mon Y/N!!” Nick laughed “She was practically lying over you!”

“That’s not true” you crossed your arms

“It is” he crossed his arms too “Y/N,I love you, but you can be so blind sometimes”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, a little offended

“Y/N, we all could feel the sexual tension between you two” he laughed and left you frozen in the hall.

_____________

“No” Agatha frowned and crossed her arms

“Please” Wanda begged

“No, I’m not going to babysit a bunch of spoiled kids” the older woman said

“Okay, first of all, they’re college students, not from the kindergarden” the redhead frowned “and this could be an amazing opportunity!”

“For what? I already know about the Salem trials, love, I’m more than capable of teach my students about it without having to taking them there”

“But it would be more fun for them” Wanda argued

“I teach history, buttercup, it’s not supposed to be fun for them” the brunette smirked while the other woman rolled her eyes.

“We both know you don’t actually think that. You love your class and want them to love it too”

When the other woman shrugged and started reading again, totally ignoring her, Wanda knew it was time for plan B. She kneeled in front of Agatha and gave her puppy eyes.

“Pleaaaase” she cried “I need another teacher if I want permission to do the trip”

“Then ask Monica” Agatha said, not looking up from her book

“She has a game next week with the basketball team” Wanda said “Besides, as the history teacher, your class is the most similar to mine, it just makes sense if we both go”

“I’m not going Maximoff, period”

Wanda sighed and stood. “Fine.Thanks for nothing, Harkness” she pouted and left the teacher’s room.

Agatha rolled her eyes, she knew the other woman would get over it in a few hours.

____________

“I just say that witches are cool” you said as you and Nick walked through the hall

“They are Y/N, but visiting an old town isn’t exactly my idea for a good summer trip” he said and you rolled your eyes “Why don’t you go to Disneyland instead?” he joked

“Because I hate gigantic amusement parks” you said “And I really want to visit Salem, it was my dream since i was 9 and i read about witches from the first time. But you know I don't have enough money to do both trips. So, Salem it is for me”

Nick sighed “Alright, you do you, history girl” he joked “But try not to get cursed while you’re there, i don’t want my best friend to be a frog”

You laughed and he put an arm around your shoulders. None of you noticed the brunette teacher walking out of the teacher’s room and who totally heard your conversation.

_____________

Wanda jumped when her office door opened with a slam. She looked at a frowning Agatha, who had her arms crossed and let out a sigh.

“Alright, you win” the brunette said “We’re going to Salem”

The redhead smiled and quickly stood up to run to her friend and hug her tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said.

“But!” Agatha said, gently pushing the younger woman to lock eyes with her “I pick the class we’re taking with us”

“Deal!”

#I really don't know what I'm doing ok #sorry if this sucks ;-;#i think I'm losing my writing abilities #anyway #x reader #reader insert #imagine #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x y/n #agnes x reader #agatha harkness x you #request #must be the eyes #mbte

729 notes · View notes

stellar-imagines · 3 years

Text

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝stupid rumour.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]

「 Bakugou who has a crush on you ― the transfer student who has trouble speaking and writing Japanese but can understand the language He helps you on your language skills and develops a crush on you. Then you heard rumours of Bakugou liking Uraraka and you started become distant.」

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

"I thought I told how to do this one so many times and how did you manage to fuck it up?" Bakugou groaned, looking through your midterm paper.

"I'm really trying my best but kanji is just no good for me alright?" you grumbled, snatching the paper from his hands. It was quite embarrassing to be struggling with Japanese literature and other subjects.

Sure you were born and raised in Japan but due to some business issues, your family had to move to [Preferred Country]. And to be honest, you spent most of your life in [Preferred Country] instead of Japan so you weren't really familiar with kanji at all. It wasn't only kanji, its just the Japanese language in general. You didn't have much problems talking but when it comes to reading and writing, it was a problem so when it comes to studying, you were in big trouble. You have been whining about failing your tests and Bakugou — who happened to be your personal tutor. He got tired of your whining and decided to help you in hopes of making you shut up.

You can't really tell why Bakugou decided to help you in the first place. The two of you never got along that well to begin with. The ash blonde was very competitive by nature and when you showed promise during training, he seemed to have made you his target somehow. Bakugou never actually cared about the people in the class but you were different somehow. He was always easy to rile up and you enjoy messing around with him sometimes. It was almost safe to say that you spend most of your time with him.

Since the day you transferred into UA, you struggled with your studies. Kanji now appeared to be an alien language to you and during tests, you struggled to understand the question. Bakugou picks up the scattered paper on your desk one by one, skimming through your mistakes and assessing your performance. You didn’t do that bad and only failed Japanese History and Literature. Your scores were really low and it barely hit the passing mark.

Sometimes you like to think that you and Bakugou had something special but you're just a transfer student. Bakugou and Uraraka probably have a relationship that you could never understand. He respects Uraraka's strength after that one incident during the Sports Festival tournament. You stared at the two who happened to be queueing for lunch, having a conversation that you can't hear from where you were sitting. After a while, you took your eyes off them and sipped your drink.

"Do you think he likes her, [First Name]?"

"I'm sorry what?" you blinked, turning your attention towards Hagakure who sat across you.

"I'm talking about Ochaco-chan and Bakugou-kun!" the invisible girl gushed, her sleeves waving about to show her excitement. You blinked a couple of times, unable to process. Judging from her tone, you assumed that she thought you understood what was going on between the two. However, that wasn't the case, you yourself are clueless.

"But [First Name]-chan and Bakugou-kun are close in their own way too! Something going on between the two of you?" Ashido who was sitting next to you decided to direct the topic towards you instead.

"Nothing is going on between us. In fact, I think at some point he's gonna stop teaching me because of how I always disturb him." you muttered with a chuckle.

"Typical Bakugou. You can still join our studying sessions if you want. My offer still stands." Yaoyorozu smiled gently. You shook your head in response and gave the same answer as you did when the black haired girl proposed the idea to you.

Originally, it was Aizawa who forced Bakugou to tutor you in the first place. You had failed your tests miserably at first and your homeroom teacher seemed to notice that you struggled with communication sometimes. And Aizawa had this crazy idea to assign Bakugou to tutor you. He had hoped that the ash blonde will grow to become more social and cooperative. Honestly, you thought that it was such a bad idea at first. Bakugou was very rough with his words, impatient and is short tempered. You've tried to be nice and dismiss his behavior but at some point you just found him very amusing. You weren't sure if the two of you actually got along well or not.

However, you like to think that you both are actually on good terms. Even though he gets frustrated whenever you struggle to solve a question, he would leave you alone and give you pointers. He also likes to reward you with small treats like your favorite snacks and drinks. Bakugou also pays attention to your behavior a lot. Since the two of you are always studying everyday after school, there will be times where you will be so worn out from training. If that's the case, Bakugou will go easier on you.

"I've heard from someone that Bakugou has feelings for her since first year." Hagakure whispered as she saw Uraraka approach the table. The conversation was cut short when your brown haired friend arrived at the table with her pork katsu don. She looked between everyone, wondering why you all grew silent all of a sudden.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asked, taking a seat next to you. Acting completely natural like a smartass you were, you decided to just continue eating your lunch as if you were never a part of the conversation to begin with.

"We were talking about how there's this rumour of Bakugou having a crush on you since first year." Ashido chirped. Uraraka let out a noise akin to surprise before waving her hands defensively.

"Wh-Wha!? That's not possible!" she said quickly before glancing over at the ash blonde and then towards you.

"Why not?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W-Well, that's because....." the girl seemed a bit nervous and you see her glancing at Bakugou a couple of times.

You rested your elbow on the table, letting out a knowing hum. It didn't take long for you to get the hint that Uraraka might actually reciprocate his feelings. A small frown was etched on your face as you looked away from the girl seated next to you. Bakugou would never just suddenly stop to stare at someone, especially knowing that he can be caught staring. It was just as you had suspected earlier. 'To think that I thought there's something special between me and Bakugou.' you thought to yourself, keeping yourself out of the conversation while the girls teased Uraraka for getting so defensive.

The next day, Bakugou was packing his things and thinking ahead. He could already hear you grumbling something to yourself as you cleared your own desk, preparing to head back. There was a homework assigned to everyone and you will — for sure — be begging him to help you with it, even though its due in 2 weeks and you have plenty of time. Just as he was about to call out your name, Kaminari and Kirishima approached his desk.

“Hey Bakugou! Some of us are planning to go watch a movie after school, want to join?" Kirishima asked. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at this, looking slightly annoyed.

"Why would I wanna go with you extras?" the ash blonde grumbled.

"Because it will be fun! Everyone is coming right?" Kaminari turned towards the group of girls that has gathered around your desk.

"Yeah, most of us are!" Ashido chirped happily.

"Come on Bakugou-kun! I think its a great opportunity for you and [First Name]-chan to take a break once in a while. And besides, she's been looking forward to this movie." Uraraka told the ash blonde.

Bakugou glanced over at you, seeing that you were somewhat looking forward to relax today. It was Friday, and probably the best day to take a break from all that studying. The ash blonde had been pushing you a bit too hard and maybe this is his chance. Bakugou reluctantly agreed but not before telling them to not chose some stupid movie. He shook his head, telling himself that he's not doing this just because he thinks that you deserve a break and that he likes you or anything. Just as he finished packing, he looked over towards you, seeing Hagakure approach your table with a skip.

"[First Name], let's go watch a movie! Even Bakugou is joining! Ochaco-chan just invited him." she exclaimed, motioning to the ash blonde who glared back at her. Your excitement died down a bit, glancing between your invisible friend and Bakugou.

"Um, I think I will pass! I think I'm gonna start with that homework we're given, it's gonna take me a while to finish that after all." you said, quickly gathering your items.

Seeing you leave the class quickly made him confused. Uraraka muttered about how weird it was for you to skip out on going out, especially knowing that you were all going to go watch a movie that you have been looking forward to for so long. Bakugou decided that it was not worth his time to think too much into it and leave you be. He's not your babysitter and it doesn't matter to him what you do anyways. All while he was watching movie, he was thinking about how you should've been here watching the movie.

Just when he thought your behavior on that day was only you not being your normal self ― you did something that he had never expected before. It happened on the day after the movies. He had already expected you to be knocking onto his door and begging him to explain to you about all the homeworks that were given and about that Science quiz on Monday. Sure you came to his room with a handful of your notes and textbooks ― like usual. Your hair was slightly messy from hurrying to meet up with him at the same time ― like usual. It was nothing out of the ordinary, something you both were accustomed to. You always came late, looking like you just rolled off the bed and went straight here.

It was the same old routine until he heard those words.

"Sorry Bakugou! I'm going to be studying with Momo-chan today, she's offered to partner up for the Japanese History project." you announced.

"Hah?" was all Bakugou could only respond with. He was confused. Normally, you would be begging him to become your partner because you're so used to him. What has changed in you?

"Also.....she offered to help me with my studies so you don't have to waste your time on me anymore. Thanks, Bakugou. I won't be bothering you starting from today onwards." you bowed and quickly left him behind.

'Whatever, I don't care.' was what Bakugou said to himself.

There was so much that he wanted to tell you. But he made no effort to call out to you as you hurriedly made a run for it to the elevator. He shouldn't be bothered by this so much. After all, he was only teaching you because Aizawa told him to. The ash blonde told himself that over and over but he couldn't help but longingly stare at your back as you ran away from him as if he was the plague. 'There's no turning back on this. I made up my mind to not be a burden anymore!’ you told yourself. From that point on, you made it a goal to not interact with Bakugou at all.

He was already confused to why you decided to have him to stop tutoring you in the first place. Bakugou didn't seem to bothered by it that much but it did make a lot of people ask him about what happened between the two of you. The two of you were normally seen together most of time and to see you both on your own is just weird. You were now spending time with the girls most of the time and instead of Bakugou, you had moved on to asking other people to assist you with homework.

He wasn't going to lie but the thought of you running to others and asking for help didn't sit well with him.

Today after school, you were seen in the common area doing your homework together with Yaoyorozu. Bakugou had went down from his room to get himself a drink. Now that he doesn't have to teach you anymore, he was much more free. He could finish his homework much faster than usual. Bakugou watched as you grinned happily after being praised for getting some work done. On his way to the kitchen, he passed by Kirishima who looked like he was taking a break from his own studying.

"Hey, did you two have an argument or something?" Kirishima asked Bakugou who had opened the fridge to get his drink.

"Hah? What you on about?"

"I'm talking about [First Name]. All of a sudden you stopped partnering with her and tutoring her." the red haired mentioned as he looked over at you.

"Why should I care what she does anyway? She's not my girlfriend!" he said, glancing at you in hopes that you did not hear him at all. Lucky for him, you were too immersed in the conversation that you were having with your partner to even care about what was going on in the kitchen.

"But don't you both like each other or something?"

"Who said that!?"

"It's pretty obvious, bro."

Bakugou really doesn't want to admit it but he really likes you ― a bit too much that its starting to get obvious. He was now starting to get worried that you might catch on to his feelings. He looked at you for a moment, watching as you worked on a few tough questions, eyes narrowed at the book in front of you. It was a habit that he learned after being with you for so long and he never said it out loud but you look very cute like that. After a while, Midoriya and Uraraka joined you and Yaoyorozu. Bakugou's eyes narrowed at Midoriya who was helping you with some of the questions.

That should've been him! ― was what he told himself.

Little did he know, you heard the commotion in the kitchen. Though whatever Kirishima and Bakugou was talking about was unknown to you, you could feel them looking at you. Shaking your head in response, you reminded yourself that you vowed to not get in Bakugou's way anymore. When Midoriya and Uraraka joined your study session, you decided to just focus on your homework now. You can’t lie about the fact that you missed Bakugou’s company. Even though he was always impatient and complaining about how slow you are, he never once left you on your own. Not to mention, he was surprisingly a great teacher.

The Bakusquad ― Bakugou never really liked and approval of that name ― were hanging out in the common area. Bakugou was here against his will, dragged by Kirishima and Kaminari who wanted to play some games together. At the dining table, a few students from Class 1-A were gathered around sharing some treats while the Bakusquad played some games by the couch. Bakugou was seated on one end of the two seater sofa, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and rethinking his life choices.

"There was this rumour that you like Uraraka or something." Kirishima mused while he looked through his phone.

"What?" Kaminari suddenly perked up, drawing his attention away from the video game.

"Hah?" Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

”I’m talking about Bakubro here!” the red head male spoke a bit louder to gain the other boys’ attention.

”Oh now that you mention it, I remember! There was this rumour going on about Bakugou liking Uraraka or something.” Sero piped up, not drawing his eyes away from the game he was playing against Kaminari.

“I thought Bakugou was dating [Last Name] already.” Kaminari pointed out.

”I know right?! I know they both like each other but are afraid to admit it.” Kirishima added in with a triumphant smile.

“No one fucking said that.” Bakugou glared at the boys who began to give him the looks.

”Come on, you were so overprotective of her at that one time when we studied in the library together!” Kirishima started, now his posture upright and eyes filled with determination.

”Oh right! When there were these random people hitting on her, you sure told them off!” Kaminari added to Kirishima’s anecdote.

”But there seems to be some tension between the two of you right now.” the blonde hummed, pausing the game to turn his attention to the conversation.

It took him that conversation to actually realize how much your ignorance has affected him. Not only did you decide not to ask for his help anymore, but you made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. You avoided sitting with him during lunch, not partnering up with him during hero training and clearly turning down invites from your friends whenever you hear that Bakugou will be joining as well. He had confronted you in front of everyone, demanding you to meet up with him.

And of course, it was hard to run away when he asked you right in front of everyone. The only solution Bakugou came up to get you back and clear this up was to confess his undying love to you.

You were really nervous to talk to him and for some reason, you had a feeling that you were going to have your heart broken. Bakugou, by all means, isn't oblivious and notices a lot of things around you. So it was no surprise that he realized that something is up with you and that you are ignoring him. He probably has figured out the reason behind you avoiding him already. And you couldn't help but think your reason was really dumb.

“Look, I have no idea what you’re telling but let me just say this.” you started it first, as you don’t wanna regret not saying anything any sooner.

”But I want to tell you that I don’t want to get in your way anymore. And I approve if you want to date Ochaco-chan." you were fiddling with your fingers. So you were aware of this rumour but never made the move to ask Bakugou himself if this was true and decided to just blindly believe in some stupid rumour that some random extra had spread. Bakugou almost wanted to strangle whoever did this because it gave you stupid ideas.

"You are a fucking idiot for believing in some extra's words instead of asking me. Why the hell did you avoid me instead of confront me about the rumours, hah?" the ash blonde was trying his best to remain calm and patient.

"Because.....I was afraid that those rumours are true." you admitted.

"And I'm here to tell you that its not fucking true. Round Face is madly in love with fucking Deku and she's not even trying to hide it. Everyone fucking knows that." he told you.

"So you don't like her?" you asked.

"Stop doubting my words." he flicked your forehead. You shut your eyes and rubbed at the sore spot, muttering a few words about how unnecessary that forehead flick was. Seeing how you looked very unconvinced with his words, his hands squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to make eye contact with him.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I am going to say this once and I am not going to repeat this. Because I have no fucking idea why you are so blind to all of this. You can be dumb at lot of things and frankly, I'm glad that you are." he sighed and you let out a gasp, offended by his words.

"Hey, I'm not dumb―" he cuts you off by squeezing your cheeks to the point where your words were all muffled.

"You're so helpless in your studies without me, its like you can't live without me. But it makes me feel special because you never ask someone else for help and always look for me. Even though you're shit at your studies, you have a really freaking strong quirk. You can be so fucking annoying and drive me insane sometimes but goddamn, how can you be so fucking adorable at the same time?" Bakugou started to get a bit frustrated now and he almost couldn't believe the words he was saying right now.

You reached to grab his hands and pried them off your face to allow yourself to speak.

"I am not going to listen to you do this any further―"

Once again, Bakugou cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were startled but after a brief seconds, you started to kiss him back. It's what you imagined it to be like, sweet yet fiery at the same time. You melt into the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek while he cards his hand through your hair. You were the one to pull away first, taking a deep breath and you held your gaze. Bakugou looks oddly calm but you could see the red tint on your cheeks that was starting to reach the tips of his ears.

"You're red."

"Oh shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood."

Total: 3593 words Published: 07.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Not angsty at all actually. At least in my opinion. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! We decided to let you readers decide where you're from Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are closed! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

163 notes · View notes

juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments.

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events.

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt.

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it.

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate.

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend.

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts.

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me.

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong.

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point.

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun.

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.”

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us.

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room.

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug.

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself.

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?”

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.”

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery.

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me.

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction.

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime.

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today

Grant: don’t need to.

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me.

“Who keeps texting you?”

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business.

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!”

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it.

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it.

“No one.”

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going.

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me.

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously.

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet.

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing.

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?”

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?”

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.”

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’”

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade.

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.”

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid.

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him.

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub.

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance.

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly.

“No, sir.”

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me.

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him.

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field.

“You are not going in without a gun,” Reid ordered.

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again.

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in.

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me.

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling.

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more.

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?”

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return.

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent.

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out.

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.”

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red.

This war was far from over.

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good.

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them.

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing.

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly.

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.”

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied.

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.”

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked.

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all.

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.”

What you feel.

I clung onto those words.

What was I really feeling?

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me?

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me.

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast.

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me.

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely.

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added.

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier.

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked.

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer.

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence.

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too.

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation.

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way.

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual.

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?”

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew.

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken.

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat.

“A dating app, actually.”

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this.

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?”

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.”

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.”

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now.

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung.

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed.

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice.

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though.

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.”

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?”

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling.

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead.

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face.

He felt sorry for me.

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book.

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.”

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.”

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.”

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words.

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t.

But I should’ve.

_ _ _

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being.

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end.

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat.

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would.

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative.

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?”

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it.

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction.

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.”

_ _ _

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however.

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it.

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this.

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were.

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now?

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me.

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them.

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones.

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head.

You deserve more than that. Much more.

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said.

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened.

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see.

“I asked you first.”

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.”

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before.

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know.

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me.

“What? What is it?” I urged.

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?”

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth.

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.”

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?”

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was.

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.”

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second.

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed.

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that.

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize.

That never came.

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust.

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments.

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness.

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.”

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).”

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either.

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up.

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too.

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I.

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well.

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field.

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room.

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?”

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet.

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer.

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it.

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.”

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?”

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart.

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat.

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.”

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here.

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?”

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes.

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least.

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity.

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though.

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something.

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.”

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar.

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me.

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me.

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again.

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again.

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.”

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image.

“Always, trouble.”

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know.

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help.

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.”

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation.

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her.

_ _ _

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left.

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied.

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety.

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D.

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful.

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright.

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened.

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?”

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?”

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.”

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before.

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?”

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before.

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit.

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority.

She was my priority.

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear.

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver.

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms.

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand.

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms.

She was so cold.

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute.

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again.

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all.

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.”

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car.

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way.

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly.

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible.

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there.

I need to be somewhere I feel safe.

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself.

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize.

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever.

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?”

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly.

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?”

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.”

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.”

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too.

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that.

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind.

“You’re smart. Figure it out.”

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence.

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?”

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?”

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point?

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt.

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?”

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth.

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never.

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him.

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything.

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us.

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet.

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting.

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid

tag not working: @gloriousmuffinempathstudent

#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid kiss #fighting fire with fire #juniorgman187 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

375 notes · View notes