pancake-lovy

[pancake-lovy]

That is so adorable! (as to not overuse the word "sweet" in my reblogs)

Of course, I'm sad about what happened to Spencer, but I really enjoyed the way his and reader's relationship progressed through this story. The confession was also so lovely, and the way both of them were nervous about actually admitting their feelings to each other

I had so much fun, reading this imagine <3

𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 ⊹ . ݁. ݁જ⁀➴ ♡. ݁₊ ⊹

Spencer Reid finds himself with an irregular heart rate… and not because of his injury

cw: spencer reid x fem!nurse!reader, reader has hair long enough to tuck behind ears i guess, it’s really just fluffy i think!! idk i’ve never posted my writing on here nor have i ever written x reader so please give me constructive feedback and let me know if you liked it!!!

Spencer Reid had spent his fair share of time in the hospital.

Working in the BAU alone had yielded him to countless injuries. He had been shot, caught on fire, beaten, tortured, even exposed to anthrax. All of which usually landed him in the hospital, or at least receiving a very thorough once-over from the local EMS.

This recent go around was the result of a near-fatal shot to the neck during a shootout with an unsub. But this time felt different.

Because when he blinked awake, you were there.

His whole body still felt asleep, his tongue dry. He felt a faint throbbing register in his neck, but he couldn’t focus on it. The fluorescent lights framed you like a halo as you bent down, fiddling with something on the side of the bed.

He didn’t have the energy for anything except to follow you with his eyes. He watched as you continued to work, a focused glint in your eye, your scrubs rustling slightly the only sound besides his heart monitor beeping.

When you stood again, your eyes drifted up, and he quickly realized he was staring. His first instinct was to apologize, oddly enough, but you just broke into a grin, and he swore that beeping noise was getting faster.

“Hey, Dr. Reid! You’re awake!” You smiled, leaning over to check the vitals on the screen over his shoulder. “You’re in the ICU. Do you remember what happened?”

His voice came out in a sort of croak he was immediately embarrassed by. “I was shot.”

You nodded, your smile dropping to a slightly more solemn expression. “You were. But you pulled through. I heard you made it through that surgery like a champ. Do you mind if I take a look at that incision?”

Spencer nodded weakly. When you leaned forward, your eyes focused on his neck, he allowed himself to really look at you, just for a second.

You were pretty. He honestly tried not to classify women like that— pretty and not pretty— but his brain was running low on energy with all the healing his body was doing. And he couldn’t help but notice you. It wasn’t just your appearance— it was the care in the way you moved the protective cuff off his stitches, the concentration behind your eyes, the genuine warmth in the smile you had given him when you realized he was awake.

As your gloved fingers grazed his neck, he sucked in a breath, which in turn allowed whatever sweet perfume you were wearing to make him dizzy. You withdrew your fingers, replacing the cuff with a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” you apologized, “It’s normal for it to be tender. Just trying to check for any bleeding or damage to the stitches, but you look great!”

You started removing your gloves, still speaking in that soft, cheery tone. “You sound hoarse. I’m gonna grab you some water. Do you need anything else?”

You turned as you finished speaking again, your eyes meeting his. He urged himself to speak.

“Do you guys have jello?” He rasped. “I love jello.”

You broke into another radiant smile, and he felt a little like he was melting. “Of course. I’ll be right back with that, okay?”

With that, you whisked out of his room, taking the light with you. He settled a little, beginning to let his mind wander now that you weren’t taking up so much of his focus. Had his team managed to apprehend the unsub? How long had he been knocked out? He knew that the typical anaesthetic wore off following surgery after a couple hours, but the body also tended to be incredibly fatigued following a severe injury, and he could have simply been resting for hours and hours and—

A knock at the door sounded, and it creaked open. You stepped inside, holding a cup of jello, a little plastic-wrapped spoon, and a styrofoam cup of water.

“Here you go!” You chirped, setting the jello on the side table and helping bring the water to his lips. He swallowed, the moisture in his mouth finally returning. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Thank you.” he murmured softly.

“Of course.” You responded, lifting up the head of his bed as you handed him the jello. “You get the royal treatment. It’s not every day we get an FBI agent in here, you know. Let alone a doctor.”

He felt his lips curl into an involuntary smile as he shakily pulled the paper lid off his jello. “Well, I hate that you have to see me like this. I’m usually a lot more put together.”

“Oh, stop it.” You waved him off, unwrapping his spoon for him. “I think you look great. You’ll be home in no time.”

Before he knew it, nearly twenty minutes had passed with you at his bedside. The jello cup sat empty on his bedside table, and his hands moved animatedly as you smiled and nodded, listening to him ramble about the effects of dopamine on the brain and body.

He winced as he looked up at the clock. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you have other patients.”

You stood, waving him off. “You’re fine, I’ve been keeping an eye on their monitors. I’ve liked talking to you. You’re definitely my most interesting patient.”

He fought back a smile at the compliment. You turned over your shoulder as you made your way to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Dr. Reid.”

He shook his head. “You can call me Spencer.”

“Well, I’ll be back, Spencer.” You shut the door behind you.

Over the next day or two, he rested, ate more than a healthy amount of jello, and talked to you as much as he possibly could. Each morning when you came back, you greeted him with familiarity, and he fought the urge to ask for extra things just so he could get you in his room more often. He knew, logically, that you had other patients, and that your kindness to him was probably job-related. But he couldn’t deny the way his pulse was always a little faster when you were in the room, and that he looked forward to your hourly rounds.

On his last day, you came in at 7:15, grinning. “Good morning, Spencer! And I say good morning because you have gotten the all-clear from the doctor to go home!”

Inexplicably, his heart sank a little. As happy as he was to have survived his injury and healed well (he knew four days was probably a short stay for this kind of wound), he hated the idea of not seeing you anymore.

You didn’t seem to notice his shift in mood. You kept talking, hooking him up to the vitals cart. “I just need to get one last set of vitals on you and I’ll get you your paperwork. Is there anyone you need to call to come get you?”

“I’ll, uh, I can call Penelope.” He cleared his throat.

“Oh, Penelope!” You unhooked the cuff as the machine beeped. “She was so sweet. Is she your girlfriend?”

Spencer nearly choked on air. “No! No.” he responded, probably a little too quickly. “We work together. And she’s a really great friend.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Well, alright then. She seems like a really good friend to have.” You wheeled the cart towards the door. “I’ll be back with your paperwork soon. Hang in there just a little longer!”

Spencer shook his head, trying to clear whatever negative feeling seemed to be stuck in his throat. He dialed Penelope’s number, and she answered quickly. Soon enough, she was at the hospital, helping pack his things.

You helped him with his discharge paperwork and gave him pamphlets about how to take care of his incision. Even after several days, he was enamored with the way you did your job with so much care. You didn’t seem like you rushed through his paperwork to get him out the door. You even brought him another cup of jello for the road.

You smiled warmly at him and Penelope as you wrapped up. “Well, I’ve really enjoyed having you! I’m so glad you’re doing better. Be careful in the field, okay? Keep saving the world.”

He smiled back at you through the ache in his chest that knew he was saying goodbye. “Thank you for everything.”

“It was no problem.” You waved as you stepped out of the room, going back to your job and your life and wherever you were that he wasn’t.

He swallowed, standing up and gathering his things. His mind was racing, and he wished silently that he could turn it off. It was time to go back, to cases and unsubs and stressors and triggers and no you no you no you—

“You totally have a crush on your nurse!” Penelope giggled, breaking the silence. “Why didn’t you ask her out?”

“What? I— well—“ Spencer spluttered. “She was just nice. Also, it would have been wildly inappropriate.”

“So you wanted to.” She retorted.

“I never said that.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, walking out of the room.

“You didn’t deny it.” Penelope teased as they walked past the nurse’s station towards the elevators. He craned his neck as they passed, his eyes scanning the staff, but he didn’t see you. He sighed, imagining you waving bye to him in front of your coworkers.

Wow, snap out of it, Reid, he reprimanded himself. You barely know her. Don’t be weird.

However, even after he was settled at home, Garcia making sure he had everything he needed before he was finally alone, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About your jokes, your kindness. That smile.

He paced his apartment. He made tea. He read three books before he realized he wasn’t retaining any of it. He tried and tried and tried to distract himself, and none of it was working.

So, at the risk of being wildly inappropriate, he ended up outside the hospital at 6:30.

Spencer tapped his foot against the concrete as he sat on the bench, the air cooling as the sun was setting. Every time he heard the electronic whir of the sliding doors, he looked up, both hopeful and terrified that it was you. He gripped in a nervous fist a bouquet of flowers that he had picked up on the way there.

He chided himself as his watch ticked closer and closer to 7. How could he even know you would walk out this door? He didn’t know your routine. He hardly knew you. In fact, this whole thing was absurd. He probably looked like some sort of stalker, standing out here, waiting for a staff member whose job it was to be nice to him and he was probably imagining the whole—

His mind stopped. Because then, he saw you.

You looked tired. Your badge clipped to your jacket, your hair a little mussed. You were shoving your stethoscope into your shoulder bag, but he felt like he was seeing something ethereal. Beautiful. Human.

He was on his feet before he realized. When you looked up, and your eyes landed on him, he swore his heart stopped beating.

“Spencer?” You half-laughed, walking over to him. You glanced down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up at him, your face a mix between confusion and pleasant surprise. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

He suddenly felt like his tongue was tied. He had spent the past hour and a half reciting in his head what he was going to say to you, and yet in this moment, he was terrified.

He settled on extending the flowers. “I, uh, I brought these for you.”

Your brows knit together as your face softened, reaching tentatively to take them from him.

“Wow, Spencer. You really didn’t have to do that.” Your eyes were a little shiny. He realized, arbitrarily, that he hadn’t seen you while standing up yet. He was used to being beneath you, smiling up at you while you checked on him or talked to him about your day. Now, you looked… smaller. More fragile. More real.

“I just… really appreciated the way you took care of me these past few days.” He replied, rocking slightly on his feet.

“You really came all this way just to give me flowers?” You asked, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

He took a steadying breath, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Well, actually, I… I came here to ask you on a date.”

There it was. Your eyes widened, and it seemed that now you were the one at a loss for words.

“Maybe there’s a textbook somewhere saying it’s a case of transference or Florence Nightingale syndrome or some other complicated psychological term I could ramble about, but the truth is…” He paused, swallowing hard. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left. A lot. And I didn’t want to leave things at just ‘thank you.’ And if you don’t feel the same way, I completely understand, and I will never come back here again, I promise—“

“Spencer.” You cut off his rapid train of speech, and he exhaled, his heart thudding out of his chest.

“Yeah?”

“I would love to.”

Oh. Fireworks were erupting somewhere behind his sternum, and he laughed a little in disbelief. “Really?”

You beamed. “Of course.” You reached into your bag, pulling out a crumpled up sticky note. You smoothed it out, passing it over with a shy smile. “I wrote this to give to you this morning and chickened out.”

His eyes scanned over it. Your handwriting scribbled on that wrinkled yellow paper, saying: “Spencer, if you ever need a follow-up, or just want to talk” followed by your phone number and a smiley face.

He was sure his cheeks were going to split open. He couldn’t figure out how to express the joy he was feeling, so he settled on: “How’s Friday?”

“Friday sounds amazing.” You zipped your bag back up, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “See you soon, Dr. Reid.”

And with that, you walked toward your car, shooting one last glance over your shoulder. And Spencer watched you, reminded of all the dopamine flooding his nervous system.

A/N: HEYYYY if you read this thank you so much i am terrified to put this on here. please let me know what you think i LOVE nurse!reader !!!! also this is so self-indulgent and i can’t bring myself to care so

[pancake-lovy]

I HATE when people don't break up their paragraphs. because 1. that's not multiple paragraphs, that's just one paragraph 2. why is it so close together?? did I accidentally read that line already. oh wait no it just confused me because of how close the words are 3. its confusing and makes me dizzy SPLIT UP YOUR PARAGRAPHS!!

[pancake-lovy]

Just saying, I know for a fact, I'd agree for the date with a Ravenclaw, f-ing up my chance with Lo, if he hasn't said anything about loving me like this before that moment...

BUT, more importantly, I am completely in love with how you've written it. It's funny, it's sweet, it's charming. It's basically exactly like how Lorenzo would be (in my dreamland)

Thank you for writing it <3

Rumor Has It - L.B

The Hogwarts Rumor Mill spreads gossip faster than a Firebolt. The newest scandal wrecking havoc on the school? You and Enzo have secretly been dating for months.

enzo x fem!reader, friends to lovers, kinda fake dating, fluff and comedy, 1.1k words

There were few things that were fact at Hogwarts. A couple of them included, the Slytherin vs Gryffindor quidditch match always ended with someone in the hospital wing, Ravenclaws gave the best advice, and the Hogwarts rumor mill ran faster than any firebolt could dream.

You’d heard secrets about third years you’d never met within an hour of them happening, told Pansy something and then heard Hermione Granger talking about it two tables over, even the professors weren’t safe in the endless grapevine.

It was always easy to figure out who the latest victim was based on who got stares at mealtimes or giggled at before class.

Which is why when you and Enzo walk into the Great Hall, laughing and shoulder to shoulder as usual, you immediately know that something is off. Half the school turns to stare, chatter quieting and giggles starting to echo from the younger years.

You pause mid step, and Enzo has to drag you through the last bit of aisle to your usual seats.

“That was weird, right?”

Your friends raise their eyebrows, but say nothing. You turn to Lorenzo for explanation, only to find him with a grin on his face.

“You haven’t heard?” He asks.

“Heard what?”

“That we’ve been secretly dating for four months. Apparently it’s very romantic,” he says casually, sending you a wink and stealing a peice of bacon off your plate.

You look at him in shock. “I feel like I would have remembered that.”

“That’s alright,” he says cheerfully, “everyone else remembers for you.”

You shove his shoulder and try to steal your food back, only for him to scarf it down and stick his tongue out at you like a child.

By the time you get to your first class you’ve gotten knowing smirks from three different people, a fourth year actually winks at you, and you hear a Hufflepuff say something that sounds suspiciously like finally.

It spreads like wildfire. You an Enzo: secret relationship, very private, very intense.

According to a Ravenclaw in your Arithmancy class, you two sneak up to the Astronomy Tower for moonlit, romantic rendezvous. A second year Slytherin insists she saw you wearing matching socks as a sign of commitment.

The next few days are chaos. People are weirdly supportive. Even Professor Flitwick calls you a ‘charming pair’ when you accidentally sit too close in Charms.

You try to stay calm, but Enzo makes it increasingly difficult. He’s always been touchy, but suddenly he’s sitting next to you in every single class and free time, slinging an arm around your shoulder like it belongs there. He starts calling you darling like it’s your legal name.

He appears next to you in the corridors between class, interlacing your fingers and winking to onlookers.

You glare at him, “you’re making this worse.”

“Making what worse?”

“The fact that I’m getting asked about our fictional relationship six times a day.”

“Oh no,” he gasps in mock horror, “you mean people think you’re dating a tall, charming, devastatingly handsome Slytherin with flawless hair? What a nightmare!”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet here we are, holding hands.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.

The following week someone sees the two of you sharing a cloak in the rain, and suddenly the length has been raised, and it’s actually been seven months.

Lorenzo finds the whole thing hilarious.

You try to laugh along, ignoring how real it feels when his arm automatically finds your waist and your head tilts to lay on his shoulder during study sessions like it belongs there.

The two of you are working on an essay in the library one night, ignoring the prying eyes around you and tossing Berties Bott’s beans into each others mouths.

“I’ve had multiple people ask me what your favorite flower is this week,” he mentions casually, narrowly missing the popcorn flavored bean you throw at him.

“Why?” you question incredulously.

“Hogsmeade is coming up. Apparently dating me doesn’t make you off limits,” he rolls his eyes as he says it, and you miss the way his grip tightens around his quill.

“Maybe they think I’m secretly pining after someone else.”

He leans conspiratorially towards you. “Are you?”

You hesitate, “maybe.”

His smile falters for had a second, but he quickly recovers. “How scandalous.”

You go back to writing, trying not to focus on how comforting his presence is, even when he finishes his essay and rests his chin on your shoulder to watch you finish yours.

“You know,” he says as the two of you walk back to your dorms, hands interlocked even though there were no other students around. “If we were dating, I think we’d make a brilliant couple.”

“You think?”

He pauses for a moment, helping you cross into the common room. His voice is softer when he speaks, “Yeah, I think so.”

Your heart pounds in your chest alarmingly, and you fight to change the subject. “You still owe me for the toast you stole this morning.”

He walks you all the way to the stairwell that leads to the girls dorms.

“Noted, girlfriend tax.”

You throw a crumpled parchment at him, and he bids you goodnight even as it smacks him in the face.

You’re whispering with Pansy the next day, panic laced in your voice upon the realization that your heart seems to not realize Enzo isn’t actually your boyfriend.

She’s laughing when a seventh year Ravenclaw approaches the two of you, looking down at his feet.

“Hey Yn… I didn’t want to get in the way of you and Enzo, but rumor has it maybe it’s not true, so I was just wondering if maybe you’d want to join me in Hogsmeade next week?”

Before you can even open your mouth to answer, Enzo appears behind you as if summoned, flinging an arm around your shoulder.

His grin is far too wide when he speaks. “Hogsmeade? Awfully bad weather for a date, don’t you think, love?”

Your head instantly turns to his at the pet name, and you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach when you meet his eyes.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interfere,” the other boy scrambles away, opting to not stand there and witness you looking at Enzo with hearts in your eyes.

“I’m never going to get asked on a date again.”

Enzo grins, bringing his hand up to rest on your jaw.

“Good. I can take you on however many you want.”

You feel the weight of every hand hold, every shared smile, and every almost touch come rushing forward.

You push up on your tippy toes to get closer to him, and his breath hitches when your noses brush.

“For real?” You question.

“We’ll make the most brilliant couple in the castle, if you’ll have me, of course.”

You push your lips into his as a response, bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces as fireworks go off in your stomach.

[pancake-lovy]

OH.MY.GODS

It's so, so freaking beautiful! Like... SERIOUSLY

Share some of this beauty of your writing style with me, please

Or keep it a secret as your own personal thing that you have in your fanfictions/one-shots. Either is fine, to be fair

And tbf, I don't have words to describe this story. I'm just so in awe of this whole thing, and I love everything in it

not the anon who rq for lap sitting with spencer but i think it would be soooo cute if he volunteers to be one of the mascots at henry's or jack's bday party and bau!reader is known for her art so she does spencer's face paint and the most convenient position is sitting on his lap sjshjshsksbsjwb bonus if spencer's all flustered and the other members are teasing him in the background hehehehe

face-painting — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader sits in spencer's lap, teasing from the team ( mostly morgan though ) a/n: haiiiii !!! love love this idea <3

“So… you’re being forced by a bunch of little kids to get your face painted?” you asked, biting back a laugh as you glanced up at Spencer from the patio couch.

His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, his shoulders slightly hunched with embarrassment. “They want me to match their face paint,” he muttered, cheeks pink, eyes shifting toward the garden where the group of children were still running around, giggling and showing off their newly painted faces.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. The table in front of you was cluttered with little pots of paint. You’d been painting faces all afternoon: butterflies, pirate scars, superheroes, and rainbows. And apparently, Spencer’s magic tricks had been such a hit that the kids had decided he had to look the part too. Jack had practically dragged him over, already rattling off ideas—“A rocket! No, a dragon! Or stars, like a whole galaxy!”

And now here Spencer was, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the couch beside you, brushing invisible lint from his pants in a futile effort to distract himself from the fact that you were about to get very, very close to his face.

You smiled gently, sensing his nerves. He was always a little shy with you, which only made him more endearing. “How about I paint a couple stars and moons? A little night sky?” you suggested, glancing down at your palette to check the colors. Yeah, you had enough gold, silver, and a touch of glitter for good measure.

You looked back up at him, waiting. “Sound okay?”

Spencer nodded, his smile small. “Sounds good,” he said, voice a little tight with nerves.

You scooted a bit closer, grabbing one of the thinner brushes and dipping it into the dark blue paint. “This okay?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing under his chin to tilt his face toward the light.

He blinked at you, the contact sending a small shiver through him. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

You started painting the side of Spencer’s face. But the paint didn’t cooperate. The lines smeared slightly, too thick in one spot, too thin in another. You paused, pulling your hand back with a quiet sigh.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, eyes flickering to you. He was already struggling to keep his heart rate under control. But the moment you pulled away, he missed your warmth immediately.

You glanced at him, a little sheepish. “Can I… um, can I sit in your lap?”

“What?” he said, too loudly, staring at you with wide, startled eyes and parted lips. His entire body went rigid, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at his expression.

“I’m struggling a bit here,” you explained, pointing to the faint, imperfect line near his temple. “The curving’s all weird, and it’s bothering me. I need a better angle.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of how bold the request might have sounded. “That okay with you?”

Spencer’s mind went completely blank. Sitting in his lap? You? He didn’t trust his voice not to crack or betray just how deeply he wanted that, so instead he gave a small nod. “Mhm.”

Your face lit up as you motioned with your hands for him to lean back against the patio couch. Spencer obeyed silently, straightening his spine and pressing his back against the cushions. You gathered the colors you needed, setting the tiny pots of paint carefully beside him on the couch. Hotch’s furniture did look suspiciously expensive, and you weren’t about to risk staining it with navy blue and glitter dust. Once everything was in place, you stood up, then slowly lowered yourself into Spencer’s lap, your knees bracketing his hips.

He went completely still beneath you. Spencer was desperately trying to focus on anything except the feeling of you in his lap. He began reciting the digits of pi in his head. Anything to keep his brain from short-circuiting.

You picked up the brush again. “Okay?” you asked gently, glancing down at him.

He nodded again. “Yeah,” he said softly, and you noticed the red creeping up his neck.

You dipped the brush into yellow and guided his face toward the light. As you started painting the little star onto his temple, you caught him awkwardly shifting his hands, unsure where to place them, what to do with them. Without thinking, you reached for one of his hands with your free one, guiding it gently to your waist. You felt his breath hitch as your fingers closed around his. Then, just as calmly, you took his other hand and placed it around your hip.

“There,” you said simply, giving him a reassuring smile before returning to your work. “That’s better.”

Spencer didn’t say anything. He just sat there, heart pounding and hands on your hips. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, how this strange, magical afternoon had brought you here, in his lap, painting stars on his skin.

You weren’t even halfway through painting the first yellow star when you heard Morgan’s voice from behind. “Well, would you look at that?” he drawled, loud enough for everyone on the patio to hear. He followed it with a whistle.

You didn’t bother turning around. Spencer, however, went beet red. His ears flushed a deep crimson as he stiffened slightly beneath you.

“Go away, Morgan,” you mumbled, leaning in closer to steady your brush. Your breath brushed against Spencer’s temple, and he closed his eyes instinctively, trying not to melt under the warmth of it. Your free hand rested gently on his cheekbone, thumb unconsciously stroking his skin.

Morgan chuckled, clearly enjoying himself a little too much. “Looking good, Van Gogh,” he said, nodding toward the star you’d just finished.

“Thank you,” you replied dryly, still not sparing him a glance. Your thumb moved over Spencer’s cheek again, softer this time, as if to silently say don’t mind him.

Behind you, Morgan’s footsteps retreated, only to be replaced by the Garcia chiming in with a dramatic gasp and a delighted, “Oh my God, they’re adorable.” The sound of giggles and gossip followed as the rest of the team began sneaking glances your way.

Spencer tensed slightly. “Don’t mind them,” you mumbled, as you dipped your brush into silver. “They’re just jealous because you’re the one getting stars and moons painted on your face.”

That got a laugh out of him. One that made your heart flip. “Yeah, sure. I can totally picture Rossi sitting down for face paint,” he muttered, eyes closed now, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You grinned, grateful he was loosening up. “Hey, you never know. I could do an Italian flag on his face. I bet he’d secretly love it.”

Spencer laughed quietly at that, and his hands, still resting on your hips, gave a gentle squeeze. One of his thumbs began rubbing small circles against your side, a subconscious gesture that made your breath catch just a little. You dipped your brush again, this time in pale gold, and began sketching the curve of a crescent moon on his temple. But you could tell that he was still just the tiniest bit nervous. His posture was a little too careful, like he didn’t quite know how to be in this moment, even though he clearly didn’t want to leave it.

“So,” you said gently, changing the subject to something you knew would light him up, “what magic tricks are you planning to show the kids? Or which ones have you already done?”

Just like that, Spencer’s whole expression changed. The tension in his shoulders melted. His eyes opened. “Oh,” he started, “I did the disappearing coin trick, and then a card prediction with Jack—he helped me with it—and I brought this little folding top hat that has a silk flower hidden in a compartment, and I’m thinking about doing the rope knot illusion next…”

He began to ramble, hands occasionally gesturing in the air as he spoke and you smiled to yourself. Every so often, you had to tell him, “Hold still, Spencer,” as the brush slipped from his constant movement.

“Sorry,” he said, each time, grinning sheepishly. But you didn’t mind. You wanted him to talk. The team’s snickering and commentary continued in the background, but you tuned them out completely.

When you finally finished the last detail, you leaned back slightly, studying your work with a tilt of your head. His lashes fluttered as you turned his face gently toward you.

“I think it looks good,” you murmured to yourself. The lines weren’t crooked anymore. The curves sat perfectly. And nothing looked out of place, not even the nervous, pink flush still warming Spencer’s cheeks.

You shifted in his lap to grab the small handheld mirror from the table behind you. The second you twisted your body, Spencer’s hands tightened instinctively on your hips, steadying you so you wouldn’t fall off.

You handed him the mirror, your hands resting lightly against his ribs as you waited for his reaction. He was glad for the thick sweater he was wearing. If you could feel the way his heart was racing or the goosebumps that had spread across his skin, he’d be mortified.

Spencer looked into the mirror, eyes scanning the stars and moon dotting his temple. He turned his face slightly. “I love it,” he said after a beat, voice full of admiration. “The moon looks amazing.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders relaxing as your posture slouched slightly with a smile. You hadn’t realized how much you'd wanted him to like it.

And right on cue, Jack came running over. “Are you done?” he asked, bouncing on his feet. “We want to see more magic!”

You grinned, catching Spencer’s eye. “Your handsome magician is ready,” you told Jack, then turned Spencer’s face gently toward the boy with your fingers on his cheek. “Look!”

Spencer nearly imploded at the word handsome, his brain briefly short-circuiting as Jack leaned in to examine the artwork.

“Oh, cool!” Jack beamed, pointing at a little yellow star. “That one has a smiley face!”

You laughed. “That one’s my favorite too.”

“Can we start now?” Jack asked, turning his eyes toward Spencer.

Spencer managed to nod, still slightly stunned. “I’ll be right there,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from the emotional whiplash.

You both watched as Jack ran across the patio toward Hotch, clearly to announce that the show was back on and that Spencer had cool stars and a moon on his face now. Hotch just nodded, amusement tugging at his mouth.

You turned back to Spencer, who was already looking at you. Neither of you moved. Both of you knew. You knew that you didn’t really want this moment to end. But still, it had to.

“Thank you,” Spencer said softly.

“You’re welcome,” you said with a matching smile. Your hand rose once more, this time to pat his chest gently, right over where his heart was still hammering.

And reluctantly, you rose from his lap.

Spencer’s hands hovered for a moment before settling in his lap, fingers twitching as if they still wanted to hold onto you. He looked up at you a little dazed.

You offered him one last playful smile before nodding toward the garden.“Go wow them, starboy.” Spencer stood, brushing his hands nervously on his pants before glancing back at you with a smile.

With your stars and moons still shimmering on his skin, he stepped off to where the kids were waiting, and you sat back on the couch, heart warm and full.

[pancake-lovy]

That is so sweet, and lovely!

I love the way Spencer got so comfortable as soon as he laid down on top of reader, and how "we" just comforted him the best "we" knew

Also, the fact that by the end Spencer just fell asleep on us <3

just thinking about spencer coming to you when he has a migraine cuz he knows you'll help him feel better 🤭🥰

wc: 0.4k

"Angel?" His voice is quiet and when you look up, he's squinting, a fist curled into his sweater tightly.

"What's up Spence?" You put your book down on the couch next to you as he shuffles closer. "Are you okay?"

"no..." He mumbles, climbing onto the couch, struggling slightly to fit all his lanky limbs as he settles on top of you.

"What's wrong?" Your hand finds its way into his hair, his head resting on your chest as his arms wrap around you.

"Migraine." He answers simply, his voice impossibly soft as his eyes close, even the warm golden light from the lamp too much for him right now.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby." Your fingers card through his hair, using a gentle pressure on his scalp that you know to always help him. "Do you want tea or a cold compress or anything?"

He shook his head, trying to bury deeper into your arms. Just being on top of you wasn't enough. He needed to be a part of you, he needed to feel you in his bones.

Neither of you are sure how much time passes as you lay on the couch, tangled together but it doesn't matter. You'd spend an eternity here, with him. And him with you.

His migraine eases a bit but it never fully goes away that quick, not even with your magic hands. 'Just a curse of having such a big brain' is what you like to say.

You continue to work at his head, fingertips massaging into his head before moving down to the back of his neck. He hums into you, almost a moan of pleasure and relief into your neck, placing a gentle, thankful kiss on your skin.

"Feel any better?" You murmured, after an unknown amount of minutes, maybe hours, into his brown curly mop of hair. He hums again.

"Yes. Thank you." Yet you noticed he hadn't made any indication that he intended to move off of you. Not like you wanted him to.

At some point, he fell asleep, curled into your neck, breathing softly, taking in your scent on every inhale. You weren't planning on moving either, at least not until he woke up and you were sure he felt better.

[pancake-lovy]

Okay, first of all. The way this request was phrased is HILARIOUS

Second of all...

I love this imagine. I love how you've written it.

I love the fact that the team has made a bet on which one would spill the tea first, it was such an interesting and funny part of the story

Also, the STAIN on the CUP from our LIPSTICK

I'm obsessed, literally. The world "love" isn't even enough here!

And in general, this whole imagine is so adorable <3

can i request spencer reid fic you said you were writing months ago 😍

ok short one for you cuz i said so. also that was on WATTPAD. this is TUMBLR. 🥀

“caught.” spencer reid.

summary: not even the two smartest profilers can hide their relationship from their team.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

insp by: ophelia’s constant NAGGING. and also roi by videoclub

notes: basically pure fluff, secret relationship, not exactly an established relationship, very slight suggestive content

a/n: started this at 1:10am and finished at exactly 1:42am we are… cooking… nothing good but we are still cooking

it happens before he can even realise what’s going on.

the purple scarf that hangs from his neck is pulled off so fast that he thinks he’s gotten whiplash, and his coffee cup is pulled right out of his hands.

he turns with a frown. jj is standing over him, holding his scarf in her hands like she had just confiscated it off of him, and morgan stands beside her, inspecting the cup spencer had only bought that morning.

“yup. as expected.” jj says matter-of-factly.

morgan quirks an eyebrow, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, “i’m surprised there’s none on him.”

“what?” spencer glances between jj and morgan, “what are we talking about?”

“lipstick marks, pretty boy.” morgan tells him as he hands jj the coffee cup.

jj places it back onto spencer’s desk, “did you even notice there’s a lipstick mark on your coffee cup?”

and oh my god, there is. bright and red, just like his cheeks. spencer tries to play it cool— raising his brows and shooting them a tight-lipped smile like he doesn’t know what they’re talking about.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh, don’t play dumb, spence.” jj rolls her eyes. she points over to you, who’s being just as interrogated as he is.

penelope and emily are staring you down equally as hard. there’s a tie in oenelope’s hand, one spencer recognises as his— the one he had lent you that morning after you had spent the night— and he gulps. he can tell that you’re surprised as well by the way you’re frozen in your spot.

“there’s only one person wearing lipstick that colour. and conveniently, she’s wearing a tie that’s way too big for her.” jj places her hands on spencer’s desk as if this were a real police investigation, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

he could have come up with another explanation on the spot, but for some reason, his mind had blanked. him? spencer reid’s mind blanked? it was unheard of.

“that’s my lip balm.” he states, smacking his lips together for maximum effect.

jj and morgan glance at each other. this is going to take a while.

penelope holds the tie like a noose. she wraps it between her hands so tight that it turns her fingers lilac. it feels like she’s trying to be intimidating, but even emily’s a little concerned.

“you don’t even wear ties.” emily says, “so why the sudden change in fashion choice?”

you shrug, “new year, new me, i guess.”

penelope narrows her eyes, trying to comprehend what you had just said, “it’s october.”

“never too late to start experimenting.” you try to derail their questioning and point at the tie like you don’t even care about it, “if you guys are so interested in that tie, you can have it.”

“you sure nobody’s gonna miss it?” penelope prods.

you shake your head, “nope.”

you stand up from your chair and start heading over to the kitchenette, hoping to rid yourself of penelope and emily’s questioning.

you pass spencer’s desk on the way. jj and morgan are cornering him, and it almost makes you wanna laugh until you realise penelope and emily are doing the exact same thing to you.

you know what they’re doing, and it’s amusing— nerve wracking, but still amusing. you’re interested to see what they use for evidence. the tie was an obvious one.

you press a couple buttons on the coffee machine and it starts whirring. penelope leans on the counter beside you with a mischievous grin, almost like she has another piece of evidence up her sleeve.

it can’t be any more obvious than the tie, you think, nothing is more obvious than the— oh my god.

“what’s that?” you try to act dumb as you stare at the laptop penelope’s just pulled from behind her back, but you know better— and penelope and emily know you do.

“your location.” penelope gleams, “which has pinged exactly 43 times at mr spencer reid’s house from 5:34pm last night until 7:17am this morning.”

you’re screwed.

the first thing you want to address is— “penelope, you hacked into my phone?”

“well, not exactly. just tracked your location.” she shrugs, “and don’t try to change the subject, missy. we know you spent the night with spencer!”

“and seriously. we aren’t judging you guys.” emily says like it’s the most normal thing in the world, “we’re just… curious.”

“honestly, we kind of love it.” penelope admits, “makes the office feel like a romantic slow-burn movie where you yell at the tv for them to finally just kiss in the copy room.”

emily laughs as she adds, “or like a nature documentary where the two birds of paradise do weird little mating dances around each other.”

you whince, “i’m guessing we’re the birds?”

emily nods solemnly, “you are so the birds.”

you reach up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. you glance across the room at spencer, who’s totally and utterly distracted by jj and morgan. he’s not going to save you now.

“okay, fine.” you confess, “we’re kind of together.”

they both gasp. penelope clenches her hands to her chest like she’s just won the lottery and emily just hops up and down in joy. it confuses you, but you’re sure they’re just happy for you.

“but not like that. not officially. but also not not. so yes, something is happening. it’s actually been happening for a while. i’m surprised you guys only caught on after we’d gotten sloppy.” you add.

penelope gasps as if she’d just got proposed to.

that’s when she turns around and cheers as if the office isn’t full of people. and although they’re quite a distance away, you can see the defeat in jj and morgan’s eyes.

they groan as they head towards the kitchenette, spencer trailing closely behind them, confused on what was happening right now.

he’s still committed to the act of playing dumb— standing measly behind jj and morgan when he really wants to be standing beside you. he glances at you, and you can see the faint remains of a blush on his cheeks.

“wow, she spilled?” jj groans, “i totally thought spencer would.”

emily cheers as she watches the jj and morgan take out their wallets, “come on, pay up, losers!”

spencer furrows his brows. he sits up in his chair, “wait, you bet on us?”

“hey, you can’t blame us.” penelope points out as she sniffs the crisp five dollar note, “this is the most interesting thing that’s happened this week. just because we work for the government, doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

“i mean—“ spencer almost feels a little betrayed when he sees you rolling your eyes and laughing a little bit, “does hotch know about this?”

“of course, he does.” emily laughs, “he owes us ten bucks!”

[pancake-lovy]

Thank you for tagging me! <3

Also, I think it's hilarious that I "stole" a picture from two people (and that my pictures kind of separated into two colours of aesthetics or whatever... if "colour" and "aesthetic" categories would be switched, it'd probably work better, but still)

I don't know who to tag tbh, I'll get to you back on that. For now, if you want to, go ahead

pinterest search: lyrics. place. outfit. character. color. aesthetic.

Thank you @marcelthefemme! Didn't have to hold me at gunpoint, but I appreciate the enthusiasm😂

Tagging @ghostlament @thckskulll @dyke-dyke-goose @elviradyke @butch-ings

[pancake-lovy]

!! NEWS !!

New one-shot (this time about Allison Argent) is coming soon

In the meantime, you can also except a change for different fandoms

Including the ones I’ve mentioned in the tags and more, if I’ve forgotten some

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

[pancake-lovy]

GROWING UP COLLECTION

Add charm and playfulness to your little Sims' rooms with the Growing Up collection! This cheerful CC set features fully functional & Animated items, including a cozy bed, adorable plushies, Playboard Toybox, and colorful decor.

My Download Page

Visit my Pinterest and my Instagram to check out more of my cc collections

DOWNLOAD

[pancake-lovy]

💗 «Love my skin» set💗 Download (Patreon)

[pancake-lovy]

hoodie date || Blanny

request: no

pairing: oc!Blake Delgado-Stilinski x Danny Mahealani

content: semi-safe drive up the hill, being in the forest in the evening, gay love, mlm story, picnic date on the hill, laying on the blanket, serious conversations, avoiding fights to whatever it is, fear of breaking up, bad relationships (don't do irl, be an attentive partner)

summary: On third of December, Blake and Danny decide to have a date under the stars. But one thing they aren't sure is, if sharing a hoodie is going to help them. Would that ever be enough for the couple of people too scared to love each other?

based on: ❛ do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? ❜ @nightprompts

“Okay, and we’re here.” Blake spoke up once more. He let go off of the steering wheel, parking the car on the side of the forest. He was glad that they were still able to drive up the hill without getting into some incident. After opening the door and leaving the car, he moved to the other side of it. He held the door on that side open for Danny, even though he was practically standing on the ground by the time the blond has done that.

“Thank you, but maybe let’s grab the bag before it grows legs or something.” When the black-haired man watched his boyfriend open the backseat door and grab their food, a smile spread across his face. He grabbed both of their phones from between the front seats, too. Despite everything, they’d still need them even if they were on a date.

After a bit of the walk, they’ve gotten to the place they’ve seen so many times — whether it was separately or together, but this was most likely one of the views that truly defined Beacon Hills’ forest. And it was so romantic, so breathtaking. Then, they also placed the blanket over the grass close to the big rocks covering the end of the hill. Blake put down the bag with food, just before Danny put their phones next to it. They’ve both taken their seats, and for a few more minutes, neither of them has said anything. They were just admiring the night sky above their city, as if it was the last day that they had with one another.

At some point, the brown-eyed teenager opened the bag to take out different boxes with fruits, pancakes, cakes, and different meals which he has hoped would stay fine for the drive here (and they have). They began to eat the food, not wanting it to go to waste. They still didn’t speak a single word ever since they’ve stopped talking during their drive to the forest. One would think that they were going to have an actual conversation, considering the days and hours they’ve missed out on. The ones during which both of them were too busy, doing other things and not even thinking about hanging out with one another.

“It’s the third of December.” Blake said after a while. His gaze was still focused on the already open boxes spread out on the red blanket. Almost like he was too afraid of rejection, too afraid of messing things up once more. After all, he knew that he was at fault for most of those moments and for their lost closure.

“It is.” Danny replied, partially asking him for confirmation — maybe even some kind of explanation of what he was getting to — and partially just stating this fact as if it was something painfully obvious. Which it was, it is also the first December the Third on which they didn’t seem to get along as well as usually. The first one on which neither of them has given the other one a hoodie, even though it was almost the end of the day.

“Yes.” His voice sounded more stern than he wished it would. It could’ve been just his anxiety, and maybe there was a part of him knowing that none of those actions were worth it at the end. Still, the blond pulled off his navy blouse with ‘boy-kisser’ written across it. He stretched out his arm towards the Mahaelani boy, and he finally looked him right in the eyes. However, what came after disproved of any thoughts that have appeared in his mind.

“Hey, where’s my crazy boyfriend, who knows I love this little tradition too much to not take the blouse for myself?” The black-haired man teased the other one. One of the corners of his mouth rose slightly. Amusement clearly showed in his eyes, in spite of him still being as serious as ever. Because Danny truly cared about him. No matter how many lost date nights without them painting together and eating pizza there would be. His words were carrying the truth, since he changed from his own blouse to the one from Blake, and he gave his own to the other boy, too.

“Sorry.” Blake chuckled, and now that his hand was free, it instinctively went to the back of his head. He ruffled his own hair, before soothing them back down. His shoulders slumped a bit. Despite all of that, he was still watching his lover. There was the same soft, calm look all over his face as whenever he was actually looking at the man. Just like whenever he was even near him, and when he was able to hear his voice. Though, there was no reason to think longer about all of the ways he loved Danny so dearly. There was still food that needed to be, at least mostly, eaten before they could go back home.

Once they have finished their meals and packed the boxes into the bag again, they both laid down on the blanket. The bag was moved to the grass, so they had more space. Blake’s hands were laying on top of Danny’s, and their arms were also touching. Both of them could hear the other one’s soft breaths over the quiet evening. For most of that time, they didn’t want to interrupt the peace they were able to experience. They weren’t sure if it wasn’t going to ruin everything once more. Just like always, they avoided having a fight like fire… Even though, having a more serious conversation and actually explaining why they didn’t have time for dating was more than needed at the moment. Who knows, maybe with one more secret it would all just go ‘boom!’…

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together?”

“You do?” Blake recognized the small difference between Danny’s tone, when he was just asking a question and when he was trying to figure out if they agreed. At the same time, he turned a bit to the side. First his face, then anything from the waist down, and his torso was turned last. But he changed his mind, and lifted himself up. He leaned his jaw on one of his hands. His eyes still stayed on the brunet’s face. He was still waiting, with furrowed eyebrows and his head tilted to the side as if on the pure instinct of doing so.

“Maybe… Or maybe I just wish that we were the souls it would fight for. So we could have one more chance to be truly happy with each other.”

[pancake-lovy]

Cutie patootie (I love this art)

I thought Sebastian could look good in a beanie.

-------

I'M ALIIIIVEEEE!!!!

Just been dealing with some health issues for a while and finally feel well enough to whip up something.

[pancake-lovy]

Peace be upon you. I don't know how to tell you, but I really have never extended my hand to anyone in my entire life, but the war has left us with no money, and my father was seriously injured for the second time, and they can no longer provide for us or work. My big brother was martyred, and we no longer have anyone to help us. Just help us, even with a euro, because it would really help me and I would be grateful to you. The occupation burned our house and our car, and they have left us with nothing in this life. I no longer aspire to collect money to complete my education in medicine because the amount is large, but all I want is to treat my father so that I do not lose him as I lost my brother. Please put yourself in my place as you see the dearest people to you die. Thank you for listening to my story. I hope you do not ignore my feelings.

https://gofund.me/bdfbc1aa

link

[pancake-lovy]

Today we took our young son to the hospital because he suffers from two holes in his heart, which affects his breathing and causes him pain. I hope that everyone will help us save our young son’s life and donate any amount possible to provide treatment and medicine

@90-ghost @sayruq @nabulsi @neptunerings @flower-tea-fairies @appsa @a-shade-of-blue @sar-soor @commissions4aid-international @paper-mario-wiki @dlxxv-vetted-donations @gaza-evacuation-funds @cinnamonalex @fantasticfilmfanatic-123 @tamamita @tamarrud @captainsaltymuyfancy2 @vaporize-employers @starlightsugar @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @dykesbat @gaza-evacuation-funds @acepumpkinpatrick @tsaricides @feluka @kordeliiius @queerstudiesnatural @the-bastard-king @aria-ashryver @malcriada @skeetlebeetle @tater-tot-pot-dish @heatslice-blog @yellowis4happy @self-hating-zionist @friendshapedplant @toastybugguy @rain-rome @seasonofprophecy @socalgal @vague-humanoid @chilewithcarnage @frigidwife @stuckinapril @king-b0mbastic @qattdraws @irhabiya @neptunerings @sayruq @gazagfmboost

[pancake-lovy]

Hello 🙋

My name is Ahmed, I’m 20 years old, and I’m from Gaza City. I used to dream of a peaceful life, completing my education, and getting a job, but the war has turned that dream into something impossible 💔😭. We lived through this massacre in every painful detail, and we are still in pain 😔. We were so happy when the ceasefire was announced, and we returned to our homes in the north of Gaza after being displaced for a year and a half in a tent in the south of the Strip. After we fixed a small room in our destroyed house to live in and start over, unfortunately, the war returned, stronger than before 💔. Now, we have no shelter and no source of income. We have exhausted all our savings during the war. I know that I started my campaign very late, but that’s because there is no other way to help my family 🙏. I am fully confident and hopeful that someone here will help us as much as they can and save my family in these difficult circumstances 😔.

I know that the feeling of starting from scratch is painful and frustrating, but I hope to receive any amount for my family 🥺🙏.

https://chuffed.org/project/helpahmedfamily

Even a small donation would have a great impact on us 🥺. May God bless you, my friend 🥰❤️.

[pancake-lovy]

link

Update🚨🇵🇸🇵🇸

Today, the war in Gaza has stopped after a year and a half, thank God.

We cannot return to Gaza now because we do not have a house or even the travel expenses. Please help me, even a little, so that we can return and I can rebuild my house.

Thanks to anyone who helps even a little 🇵🇸🙏🏼🙏🏼

[pancake-lovy]

I am Kareman Dohan، From besieged Gaza

I record this message in the 21st century, specifically in the year 2025, fully aware and in sound mind. I hereby testify, confess, and declare that a criminal entity—ruled by violent gangs—has revived the horrors of Nazism, and has even surpassed them. For over 600 days, it has committed one of the greatest atrocities of our modern age, in a place called Gaza. They murdered our children before our men, our women before our youth. They destroyed homes, displaced families, and starved the innocent. And this brutal campaign has not stopped—not even as I speak these words. The world today counts more than 8.2 billion people, Yet not a single force has been able to stop the bloodshed, or protect the defenseless.

I call upon every free soul, every conscience still alive, Spread this message far and wide.

Speak up. Act.

Support my people. Support my family.

Let your silence not be another weapon used against us.

Silence is complicity.

Solidarity is a duty.

Donate to my family and my little boy, donation links below the post or by clicking here

Short video of 600 days of war

Donate here🌸:

GoFundMe: Click here

PayPal: Click here

Chuffed: Click here

My campaing vetted by/ @90-ghost here @gaza-evacuation-funds here My number in post 6