#Emergency Keychain
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the thing abt me is i dont even want normal ck merch like shirts or whatever i want the fisher price cobra kai little people collector four-pack

#s.txt#they look so stupid. i need them#this + the remaining keychains + the official ck coloring book + that daniel power rangers xover figure.#i need them [chozen voice] for my collection#karate administrative emergency
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want a commission? helloooo..!!
doing 10$ sketches, 20$ flat colors, 30$ full renders, and 8$ (plus shipping) keychains :33
check 'em out !!!!!
vvvvvv
https://ko-fi.com/labyrinthonaut/commissions
#art#artists on tumblr#fanart#cricketsmustbeenslaved#advertising#art commissions#emergency commissions#comms open#cheap commissions#custom keychains
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🚨 SEVENTEEN Keychain Sale! 🚨
Carats, I’m in a bit of an emergency and need to clear out my remaining stock ASAP! 💖 So, I’m putting my keychains on sale! Once they’re gone, they won’t be restocked! 😭
🌷 Sale Price: ₹300 (India) | $4.50 (Intl) 🌷 FREE Carat Power Up! Sticker with every order! 🌷 Buy 5 or more keychains & get a FREE matching sticker with each one! 🌷 Ships worldwide! 🌎
Some members are already selling out, so don’t wait too long! 🍑
Grab yours now: linktr.ee/cutepeachco
#emergency sale#help an artist#support artists#seventeen the8#keychain sale#illustrator#kawaii#procreate#digital illustration#photoshop#kawaii art#seventeen#kwon soonyoung#scoups#hoshi
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Unfortunately I Am Not Immune to the Allure of Tools
#‘what if i bought a keychain emergency fire starter’#am i putting a carabiner in my cart that’s also a saw and a bottle opener and a penknife? yes.#chatpost
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my advice for meeting people and/or making friends in real life
get yourself a bag. my bag is a canvas one my stepdad got me from point pleasant, with a logo containing mothman and the text "MOTHMAN SEARCH TEAM \ POINT PLEASANT, WV". however, the specific bag does not matter, as long as you can move to step two without fucking it up (so do NOT use leather, pleather, or plastic, unless they have some kind of fabric straps that can be decorated. actually dont use pleather at all. pleather will fall apart. pleather is not built to last.)
accessorize the fuck out of it. mine is covered in pins and keychains. the more variety, the better. it needs to tell people things about you: your interests, your style, what you find funny or cool, or whatever you want
take the bag everywhere. chances are, somebody is going to see it and find it cool. most people notice the mothman logo on mine first, ask me where i got it, and sometimes they continue to ask to see my pins and keychains. its a great conversation starter, as i get to tell them about some of the things my pins represent
you can do similar things with other objects — i always wear bracelets i made myself, and they have started a grand total of one conversation, which is fine bcus theyre a lot more subtle in the way they show my interests and are really just for me — as long as they are eye catching and show things about you. bags are the easiest for me since they are functional and can be worn in any season or weather, but you can use jewelry, jackets, pants, or whatever!
go. touch grass. socialize. meet people.
this is the bag for anyone wondering





we got pokémon, kirby, chonny jash (specifically cccc), vocaloid, inanimate insanity, invader zim, and a lot of miscellaneous pins. im also hoping to one day add a raggedy ann related pin. no more keychains though i do not have room for more keychains
the kirby keychain used to be pink but the color faded a long time ago so now hes just floating in clear liquid
#🩵#ID LIKE TO NOTE THAT I DO NOT HAVE REAL LIFE FRIENDS#DUE TO THE FACT THAT I DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH OPPORTUNITIES TO SOCIALIZE WITH ONE GROUP OF PEOPLE#I MEET SOMEONE ONCE AND NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN#BUT MY BAG HAS STARTED CONVERSATIONS MANY TIMES#INCLUDING TODAY I GOT TO TALK ABOUT MY VOCALOID KEYCHAINS TODAY#IF I HAD OPPORTUNITIES TO ROUTINELY SPEAK TO ONE GROUP OF PEOPLE THE BAG WOULD MOST LIKELY HELP ME FIND PEOPLE WITH SIMILAR INTERESTS#the silver thing on the pokémon kirby side is a multitool btw#its got pliers a file two different screwdriver heads and a knife#the knife is tiny i probably wont get in any trouble for it#the multitool is there for emergencies not for conversations#and bcus i like having shit like that
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I was considering buying Jiu's garment for real. Thanks gods i calculated the amount it would cost before buying and came to my sense ( ;´ - `;)
#the best deal for enough crystal for the garment would still be like 430k in my country currency#my bank account would be empty if i buy that#i need to save money for a con in october and for emergency#i cant use that money for a digital item from a game im not even sure if i'll still be playing after a year#i can buy a jiu keychain/standee at the con or even draw and print one myself for less#diary
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#Emergency QR Sticker For Bike Safety#Smart QR Code Sticker for 2 Wheeler#Buy Wrong Parking QR Tag for Bike#QR Code Smart Sticker for Car#Wrong Parking Smart QR Sticker for Cars#Emergency QR Sticker For Car Safety Wrong Parking Tag for Car#Wrong Parking Tag for Bike#Buy QR Code Smart Luggage Tag#Smart QR Code Tag on Luggage#Lost and Found QR Tag for Luggage#Vehicle Safety QR code Sticker#Vehicle Safety QR code Sticker without GPS#Buy Vehicle Emergancy QR Tag#Smart QR Code Sticker for Emergency#Emergency Smart QR Tag and Stickers#QR Code Pet Lost Tag#QR Code Pet ID Tag Without GPS#Buy Digital QR Code Pet ID Tags#Smart QR Code Tag for Pets#Emergency QR Sticker For Pets#Lost & Found Smart QR Labels for Pets#QR Code Smart Sticker for Pets#Buy Smart QR Code Keychain#Keychain with QR Code Tag#Qr code smart keychain online#Buy Lost and Found Digital Tag Online#Smart QR Code Lost & Found Tags for Luggage#Buy Lost and Found QR Code Stickers for Helmet#Emergency Contact Stickers for Car#Emergency Contact Stickers for Bike
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Man keychain technology has really come a long way
#like I just saw a cute dungeon meshi keychain on insta#that was like a little book with hinges#amazing what people come up with these days#they emerge!
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A keychain set designed for women's safety typically includes various tools that can be used in emergency situations to provide a sense of security and protection.
Women's Safety Keychain Set
1. Personal Alarm: A small, lightweight device that emits a loud siren when activated. It’s designed to attract attention and deter potential attackers. The alarm is usually activated by pulling a pin or pressing a button.
2. Pepper Spray: A compact canister containing a chemical compound that irritates the eyes, causing tears, pain, and temporary blindness. It’s an effective self-defense tool to incapacitate an assailant.
3. Whistle: A simple yet effective tool for drawing attention in an emergency. The loud sound can alert others nearby to your distress.
4. Flashlight: A small, high-powered LED flashlight that provides visibility in dark or low-light conditions. Some flashlights may have strobe functions to disorient an attacker.
5. Kubotan: A small, handheld self-defense tool that can be used to deliver painful strikes. It’s often used to target pressure points and can be carried easily on a keychain.
6. Safety Key: A compact tool designed to break glass in case of an emergency, such as being trapped in a car. It often includes a seatbelt cutter for additional safety.
7. GPS Tracker: A tiny device that can be attached to your keychain and linked to your smartphone. It allows loved ones to track your location in real-time for added security.
8. Multi-tool: A versatile tool that includes various functions like a small knife, screwdriver, and bottle opener. It’s useful for everyday tasks and can be a handy addition to the safety set.
Benefits:
Portability: The tools are compact and lightweight, making them easy to carry on a keychain or in a purse.
Readiness: Having these tools readily available can provide peace of mind and quick access in emergency situations.
Versatility: The variety of tools ensures that you have multiple options for different types of emergencies, whether it's self-defense, alerting others, or escaping from a dangerous situation.
Usage Tips:
Familiarize Yourself: Take time to learn how each tool works. Practice using them so you can respond quickly and effectively in an emergency.
Stay Alert: Always be aware of your surroundings and trust your instincts. Use the tools as part of a broader personal safety strategy.
Regular Checks: Ensure that all tools are in working order. Replace batteries in devices like alarms and flashlights regularly.
Conclusion:
A women’s safety keychain set is an invaluable investment for personal security. It empowers women with the tools they need to protect themselves and respond to emergencies confidently.
#Portable Safety Tool#Portable Self Defense#Self Defense Tools#Self Defense Kit#Emergency Keychain#Self Defense Tips#Personal Safety Gear#Women's Self Defense#Keychain Protection#Safety Keychain#Self Defense Gadgets#Keychain Safety Device#Self Defense Accessories#artists on tumblr#spilled ink#trans#art#artists
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Check Out This Fantastic Post Just Published on https://selfdefensegearco.com/personal-protection/guardian-glow-unleashing-the-power-of-personal-safety-with-integrated-led-flashlight/
Guardian Glow: Unleashing the Power of Personal Safety with Integrated LED Flashlight

Step into the realm of enhanced personal safety with the Micro Guard™ Plus Personal Alarm and COB LED Flashlight.Picture this: a sleek and stylish keychain fob, not just a mere accessory, but a guardian in your pocket, available in dazzling gold, silver, and rose gold. Imagine yourself strolling through the evening streets or enjoying a […]
#Emergency personal alarm#LED flashlight keychain#Personal Safety Alarm#Safety device with strobe light
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OFFERING NEW STYLE - YUMMY FOR $40
ALSO CUSTOM KEYCHAINS/CHARMS IN THE STYLE ABOVE FOR $60 THROUGH KO-FI for one character only! Details in this style will be simplified
EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS




Hello I need to reach at the very least 2k before the end of next month so then I can continue living in my house while trying to figure out how to move out so here are all my prices and here's the site with the prices and examples!!
However if you're willing to just donate then here's my gfm that hasn't reach it's goal yet!
Anything is super appreciated so please share if you're able to!
#keychain#charms#sketch commission#art commissions#art commish#art comms open#open commissions#commissions open#commissions#commission#emergency#emergency commissions#emergency commisions open#art#digital art#animatics#custom keychain#custom charms
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#1 fan
bllk boys drabble fluff getting merch of them @shidoglazer
ft : sae , rin , kaiser
| sae itoshi
“saeeee?” you called out your boyfriend’s name, your voice echoing throughout the shared apartment, it doesn’t take long for sae to emerge from his bedroom, head popping out.
“hn?” he walked over to you at the living room, staring at the comedically large shopping bag you had on your lap. you were trying hard to keep your giggles in as you slowly plucked off the tape on the bag. “i assume you had a good shopping trip? though, i’ll praise you for spending less tha-….ah..”
his voice slowly trailed off as you pulled out a large plushie of him, he was in a seagull costume and had that iconic chibi sae face, holding it in both your hands proudly while he looked at it as if it just murdered his whole family. “look! isn’t he cute?? i was at the arcade just now and they let me exchange my tickets for this!” you giggled, now holding the plushie close to your chest.
“��.i wouldn’t say cute. its a monstrosity. i’d never wear a seagull costume, let alone make .. that face. throw it away.” you gasped in offence, covering the plushies ears as if it was a child. “don’t say that about him! he didn’t do anything wrong!”
sae rolled his eyes dramatically, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “what is this, hm? itoshi junior? your replacement for me whenever i’m gone for matches? i’m hurt.” he asked with mock hurt twinged in his voice as you giggled, leaning into his body.
“i should replace you with him completely. cuter and quieter!”
“excuse me?” “you heard me.”
| rin itoshi
“rinnie?” your head perked into his bedroom, he was curled up on his chair as his fingers clacked away on his keyboard, playing a horror game. he let out a hum to acknowledge you before saving his progress and turning off the game, turning his gaming chair towards you, “yeah. what is it?”
a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you stepped into his room, hands behind your back, suspiciously hiding something from him. his eyes narrowed at you as you walked towards him, showcasing a round, fat, chibi rin plush keychain that fit in the palm of your hand as you giggled to yourself. “look! i can hang it on my bag-” “is that supposed to be me?” “uhuh!”
he took the keychain from your hand, analysing it as if it was the greatest masterpiece he’s ever seen. “..where’d you buy this? its unappealing to the eye.” “i saw it at a little street vendor, it was only like what, 3,000 yen?” if you squinted your eyes, you’d be able to see rins feet kicking softly out of happiness, even when his words didn’t match with it.
rin continued staring at it despite basically saying it was ugly, as if he was hesitating to say something. “lukewarm. don’t buy this type of stuff again.” and yet despite that, he didn’t hand it back to you, no. he grabbed the ring of the chain and hung it beside his pc as if it was his greatest achievement.
“aaawweee!! you like it! rin likes fat chibi plushies of hi—” he quickly shut your mouth by standing up out of nowhere and throwing you both on the bed, his hand gripping your jaw softly to kiss you. “you run that mouth a lot huh.” another kiss “buying stupid plushies when the real one is right here.” another kiss “wasting your damn money.” another kiss.
“..maybe i should buy more next time.” “tch, brat.” another kiss. <3
| michael kaiser
“misha!!” you pounced on your boyfriend as soon as he got home from practice, not even have put down his bag yet.
“hello to you too, sweets. what’s the special occasion hm? never seen you so excited to see me before.” he placed down his bag carelessly before both of his hands reached to your inner thighs to grab a hold of you, walking over to the bedroom and placing you down onto the bed.
“i bought something for you when i was at the market today!”
“is that so? show me then.” you tried to hide your evil giggle as you crawled up, heading over to one of the plastic bags on the desk, rummaging through it while kaiser stood there with his arms folded, waiting for you to finish digging through the swarms of newly bought items. after awhile, you pulled out a shirt and proudly showed him, the initial smug expression on his face replaced completely with one of blank eyes and lips falling into a straight line.
“I <3 MICHAEL KAISER” was written on the front, poorly cut pngs of him placed all over on the shirt, and the back of the shirt .. a fan art of kaiser sitting on a throne with over exaggerated jewellery around him while he was holding a big golden sword.
“isn’t it cool?! you should wear it!”
silence. pure silence from him.
“…it’s fun to look at, sure. how about you give it to me, yeah? i’ll analyse it after my shower.” he quickly took the shirt from you and immediately headed to the bathroom, not even giving you a chance to respond as he disappeared from your sight. and for some mysterious reason, ever since that day, the shirts been completely missing. how? kaiser threw it out of the bathroom window, obviously. he didn’t have the heart to say “it’s disgusting, a monstrosity. who would even draw me like that? i know i’m the best, liebe, but they couldve at LEAST made me look better. don’t ever show me this type of shit ever again, burn it.” in front of you!
★ masterlist
visual representations btw LOL



#xuanshcs#blue lock#bllk#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi#sae headcanons#sae x reader#bllk sae#sae x you#itoshi sae#blue lock sae#sae itoshi x reader#blue lock rin itoshi#rin itoshi headcanons#rin itoshi x you#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#blue lock rin#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#bllk michael kaiser#blue lock michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock drabbles#sae itoshi fluff#rin itoshi fluff#michael kaiser fluff#blue lock kaiser#bllk hcs#bllk drabbles
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Polar Opposites | Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: When you joined the team, it was very evident to the others that you and Spencer may not get along the best. You were water and he was oil — but when working on a team, the repelling can be dangerous. Themes & Warnings: Ummm violence, hurt/comfort with Reid!, enemies to lovers
You were raised in New York. Alone. No siblings or mother.
Learning independence was quick for you. By the time you were eight, you were walking yourself to school, a keychain with the apartment key and a bottle of pepper spray dangling from it. You were tough, bull-headed, but not completely absent of warmth.
Your father was a good man. A strong one. He was on the NYPD, a conductor of justice, yet a fair one. You idolized him, even when he came home with blood on his knuckles and exhaustion in his bones. You learned early that justice wasn't always clean, and rarely kind.
You quickly learned from him.
When you were old enough, he put you into self defense classes. It wasn't much of a surprise to him that you immediately excelled.
He watched proudly as you took down grown men twice your size in the ring, never once hesitating. “You fight like your mother,” he told you once. You didn’t remember her, not really, but something about the way he said it made your chest swell.
You lived by his rules. Protect others. Never back down. Trust your gut, even when it got you in trouble.
By the time you were a teenager, you were patrolling with a police scanner on in the background of your homework, studying both algebra and 10-codes. While other girls wore lip gloss and whispered about boys, you were memorizing the NY penal code and learning how to hold a Glock.
As soon as you could, you joined your father on the force. Not quite where he was. He was pretty far up. But you made him proud, which is all you wanted.
Every commendation, every collar, every time you kept your cool when things went sideways — he’d clap a firm hand on your shoulder and say, “That’s my girl.” And that was enough. It had always been enough.
Until it wasn’t.
The night he didn’t come home changed everything.
You were the one who got the call. Not the captain. Not some rookie liaison. You. Because you were his emergency contact. Because they knew you’d want to hear it straight, from the mouth of someone who cared.
Officer down. Ambush. Three men. Two with priors, one on a vendetta. He died fighting, they said. Died protecting his partner.
You didn’t cry.
You didn’t speak for almost twenty-four hours.
Instead, you scrubbed his blood out of his badge chain, boxed up his medals, and sat for hours in his worn recliner with your service pistol in your lap, staring into nothing.
The grief didn’t crush you. It carved you.
By the time you left the NYPD, you weren’t the same person. And maybe that was the point. You needed something new. Somewhere that didn’t hold his shadow in every alley, every precinct, every call sign on the radio.
The BAU wasn’t your first choice. Behavioral analysis wasn’t your strength. You didn’t have three PhDs or a mind built for chess moves and statistics. But they recruited you anyway. Hotch said your field instincts were unmatched, that you had a gut that couldn't be taught.
You were strong. Your suffering had hardened you into a diamond. But you did have a flaw. Sometimes, you rushed into things without strategy, relying on strength and impulse. You were more physically lead than others on the team, opting for the take-down rather than the talk-down.
This was what made you so different from the team's boy genius, Spencer Reid.
He wasn't the softest anymore himself. He was hardened by his abduction by Tobias Hankel, his drug addiction, his prison time, the loss of his first lover. But he didn't let it change him completely. He was still warm, like he'd been before. Still sweet. And he still did his job the same; in the same calculating, analyzing Reid way. He was more logic based than aggression based.
And that’s where you clashed.
Where you were storm and instinct, Spencer was method and measure. He needed answers before action. You needed action before the body count climbed. He quoted psychological journals; you trusted a gut that had never failed you. It was oil and water from the very beginning.
The team noticed it immediately — the sharp way you challenged his statistics, the way his mouth drew tight every time you went off-book, the way both of you refused to yield. Rossi called it "professional tension." Morgan called it "foreplay." Hotch just warned you both not to let it interfere in the field.
Of course, it did anyway.
It had been a difficult case.
A serial killer, targeting women, as was typical. It was a sensitive situation, requiring delicate action and careful steps.
The investigation went fine — smooth actually. It was easy enough to profile and find the man, but the hostage situation needed to be handled much softer.
He was holding a young woman in a cage, down below his house in a bunker. You, Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan were sent to do the confrontation.
The four of you approached the property quietly. The woods surrounding the cabin were thick and silent, the late afternoon sun bleeding orange through the trees. Reid had his tablet out, blueprints of the house and rough sketches of the underground bunker on display. You barely glanced at it.
“We can’t spook him,” Prentiss said, voice low. “If he thinks he’s cornered—”
“He might kill her,” Reid finished grimly. “He’s already escalated twice. He’s unpredictable under pressure.”
That was Spencer’s way — anticipate the worst, measure every variable. Your jaw clenched.
“Then we don’t give him time to react,” you said, cocking your weapon. “He’s not expecting a full team yet. We move fast, controlled. Get in, get her out.”
Spencer’s head shot up. “No. We stick to the protocol. We make contact, distract him, and—”
“There is no protocol for a man holding a girl in a fucking cage, Reid.”
Your voice was sharper than it needed to be, but you didn’t care. The thought of that girl locked up like an animal made your skin crawl. Every second wasted was another scar, another trauma she’d carry forever.
“Exactly. Which is why we don’t risk charging in blind,” he snapped back, stepping in front of you. “You go in there guns blazing and he could slit her throat before you even get your second step down that ladder.”
Morgan’s hand landed on your shoulder, a warning. “Both of you — not the time.”
But you weren’t done.
“Then what? We just talk to him? Offer him therapy? Hope he suddenly sees the light?”
Reid’s eyes blazed. “No. But we don’t rush in and make it worse. You want to save her? Then don’t be the reason she dies.”
It hit harder than you expected. Maybe because deep down, you knew he was right. Maybe because you hated being wrong in front of him.
The plan went Spencer’s way. At first.
You reached them. The man was sweaty, eyes wild. The girl moaned quietly in front of him, wrestling around in the heavy chains she was bound by.
Reid and Prentiss attempted a talk-down.
The unsub paced behind the girl like a panicked animal, holding a long hunting knife inches from her throat. His eyes flicked between Prentiss and Reid, twitchy and erratic, the delusion already thick in the air.
“I didn’t hurt her!” he barked. “I fed her, didn’t I?! She’s mine now — I chose her!”
You could practically feel the tension radiating off Spencer. He stood just a step in front of Prentiss, hands raised, calm as ever — but you knew him well enough to see the strain in his jaw, the slight tremble in his fingers.
“You’re not in trouble,” Spencer said gently, voice even. “You’ve been through a lot. No one wants to hurt you, we just want to help her. Let her go. We can talk, just you and me.”
The unsub twitched. “She loves me,” he muttered, jabbing the blade toward the girl’s collarbone. She whimpered again, and your own hand inched toward your holster.
“Reid,” you said quietly. A warning.
But he held up one hand. Not yet.
“You’re right,” he said to the unsub. “You did choose her. You saw something in her. That’s important. That means you care about her, right?”
The man’s breathing hitched — confused. Hopeful.
Then it happened.
She whimpered again — too loud. Too broken. Something in her tone must have snapped the illusion in his head. Because suddenly he screamed, pulled her tighter, and raised the knife.
You moved before anyone else could.
Gun drawn, aim steady, you crossed the space in two steps and tackled him. Your shoulder collided with his ribs, knocking him clean off the girl. You wrestled the knife from his hand and had him on the ground in seconds, arm wrenched behind his back.
You barely heard the girl sobbing as Prentiss rushed to her side. Barely heard Morgan’s footsteps pounding down the stairs. All you could hear was the pounding of your own pulse.
“God damn it,” Reid muttered from behind you. Not angry. Not even frustrated.
Worried.
The rest was a blur.
Back at the precinct, the girl had been taken to the hospital. The unsub was in custody. Everyone was safe.
But Spencer didn’t say a word to you until you were alone.
The motel hallway was dim and quiet, carpet patterned with decades of wear. You turned when you heard his door click shut behind him.
“You weren’t supposed to go in,” he said. Quiet. Low.
You crossed your arms. “And if I hadn’t, she might be dead.”
“She might be,” he agreed. “Or you might be. We all might've been. You can’t keep putting yourself in the line like that without thinking. You don’t get to be the only one who carries the risk. Not to mention what risk it puts on the other teammates.”
You blinked. Something about the way he said it — like you'd selfishly put everyone in danger.
Your eyes narrowed.
"How come you're always shitting on my busts, Reid? You ever think that one of these times, you might wait too long and get someone killed?"
He swallowed, his face tightening.
"Don't turn this around on me. You continuously stray from protocol like you're above the rest of us. If you just followed directions, I wouldn't have to complain."
You felt the flare of heat in your chest — insult, frustration, maybe even guilt. But underneath all of it, something deeper: hurt.
"Above the rest of you?" you repeated, voice low. Dangerous. "Is that really what you think of me?"
Reid held your stare, but there was a flicker of regret in his eyes now. He hadn’t meant to cut that deep. Or maybe he had. Maybe it had built up between you for so long, he hadn’t realized the blade was that sharp.
“I think you act like you don’t need us,” he said. “Like you don’t trust anyone but yourself. And in this job, that’s not just frustrating, it’s fatal.”
You laughed once, dryly. “Well, maybe I don’t trust anyone else. Maybe I learned a long time ago that trust doesn’t keep you alive.”
That landed. His expression cracked. Because if there was one thing Spencer Reid understood, it was the cost of trusting the wrong people. Or worse, not trusting the right ones until it was too late.
"You need to ease up. Trusting someone besides yourself might keep you alive one day," He hissed, leaning into your face. "You act like a stubborn, impulsive fool."
You scoffed, a snide smirk curling onto your face.
"That's better than constant fear and anxiety. I'd rather be too quick than too slow, Reid," your cold voice biting into him. "You're so busy tucking back into your turtle shell that you don't realize how much time you waste being afraid."
His eyes darkened, a flicker of something fierce igniting behind the calm intellect you knew so well.
“Being cautious doesn’t mean I’m afraid,” he snapped back, voice low but sharp. “It means I’m trying to think. Something you never do until after the damage is done.”
You stepped closer, your breath mingling with his in the tight hallway. “Yeah, well maybe it’s better to act first and think later than to be paralyzed by what-ifs. At least I move.”
You stood face to face, a silent snarl shared between the two of you. Spencer took another breath to snap back, but you were interrupted.
"Guys. Enough. The jet is about to take off." Prentiss said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged her off, slinging your bag over it instead.
"It's cool. I was done being questioned about my successful take-down anyways." You muttered, walking away.
Spencer watched you go, the frustration still simmering beneath his calm exterior. His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him. He wanted to say more; to tell you that beneath his caution was a desperate hope you’d be safe, that he cared more than he knew how to show.
But for now, he let the silence stretch, knowing this was just one battle in a longer war between you. And maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bridge the gap, if only you’d both lower your guards.
The jet ride was tense. You didn't even look at Spencer, opting to pretend he wasn't there. He couldn't help but glance at you, the brooding look always on your face no different than usual. He sighed, returning to his book.
Back at the office, you shoved your go-bag back into your locker. The photo of your father glinted at you, stuck to the back of the door. You knew what he would've said.
You traced the edges of the photo with a tired finger, the worn image of your father — a man who’d always been your anchor in chaos — reminding you of the rules he drilled into you:
"Protect others."
"Never back down."
"Trust your gut."
"I'm so proud of you, kid."
You swallowed the lump rising in your throat, the weight of those words settling deep inside you. You’d carried his lessons like armor all these years — tough, unyielding, sometimes too sharp to wield without cutting yourself.
You stared at his image for a few more seconds, before turning away.
You jumped. Morgan, standing behind you.
"Jesus." You said, taking a deep breath. "Don't sneak up on me like that, dude."
Morgan chuckled, his usual easy grin softening the tension in the room. “Yeah, well, somebody’s gotta keep you on your toes.”
He glanced at the photo taped inside your locker. “Your old man sounds like a hell of a guy.”
You nodded, voice quieter now. “He was. Still is… in a way.”
Morgan leaned against the lockers, folding his arms. “You know, you don’t always have to carry all that weight alone. Not here. Not with us.”
You met his eyes, the sincerity there catching you off guard. For a moment, the walls you’d built felt a little less necessary.
"... Thank you."
Morgan nodded, leaning against the lockers.
"I heard you and Reid had a little spat in the hotel earlier."
You rolled your eyes, grumbling. Of course, Prentiss would've squealed.
Morgan’s grin widened, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, I heard. Something about Spencer getting a little too in your space?”
You sighed, crossing your arms. “He’s got a knack for pushing buttons. Doesn’t know when to quit.”
Morgan shook his head, chuckling low. “That guy’s all brain and nerves. Sometimes he forgets there’s a person behind all that genius.”
You glanced away, feeling a mix of irritation and something softer beneath it. “I get it, but I’m not exactly easy to handle either.”
He leaned against the locker beside yours, eyes steady. “Look, I get it. You did what you had to do back there. You saved that girl.”
Your jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know that?”
Morgan shook his head. “No, I’m saying I see it. You’re a damn good agent. One of the best. But sometimes being the best means knowing when to slow down.”
You scoffed, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Slowing down gets people killed.”
Morgan didn’t flinch. “It’s not about slowing down all the time. It’s about picking your moments. You got guts, no doubt. But guts without control? That’s a problem.”
You finally met his gaze, raw and honest. “So what am I supposed to do, Morgan? Wait around for the bad guy to slit her throat? Let the clock run out?”
He studied you for a beat, then responded slowly. “No. But you gotta trust the team. Not just yourself. We got your six. We all do. Even Reid. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
You swallowed hard. The weight of his words settled in your chest. It was easier said than done. You were used to standing on your own — had been for as long as you could remember.
Morgan clapped a hand on your shoulder, solid and reassuring. “Your dad taught you to protect others, right?”
Your eyes flickered to the photo taped inside your locker, the man who was everything steady in your world.
Morgan smiled softly. “Yeah. And that means sometimes you gotta step back, watch the angles, think a few moves ahead. That’s how you protect the team and yourself.”
The tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. You weren’t used to advice that didn’t come with judgment, but this was different. It was real.
Morgan gave you a wink. “You’re a hell of a cop. Don’t forget, sometimes the smartest move is patience. Not just power.”
You nodded, the edges of your defenses softening just enough for a flicker of respect. “Thanks, Morgan. I’ll try.”
“Try?” He grinned. “No try. You’ll do it.”
You smirked back. “Yeah? You confident in me?”
“Hell yeah. Just gotta let the team catch up sometimes. And don't forget,” he said, nudging your shoulder. "We could all learn some things from you too. Even Reid, when he decides to get his head out of his ass."
You snickered, rolling your eyes and turning back to your locker, shutting it.
“Thanks for the reality check.”
“Anytime,” he said, before turning and walking away, leaving you with something you didn’t realize you needed — a little hope.
The next case came quickly. You almost weren't ready for it.
Your headphones blared into your ears as you trained in the sparring room, sweating as you bounced around a punching bag. Your gloves squeaked with every moment you made, punching into the bag with preciseness and toughness.
Your phone rang.
You yanked a glove off with your teeth and fumbled for your phone, the sweat on your fingers making it harder to swipe. The name on the screen — Hotch — made your stomach tighten. You were still riding the edge of your last conversation with Morgan, and now, here came another case.
“Yeah?” you answered, a little breathless.
Hotch’s voice was calm, clipped. “Briefing room. Twenty minutes.”
You wiped your brow with the back of your forearm. “Copy that.”
He hung up without another word.
You stood there for a beat, the bass of your music still thumping in one ear. The punching bag rocked gently beside you, evidence of your focused aggression. But the tension in your shoulders hadn’t eased. If anything, it pulled tighter.
Another case. Another town. Another family ruined. You loved this job but sometimes, it felt like it never let you breathe.
With a grunt, you unwrapped your gloves, tossing them in your gym bag. As you pulled your hoodie over your damp sports bra and headed for the showers, Morgan’s words echoed back in your head:
“Sometimes the smartest move is patience. Not just power.”
You smirked faintly to yourself, voice muttering under your breath, “Yeah, well... I hope patience works on serial killers too.”
You had no idea what you were walking into, but you knew this much: you'd face it head-on.
Just like always.
You pulled your work clothes on quickly and headed for the bullpen, tossing your hair into a ponytail.
The rest of the team was already there, relieved to see you walk in.
"Sorry. I was training." You said quietly, joining them at the table.
Hotch gave you a nod — his version of “no problem.” Reid glanced up from the file in his hands, his eyes catching yours for a moment before flicking back down. You weren’t sure what that look meant, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.
“Victim number three was found this morning,” Hotch began, passing a photo across the table. “Female, early thirties. Same MO. Ligature marks, posed postmortem, and a red ribbon tied around the wrist.”
You leaned forward, studying the image. “Same as the others. No signs of forced entry?”
JJ shook her head. “Nothing. It’s like they let the killer in willingly.”
You crossed your arms, thoughts already sharpening like blades. “So he’s charming, disarming. Makes them feel safe… until he doesn’t.”
Morgan pointed at the map. “All victims lived alone, all in a five-mile radius. He’s hunting in a comfort zone.”
Spencer cleared his throat, hesitant but determined. “Geographical profiling supports that. He’s probably familiar with the area -- might even live or work nearby.”
You glanced at him again, this time holding the look for a second longer. “Then we start knocking on doors.”
Prentiss gave a wry smile. “I like it when you get fired up.”
You shrugged, grabbing a file. “Better than sitting on our hands.”
Hotch raised a brow. “Let’s keep it focused. Morgan, you and (Y/N) check in with local businesses. Reid, JJ, and Prentiss, canvass the neighborhood. I’ll coordinate with local PD.”
You nodded.
"I know that PD pretty well. My dad and I worked with them for a couple of years. I'll pitch in with the communications."
Hotch gave a curt nod, clearly appreciating the initiative. “Good. Familiarity could speed things up. Just make sure they loop everything back to me.”
You gave him a short, respectful salute. “You got it, boss.”
Morgan shot you a quick grin as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “You sure you’re not trying to take Hotch’s job?”
You smirked. “Please. I’d make a terrible brooding authority figure.”
Hotch didn’t even look up from the map he was marking. “I’m standing right here.”
You and Morgan exchanged a glance, both biting back laughter.
As the team filed out, Reid hesitated at the edge of the room. He glanced at you, like he wanted to say something, but then just gave a slight nod and walked away with JJ and Prentiss.
Your eyes lingered on his back for a second before you turned and fell into step beside Morgan.
“So,” he said as you headed for the SUV, “you and local PD go way back?”
You nodded. “Yeah. My dad and I used to consult on cases when I was younger. He was training me even before I joined the Bureau. Some of those officers were practically family for a while.”
Morgan nodded slowly, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a thoughtful smile. “That explains a lot.”
“What does?”
“You move like someone who’s been doing this their whole life. It’s in your blood.”
You paused at the passenger door, his words landing heavier than he probably intended.
“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”
Morgan didn’t push. He just clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Then let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”
You gave him a small smile. “Hell yeah.”
You slid into the seat, heart steadier than it had been in days. Maybe the next few hours would be hell. Maybe this case would crack something raw in you. But with Morgan’s support at your side and your father’s instincts still pulsing through your veins, you weren’t going in blind.
You were ready to hunt.
No sooner had you and Morgan hit the pavement than the scent of tension in the air thickened, like something dark had just passed through and left its mark. The PD station felt different now than it did when you were younger. Familiar faces looked more worn, more guarded.
“Agent (L/N),” one of the lieutenants greeted you with a surprised smile. “Heard you were coming in. Damn, you look more and more like your old man every time I see you.”
You gave him a short nod, your voice quiet. “Thanks, Lieutenant. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
Morgan stood back slightly, letting you take the lead. He watched as you moved through the room with purpose; calm, steady, authoritative in your own way. You weren’t trying to be your father, but his legacy lingered around you like armor.
“We’ve already pulled security cam footage from nearby businesses,” the lieutenant explained. “We can have it queued up for you in five.”
“Perfect. Let’s get started.”
Morgan leaned over to you as they set things up in the back room. “You’ve got them listening to you like you’re already in charge.”
You gave a tired shrug. “My dad never tolerated anyone doing half a job. I guess that stuck.”
He studied your face for a moment — sharp, focused, a little worn around the eyes. Then he said, “You know, you don’t always have to be the one holding it all together.”
You glanced at him, surprised.
“You said that already,” you reminded him.
He shrugged. “You didn’t listen the first time.”
You laughed under your breath, but your eyes softened. “I’m listening now.”
Before either of you could say more, an officer called you over. “You’re gonna want to see this.”
The footage was grainy but clear enough: a figure pacing outside a bakery at midnight. Twitchy. Darting glances. Then dragging something — someone — down an alley.
Morgan muttered under his breath. “Looks like our guy.”
Your expression shifted instantly. Calm became alert. You pointed to the timestamp. “That’s two hours before the last body was found. He was still escalating.”
The lieutenant nodded grimly. “He’s getting bolder.”
Morgan stepped beside you, already scanning the angle, escape routes, signage. “What do you want to do?”
You took a breath, already forming a plan.
“We start there,” you said, pointing to the alley. “We follow the trail. And this time, we end it before he escalates again.”
Morgan gave a sharp nod. “Now that’s the kind of leadership I can get behind.”
You smirked faintly. “Don’t get used to it.”
He grinned back. “Too late.”
You quickly phoned the rest of the team, getting them in on it. It was decided.
You'd be bait — the youngest on the team. The prettiest, Prentiss had claimed. But it would take something you weren't exactly versed in.
Patience. Calculation. Thought before decision.
You, of course, had too look like less than an agent. That night, you had to get prepared, dressing down from your usual slacks and dress shirt and opting for a more.. casual.. look.
Garcia, JJ, and Prentiss just couldn't wait to get their hands on you. It was a once in a life time opportunity.
You barely made it into the hotel room before the ambush.
“There she is!” Prentiss announced, arms crossed with a smug grin. JJ was already holding up two hangers, each with an outfit. Garcia was seated cross-legged on the bed with a massive makeup bag splayed open in front of her like a battlefield.
You blinked. “Did you guys.. Were you waiting for me?”
JJ smirked. “Garcia brought supplies.”
Garcia didn’t even look up. “Sweet cheeks, I have been dreaming of this day since you joined the team. And now… finally…” She lifted a compact like a weapon forged in heaven. “The day has come.”
“This isn’t a makeover montage,” you muttered.
“Oh, but it is,” Prentiss said, grabbing your wrist and tugging you into the middle of the room. “You’re going undercover as vulnerable, off-duty eye candy. We’re making sure you sell it.”
“Guys,” you sighed. “This isn’t Clueless. I’m bait for a serial killer, not a Tinder date.”
“Exactly,” JJ said, tossing a pair of stockings onto the bed. “So you need to look like someone who doesn’t know she’s being watched. Not like someone who could break someone’s nose with two fingers.”
The scene was a bar. Wasting some time inside of it, sipping on a few prop drinks all alone, before stumbling out into the alley where he'd most likely take his chances on you.
You had to look the part. The mysterious, lonely temptress who would go quietly if grabbed.
You were forced into a short, red dress, one that hugged your curves and showed off the length of your smooth legs. Your hair was curled, natural makeup on your already pretty face.
You were gorgeous. Not that you weren't usually. But this was much different than your slick-back ponytail and business only outfit, a gun hanging from your holster.
Garcia let out a dramatic gasp when you stepped out of the bathroom.
“Oh. My. God.” she breathed, eyes widening. “You’re not just bait, you're irresistible temptation. Marry me.”
Prentiss gave a low whistle. “Remind me to never stand next to you in public again.”
JJ smirked. “He won’t stand a chance. Poor bastard.”
You tugged at the hem of the red dress, fidgeting. It was shorter than anything you usually wore. Hell, it was shorter than anything Garcia usually wore. “I feel like a walking target.”
“That’s the point,” Prentiss said, coming up behind you to fix a loose curl. “But don’t forget. You’re still the most dangerous one in the room.”
Garcia handed you a tiny clutch with your wire and phone inside. “And just in case he gets any ideas before the alley, Reid and Morgan will be watching from the bar. Hotch and I are set up in the surveillance van. You’re never alone.”
You looked at yourself in the mirror again. It was surreal, like staring at a version of yourself that only existed in smoke and mirrors. A version soft enough to lure in a killer. A version smart enough to trap him.
You took a breath. Deep. Steady.
“I can do this,” you muttered.
“You will do this,” JJ corrected firmly, her voice resolute. “And when you bring this guy down, I want my red dress back.”
You laughed softly, the nerves settling into something colder, more useful. “You got it.”
As the three women saw you off, Prentiss stopped you with a hand on your arm. “Hey. You’re more than bait. You’re the one drawing him out. That makes you the one in control.”
You stepped outside, meeting Morgan and Reid at the undercover vehicle, a sleek black SUV. They stood talking by the passenger's door, only noticing you approaching when you got close.
Morgan was the first to look up; and his reaction was immediate.
His brows rose, a low whistle slipping out as he took in your appearance. “Damn. Remind me what we’re trying to catch again? Because I think you just stunned me.”
Reid, less composed, blinked rapidly. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Y-You, uh, wow. You look…” His brain clearly short-circuited.
You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Careful, boys. I’m armed.”
Morgan laughed, clapping Reid on the back as if to snap him out of his stupor. “You good, pretty boy? Need a second to reboot?”
Reid cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets and very intentionally looking at the SUV instead of you. “I’m fine. Let's move out.”
Without another word, Reid hopped into the car, leaving you and Derek in silence. You rolled your eyes as Derek opened the door to let you get in.
Morgan held the door open with a crooked grin. “You know, I’ve seen you break a man’s nose with the butt of your Glock… but somehow, this might be the most dangerous I’ve ever seen you.”
You scoffed, climbing into the SUV. “Save it for Garcia.”
In a few short minutes, you were at your destination. You got out, securing the wire into a hidden place as Reid and Morgan looked around. You tossed your curls behind your shoulder and cleared your throat.
"Alright. In the bar for fifteen minutes, twenty at most. If he approaches you, play coy. If he doesn't, we still have a chance to lure him in the back alley," Morgan explained, securing his own wire and tucking his gun. "We're more likely to see him out there. He's struck in that area quite a few times."
You nodded.
"Don't be afraid. We'll be right there with you, just at a distance. If you're ever too uncomfortable to stand it, call for us."
You made a gesture of agreement to Morgan before finally glancing at Reid, who cleared his throat.
"Just.. Don't jump the gun." He said. He somewhat failed to keep the entitlement in his voice. You wondered what was plaguing him, but nonetheless, you ignored it, rolling your eyes.
"I got it, Reid. Don't worry. Your teachings will be on my psyche the whole time."
Reid’s jaw ticked slightly, clearly unsatisfied with your response but unwilling to push further — at least not in front of Morgan.
Morgan, on the other hand, was watching the two of you like he was sitting court-side. “Alright, kids,” he said, breaking the tension with a raised brow. “Let’s not make this a pissing contest. We’ve got a predator to catch, not egos to babysit.”
You smirked, giving Morgan a thumbs up as you reached for the bar door. But before you could step out, Reid finally spoke again, softer this time, less sharp.
“Just… be careful. Please.”
You paused, turning slightly to look at him. There it was. Underneath all the attitude and irritation — the worry. The fear. The unspoken something that had been simmering between you both since that stupid hotel argument.
You gave a nod. “I will.”
And then you stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement, shoulders square, mask slipping into place.
You weren’t the agent now. You were the bait.
For a while, it was dead.
You sat at the bar, sipping on a "vodka soda," looking around. You tried your best to keep your emotions off from your face, opting for a more bored look. Your legs were crossed. People filtered in, people filtered out. The music changed. Drinks were poured, people surrounded you. A few approached, but not the one you needed.
You checked the time subtly, tilting your wrist just enough to catch the glint of the watch Garcia had modified for comms. Seventeen minutes. A little longer than planned, but not enough to call it yet. You could feel their eyes on you, Morgan’s and Reid’s from their respective vantage points, watching every shift of your posture like hawks.
The bartop was sticky, the lighting dim, casting sultry shadows that you knew looked calculated from afar. You took another slow sip, letting your eyes drift across the room again. A man at the end of the bar caught your gaze, held it for a beat too long.
But he turned away. Not him.
Your fingers tapped lightly against your glass, nails clicking in a slow rhythm.
Patience. Not just power.
You breathed out through your nose, subtle and quiet. You could play this game.
Just when your boredom began to feel a little too real, movement in your periphery made your eyes flick. A man near the jukebox — tall, late 30s, scruffy beard, not quite drunk but deliberately slow in his movements. Alone. Observing. Not playing music.
He looked at you.
You tilted your head slightly, uncrossing and recrossing your legs. Deliberate. Casual. Vulnerable.
He didn’t move.
But now you knew.
That was him.
And he was watching.
You cleared your throat, turning away and looking disinterested, until you felt his presence get closer and closer. Then, he was right beside you.
"Out here all alone?"
You didn’t look at him right away. You let the question hang for a beat, took a slow sip of your drink, kept your eyes ahead like someone unsure whether to entertain the voice or pretend they hadn’t heard it.
Then you turned, just a little. Just enough for your lashes to lift slowly, eyes finding his. Soft. Unassuming.
You gave a half-smile. “Depends who’s asking.”
He chuckled lowly, like he’d practiced it. Like he wanted it to sound charming but didn’t quite have the tone right. “Just someone who hates to see a pretty girl looking so bored.”
You glanced around the room lazily, then back at him. “Well. Not exactly a thrilling place to be alone.”
His eyes scanned you too thoroughly. It made your skin crawl, but you didn’t flinch.
He leaned on the bar beside you. “Maybe I could change that.”
You shifted, letting your knee graze his thigh — accidentally, on purpose. “Maybe you could.”
From the comms in your ear, you could barely catch Morgan’s low voice: “He’s on her. Stay ready.”
You gave the stranger one last smile before looking down into your glass. “Buy me a refill?”
He motioned to the bartender. “Vodka soda, right?”
You nodded. “Good memory.”
He grinned, and that time it reached his eyes. Just a flash. Something darker.
Bingo.
Your heart kicked up. But your face never betrayed it. You leaned in, just slightly, pretending to laugh at something he hadn’t said.
You held a conversation easily, as if you'd been doing this forever. You barely nursed your drink, immersing yourself into fooling him more than anything else. You crossed your fingers.
And soon, it came. The question you needed.
"You wanna get out of here?" He asked gruffly, a hand coming up to stroke your exposed collar bone. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to snap his arm, slam him to the floor and cuff him immediately.
But you thought about what Spencer had said.
Contemplation. Patience. The art of being cautious. It was just as useful as the fire you usually lit onto anyone you apprehended.
You took a slow breath through your nose, keeping your smile soft, a little shy. You let your eyes flick down, like you were considering it. Like you hadn’t just felt bile rise in your throat at the weight of his hand.
This was the moment. The danger curled just beneath your skin, thrumming like a second pulse.
“Yeah,” you said, voice a little breathier, like nerves. “I could use some air.”
He smiled — victory, hunger, maybe both — and slid off his stool, his hand brushing down your arm as if he had the right.
Morgan’s voice was calm but firm in your earpiece. “She’s moving. Everyone hold position. Reid, keep visual.”
You followed him toward the door, a little slower than necessary, stumbling just enough to play into it. “Sorry,” you muttered with a nervous laugh. “Maybe I had one too many.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, holding the door open. “I’ll take care of you.”
The night hit you like a slap of reality — cold, quiet, real. Your heels clicked against pavement as he guided you down the sidewalk, toward the alley behind the bar.
Your breath hitched. Not from fear. From instinct. The part of you that was still an agent. Still ready to fight, to break him, to stop this before he could touch another woman.
But you stayed in character. You stayed the part.
“Reid,” Morgan’s voice came again. “Do you have eyes?”
There was a long beat before Spencer replied, voice low, strained. “Yes. He’s guiding her down the alley. Don’t move yet.”
You felt it in his voice. You'd felt it since your argument. The tension. The fear. The anticipation. There was something different about the way Reid talked to you, talked about you, ever since your moment in the hotel.
You turned to the man, letting yourself wobble just enough, brushing against him like you needed balance. His hand found your waist too easily.
“You okay?” he asked.
You gave him a soft laugh. “Yeah. Just… a little dizzy.”
“Don’t worry.” His grip tightened. “I’ve got you.”
And then, just like that, he started to lead you into the dark.
Any second now.
Then, moments later, his grip on you became stronger. More direct. Less friendly.
"What are you—"
Without another word, you were slammed up against the brick, his dirty hands all over you. Frantically searching for something. Pain echoed through your body as he continued ruffling your clothes, pulling at your hair.
You frowned, struggling.
"Please, don't—"
"Shut up, bitch! I know you're a cop." He snapped, jerking you slightly.
Your jaw dropped. You felt as though you had cold water thrown over you, dripping down your spine into your heels.
"But I'm not." You attempted meekly.
Cautious. Don't fight yet. Contemplate your choices.
He snickered snidely.
"Officer L/n. I know your father, sweetheart. Or knew him," He said, his clammy breath fanning into your face. "He got my friends put away for life. And then there you were, following right in his footsteps."
He dragged you away from the brick wall, grabbing you by your face. A knife glinted in his other hand.
The cold edge of the blade caught the faint glow of the alley light, flickering like a warning. Your breath caught in your throat. Your hands were still raised — not in surrender, but in precision. Timing.
"Where's the fuckin' wire? Tell me or I'm slitting your throat and dropping you right here."
You swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady despite the pounding in your chest. “I don’t have a wire on me.”
His eyes flashed with suspicion, narrowing dangerously. “Bullshit.”
"Please.." You muttered.
Wait. Wait. Wait.
"Where. Is. The. Wire?!" He snapped, pressing the knife into you.
You froze for a heartbeat as the knife pressed sharper against your skin, a searing line of cold fire that threatened to break through your calm. Your breath hitched but you forced it back down, steady and slow, every nerve screaming for you to act.
“Wait,” you whispered, eyes locking with his — steady, unflinching. “You want the wire? I'll give it to you. I'm begging you not to do this.”
His grip tightened, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, just a flash. Then, the knife pressed harder, enough to nick you, enough to cause a drop of blood to drizzle down. You hissed, tears collecting in your eyes.
Before the knife could press deeper, Reid sprang forward in a sudden burst of strength and precision — the kind of controlled force you usually wielded yourself.
He grabbed the man’s wrist, wrenching the knife away in one smooth motion. The blade clattered to the ground.
Without hesitation, Reid twisted the man’s arm behind his back and slammed him face-first against the brick wall with a sharp grunt.
The attacker struggled, but Reid’s grip was ironclad. He never did take-downs. He never felt like it was time. He valued a talk-down, a chance for the Unsub to see the light without an altercation. But something had snapped.
Reid’s breathing was heavier, eyes sharp and fierce — something you’d never seen in him before. The usual hesitation and quiet intellect gave way to raw, unyielding force. It was like watching a different side of him come alive, the side you’d been expecting all along but had never truly witnessed until now. The others had claimed to see it since he'd come home from prison, but it had never been revealed to you.
He hissed quietly, “Don’t move.”
You slumped against the wall, breathing heavily with a hand clutched to your neck. Blood flowed steadily, but not at a dangerous rate. Just enough to need a med team, but not enough to be scared. You stared up at the sky, frowning.
Morgan and Hotch came after, taking the Unsub from Reid, who was pressing him harder and harder against the wall every second as if he'd personally offended him with his existence.
Hotch immediately stepped in, his voice calm but authoritative. “Easy, Reid. Let him breathe.”
Morgan was already pulling out a medical kit, kneeling beside you quickly. “You good? That cut’s nasty, we can’t patch it up on-site.”
You gave a stiff nod, biting back the sting. “I’m fine. Just… keep him away.”
Reid’s jaw clenched, but he finally loosened his grip, stepping back reluctantly as the cuffs clicked shut around the Unsub’s wrists.
Your eyes met his, a quiet understanding passing between you both— raw tension still lingering, but also something deeper. You’d both taken a page from each other’s book tonight: your strength and resolve, his patience and calculated caution.
Morgan glanced at the three of you, breaking the moment with a grin. “Alright, bait and backup — that’s how we bring down monsters."
You rolled your eyes as you pressed the gauze to the side of your neck. "All in a day's work."
Morgan hummed.
"You need a hospital. I can drive—"
"I can do it." Reid interrupted quietly, looking at you more than he was Morgan.
You cleared your throat, nodding.
Reid’s eyes softened just a fraction as he reached out, carefully taking your hand to steady you. “Let’s get you patched up properly.”
Morgan gave you both a teasing smirk, but wisely kept his distance as Reid helped you into the SUV.
The ride was silent. The quick treatment in the hospital was silent, too. You allowed them to clean and stitch you up, flinching every few moments, before your eyes met Reid's again.
There was something different. There was no irritation or arrogance in his brown eyes like what he normally directed towards you. It was only softness. Just simply watching you, like it was a normal habit of his that he could do all day. Thick with tension. Words unsaid.
You couldn't lie. It made you blush. You looked away.
The conversation didn't ensue until the ride back to the hotel.
The engine hummed low as the SUV slipped down the dark road, headlights casting long, sweeping shadows across the pavement. Reid drove slower than usual: cautious, thoughtful. His fingers gripped the wheel with a quiet intensity, knuckles pale.
You sat beside him, your body angled slightly toward the window, but your eyes drifted, again and again, to his face. To the way his jaw tensed and relaxed like he was chewing on words. Like he couldn’t hold them in much longer.
He broke the silence.
"You did perfectly." He said quietly.
Your eyes flicked to him, surprised by the softness in his tone.
“Didn’t feel perfect,” you muttered, fingers brushing the gauze at your neck. “I let him get too close.”
“That was the point,” Reid said, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the road. “You had him completely. You waited. You didn’t react too soon. That’s what saved your life.”
You gave a small, dry laugh. “I thought I’d be the one snapping his wrist and pressing his face into the wall. Guess we traded roles.”
Reid’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, something more fragile. “You’ve always been better at brute force. I just never thought I’d actually need to use it.”
You leaned back in your seat, watching him. “So what changed?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just kept driving, eyes steady, lips parted slightly like the words were there, just hesitant to form.
Finally, he spoke, voice barely audible. “The second I saw him touch you, I didn’t think. I didn’t weigh the risk or the outcomes. I just… moved.”
Your throat tightened. “Why?”
He inhaled slowly. “Because if something had happened to you, if I had waited even a second longer, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself. It's hard enough to accept that you were hurt at all.”
You looked down at your lap, quiet for a beat. “I didn’t think you liked me that much.”
Reid frowned, squeezing the wheel.
"Name.. I don't dislike you." He said hoarsely. "I admire you, to be truthful. You're brave. Strong. Everything I want to be and have struggled to be my whole life," his voice was just above a whisper as he stole a glance your way.
"But I worry. All the time. I worry that something will go wrong and I'll lose another person. Another member of the team. And someone that I.." He trailed off.
Your heart thudded painfully in your chest.
“Someone that you…?” you echoed gently, coaxing the rest out of him.
Reid’s jaw clenched. He exhaled shakily through his nose, like the truth physically hurt to say aloud.
“Someone that I like. Someone I care about,” he said at last, voice quiet but unwavering. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want it to. You make me insane, half the time. You drive me completely up the wall.”
You smiled faintly, despite the tension thick in the car.
“But then I watch you work. Or I hear you laugh. Or you look at me like I’m not broken, like I’m not damaged goods. And I—I can’t unfeel it.”
Silence blanketed the car once more, but this time it was full of unsaid things that didn’t need words. It buzzed with the gravity of what had finally cracked open between you.
He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, putting the car in park. His eyes slid over to yours again.
You reached out slowly, resting your fingers gently over his. He looked down at your hand, then up into your eyes, as if trying to make sure this was real.
You gave a soft, knowing smile. “Took you long enough to admit it.”
Reid huffed a breath, almost a laugh, though his eyes were still glassy with everything he hadn’t said before tonight. “I thought you hated me.”
“I thought you were too good for me.”
His gaze flicked to your neck, then back to your eyes. “No one’s too good for you.”
"You are." You snorted. "I'm mean. Closed off. I don't listen."
Reid shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.
“You’re protective,” he corrected gently. “You carry the weight for everyone else so they don’t have to. And you listen more than you think — not always to words, but to people. To their actions, their patterns. That’s why you’re good at this.”
You looked away, swallowing hard, your throat tight. “Still. You’re… kind. And soft. And patient. You make people feel safe just by being in the room. I make people flinch.”
Reid’s hand turned beneath yours, his fingers slipping between yours with quiet certainty. “I don't flinch.”
Your eyes snapped back to his, caught off guard by the quiet conviction in his voice. There was no teasing, no hesitation, no irritation in his tone — just truth. Solid and unwavering.
You stared at him for a beat, breath shallow. “No,” you whispered. “You don’t.”
Reid tilted his head slightly, his gaze dipping to your lips for just a second before returning to your eyes. “I see you. All of you. And I don’t flinch.”
The weight of his words settled in your chest like an anchor: grounding, calming, terrifying in the best way. No one had ever looked at you like this. Not with fear. Not with judgment. But with… something gentler. Something that threatened to undo every wall you’d ever built.
“You’re not scared of me,” you said quietly, like you were still trying to convince yourself.
“I’m scared for you, every time you throw yourself into harms' way,” he admitted, voice barely above a breath. “But never of you.”
There was a pause. Heavy. Electric.
And then, in the dark hush of the SUV, with the sounds of the city and the glow of the streetlights casting soft shadows across his face, you leaned in.
"Reid?"
"Call me Spencer."
You snorted softly, rolling your eyes.
"Spencer?"
His name lingered on your tongue, warm and unfamiliar in that intimate kind of way, like a secret finally spoken aloud.
He gave the faintest nod, eyes flicking down to your lips again, and this time he didn’t look away.
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges, like he already knew what you were going to say but needed to hear it anyway.
Your breath caught, lips parting slightly. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”
He blinked. “What?”
You tilted your head, your smile barely there. “The staring. The tension. The way you act like I’m a walking risk assessment.”
Spencer’s lips tugged up, sheepish but unrepentant. “I didn’t want to cross a line.”
“You didn’t.” Your voice softened, fingers still tangled with his. “You didn’t cross anything.”
He leaned in a little closer, enough for his breath to ghost across your cheek.
“Then can I?” he whispered.
Your heart thudded once, hard, before you nodded.
“Yes. Please.”
And then, he kissed you.
Slow. Intentional. Like he’d waited a lifetime for permission.
And you, well, for once, you didn’t think. You didn’t fight.
You just let yourself feel.
You knew your father would've liked him.
#fanfiction#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#doctor spencer reid x reader#dr reid#bau team#derek morgan#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine
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Unknown Feeling | M.R X Reader
a/n: wydm i gotta go to work now :'( pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom!Reader wc: 2.4k
!! warning; semi proof read !!
prev | masterlist | send me a love letter ♡ | next pt



It was off, lacey sat across from nick with a look of uncertainty.
“I got you a gift buggy!” Nick smiled as he grabbed a small gabby cat keychain form his pocket, lacey smiled politely at it; truth be told lacey had hated the kids show, her allergy to cats filled it, only acting happy to please you.
“Thank you, nick.” She gently placed it down on the table beside her, you held back a laugh at the motion, the hidden look of disgust on her little face.
“Nick? I’m dada!” Nick smiled, making you nod and smooth the hairs on lacey’s head.
“You’re name is nicolas though!” She explained, looking at her mom, as if asking if the man in front of them was dumb. “I heard you’ve been doing ballet, you like it?” Nick asked, scooting the the edge of your couch.
You saw the plain difference, robby had asked the same question and gotten a whole exclamation of her ballet moves and class while now nick only gotten a small nod. “I’m going to be a rat again.” Lacey explained, looking to the side before back at you. “Can i get a juice, mommy?” She asked politely making you nod before getting up.
Not long after you left nick followed, sighing as he leaned against the kitchen island, admiring you.
You pulled out a small juice box, many cartoon animals on the carton, as you cleaned up you stood at the sight of nick. “What is it?” You asked, grabbing a small pack of pretzels for a snack for lovebug.
“Motherhood suits you y’know? The whole material is your vibe.” He chuckled, moving closer to you.
“Opposited to your non paternal vibe?” You joked, laughing at it.
He rolled his eyes playfully and moved closer to you. “I could take care of you girls, i’ve got my own place not the far from the studio, you could quit the hospital and take care of lacey full time…maybe some more?” His words made you scoff.
“Sure, so you can leave again!” You smirked, placing your hands on your hips. “I was young, didn’t know what i even wanted.” Nick tried to defend, making you scoff.
“And i wasn’t?” You asked, tilting your head to the side slightly. Nick sighed and stared at you for a moment before scoffing at you, an annoyed smile on his face as he paced the room.
“I get it now, you want me out so you can make that emergency doctor to her dad!” He accused, at his words you couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “You know what, he’d probably be a better dad than a deadbeat like yourself.” You scoffed, picking up the juice box and walked over to lacey who had zoned into her cartoons.
Nick walked over and sat down beside lacey. The little girl drank her juice and watched you both before going back to the TV.
“You excited to be a rat this year, baby?” Nick asked, lacey nodded wordlessly.
“What do you plan on doing?” He asked, trying to start a conversation. Lacey sighed and blinked slowly, “Dance.”
Nick sighed and got up from the couch, this meeting clearly not working in his favor.
- - - - - - - -
It had driven robby crazy, you had been avoiding him at all cost. When you would run into him you’d refer to him as dr. robinavitch, there had been rumors of your own dating life going around now, robby had hoped none were true.
You had been spotted several times getting into a truck with a random guy. One of the nurses said they had seen you out in public with him at grocery stores and coffee shops.
Robby knew deep down he shouldn’t have felt that way after he hadn’t cleared up rumors of him and collins together. It was a constant thought in his head, were you and lacey happy with...him?
Sighing as he leaned onto central before getting pulled away by a trauma, most of his days had gone faster as he thought of several ways he could apologize to you, it had killed him to see the look of love change to nothing, as if you never opened up to him. He sighed as the EMTs rolled in more patients.
Robby glanced over them before sending them to open rooms and some into the trauma rooms. All while assisting the residents and interns robby couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift off to you.
As he exited the trauma room, tossing his gloves into the nearest trach can he mindlessly looked up and stopped as two ICU nurses rolled you in on a wheelchair, vomit bag in hand. “She keeps fainting, vomiting excessively and a high fever.” The nurses began listening off your symptoms to robby as you gagged into the vomit bag.
He knelt down and looked over you, ignore the death stare you gave him, he nodded and motioned for the closed off room. “Don’t do it robinavitch!” You warned him, your hand gripping one of the nurses hands as she went to wheel you away, stopping her from doing so.
He smirked at you and tugged your hand back to your lap, following behind the nurses. “Too bad, it’s my ED, and I think you don’t look too good.” He chuckled, as you thrashed from the nurses. “I’ll go into an urgent care after work!” You yelled, glaring as one prepared an IV.
“You work at a hospital for gods sake, just see one here!” One of them groaned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t make me give you propofol!” She warned, at he threat you groaned and helped the two as you got into a hospital bed.
As robby went to check you over a trauma caught his attention, he looked at you for a moment before leaving to the trauma, leaving you and the nurses in the room.
As you fell in and out of sleep, a knock on the door made you glance up, both dr. collins and dr. king stood at the door. You sighed and attempted to sit up. “Heard the ICU’s best finally fell.” Collins teased earning a small nod, you attempted not to be upset at heather, she couldn’t have known about you and robby either..
“Lovebug caught something, I assume it’s the stomach flu.” You sighed, motioning to the several vomit bags now laid out nearby in case. Dr. king sighed looking between you and collins. “We just need to rule out other things, Um– is there a chance you could be pregnant?” Mel asked politely, making you snort at the question, you shook your head at her.
“We’ll still have to run a test to be sure but more than likely you probably caught a stomach bug.” She nodded, handing you a testing cup. You nodded and got up with the help of the two women. Mel had helped walk you to the bathroom, quickly filling the cup.
You washed your hands and let your thought go to your patients upstairs or lacey’s practice. With a groan you realized you had left your phone upstairs on your desk. Walking out of the restroom, you walked over to mel and handed the test over.
Thankfully collins had gotten pulled away and mel walked to the lab to have the sample tested. You looked around, it had seemed busy, quickly making your way to the elevators, as your foot stepped in, a firm hands stopped you. “That’ll be an AMA, get back to your bed!” Langdon scolded, making you groan.
“I thought i was in the clear,” You whined as langdon guided you away from the elevators.
“I just left my phone upstairs, please can i go get it?” You begged, making him snort a laugh. “Sure you did, i’ll send an intern up.” He watched as you got back into the bed before flagging down whittaker to get your phone. The blond nodded and scurried away.
“I have two legs y’know?” You rolled your eyes, langdon shook his head. “And excessive vomiting, don’t need someone slipping in your dinner..” He smiled before leaving to central.
- - - - - - - -
It had been about two hours since you had tested, majority of the ED workers had “happened” to be passing by your room. You had managed to fall asleep, the fatigue hitting hard.
A soft knock made you wake from the light daze you had fallen in. Mel stood at the door with her eyebrows furrowed. She stepped in and stood up closer to your bed. “Um- I got your results back.. It’s actually positive…” Her words make your stomach drop.
“Excuse me?” You asked, feeling ringing in your ears at the news. “You’re pregnant, congratulations, or if you need we can have a medical abortion, totally your choice!” Mel ressured, making you nod, your thought going wild.
“Don’t put it on my chart please, um– just say it’s the stomach flu..” You asked the doctor who nodded, a bit confused but agreed. She had quickly dismissed you, helping you as you disconnected from the IVs, you shrugged on your jacket and walked back upstairs, quietly.
Lacey was going to be an older sister? It had to be robby’s child, you had refused to let nick get near you in any intimate way. Your thoughts ran wild the elevator ride.
As you sat back down at your desk, you placed your hands on your head, wishing the world would swallow you whole at the moment. One of the nurses walked over and watched over you. “You alright?” She asked, eyeing you carefully. With a nod you sighed and got up to attend to the patients nearby, distracting yourself from the news.
As your shift had continued you couldn’t help but want to see the results yourself after seeing on your period tracker your cycle had been late, quickly telling the others you needed to buy something at the cafeteria you had slipped down to the ED, making your way to their supply closet.
Slipping into the room, you searched over the shelves before landing on the pregnancy tests they used. You grabbed three and shoved them into your jacket pockets, making sure nothing stuck out.
As you went to leave, robby entered the room and blocked you in. You scoffed, the universe had it out for you that day.
“Can i get by dr. robinavitch?” You asked, not making eye contact.
“Not unless we talk.” He shook his head, crossing his arms as you nodded and looked around the room. “Dr. king cleared me, i have the stomach flu, lacey caught one from the kids at the studio..” You explained, grabbing a vomit bag in case, you quite literally couldn’t stomach the situation.
“I mean about the park, these past few weeks..about us?” Robby kept his gaze on you, watching as you look down at your shoes; those pregnancy test burning a hole into your pocket as he kept talking.
“Talk? Talk about you randomly running off and appearing in a relationship the next week?” You asked, scoffing, your outburst taking robby off guards. “We should talk about this another time michael, i have patients and so do you. Now if i may leave!” You excused yourself and pushed past him and ran back upstairs to the nearest secluded bathroom.
Robby sighed and groaned as you ran past him, refusing to speak to him, calling him michael, it wasn’t like how he imagined it would go, rather then it sounding soft and filled with love, now it had a serious tone and nothing more.
Robby huffed into his hands as you left him in the supply closet, he couldn’t help but grow frustrated at his own actions.
As he leaned his forehead against the shelving, the supply door opened.
“Sorry to interrupted your breakdown but no one had taken a look at a dancer with a broken ankle in south 15..” Dana informed, watching as robby took a moment before nodding at her. “Yeah– yeah i’ll be there..” He sighed, running a hand over his head before walking out of the supply closet.
- - - - - - - -
“Hi there, i’m dr. robby, heard you have a broken–!” Robby stopped as he made eye contact with the three girls in the room, cursing under his breath.
Lacey sat on the patients mom’s lap, tapping away on her tablet while the mom quietly rocked lacey and herself on the plastic chair. “Broken ankle, um–how did it occur?” Robby asked, grabbing the nearest stool and sat down by the patient’s ankle.
“Dance practice…I was suppose to be our sugar plum..” The teen sighed, resting her head on gurney’s railing. Robby nodded and looked over to the ankle before nodding to himself. “Looks like you’ll be needing a cast and a replacement.” He sighed, his gaze following to lacey who had occasionally looked up from he tablet to listen.
“I told her only to do four pirouette’s for the practice...” Lacey muttered under her breath, robby hid a smiled as he typed up the order on the computer. “How many can you do?” Robby asked lacey, turning as she looked at robby before looking to the teen in the gurney. “I’m not showing you, look at what happened!” She said dramatically, patted the teen’s uninjured leg in comfort.
“A nurse should be in to set things up for the cast, then i’ll be back.” Robby smiled and went to leave the room, quickly waving to lacey before exiting.
- - - - - - -
You paced the bathroom as the test laid face down, the timer on your phone going. As you thought of possibilities your phone rang, looking at the contact you sighed and answered.
“Yes mom?”
“Oh perfect you answered, listen anna had a bad fall and her mother called to say that she won’t be able to be in the show and well me and marissa were going through the storage unit and happened to find your old sugar plum and it’s perfect since tomorrow evening the photographer will be here..” SHe hinted making you scoff.
“I haven’t done sugar plum since I was eighteen, nice try mom..” You sighed.
She scoffed on the other side before confessing. “Fine, when i picked lacey up, i may have snooped through your closet to have your costume resized, it should fit like a glove honey!” She reassured.
You sighed, going to open your mouth but stopping as the timer went off. “Yeah, sure mom. um–I’ll call you in bit!” You quickly hung up the phone and flipped over the test results.
All tests laid out the same result.
Negative.
next pt
lovebug taglist!! @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @evans-dejong @lovebuggyies @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @whimsicalfungiforager @equallyshaw @qardasngan @fallout-girl219 @dantemorenatalie @18lkpeters @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @blackblueberries @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @isla-finke-blog @baileythepenguin @khaleesibeach @obfuscateyummy @li22ie2017 @hagarsays @catmomstyles3 @antisocialfiore @journalism2004 @capswife @obsessed-fan-alert @sabrinaselina55
#dr. robby x reader#dr robby x reader#michael robinavitch x reader#michael robinavitch x you#dr robinavitch x reader#dr robby x you#michael robby robinavitch x reader#robby robinavitch x reader#the pitt x reader#the pitt x you#robby ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Things to Put in a Middle/Kidre Bag
A handheld gaming system like a switch or a DS and some games to play on it
Small toys and trinkets to keep you company while you’re out and about
A digital camera or camcorder, so you can still capture moments without getting distracted by your phone
Comfort items like a fidget, paci, or something like that because even big kids have comfort items
A plushie that’s small enough to fit inside the bag
Yummy snacks like chips or gummies just in case you get hungry
A cool water bottle filled with your favorite drink so you can stay hydrated
Age appropriate makeup (if you wear any)
A sketchbook, notebook, or activity book, and some crayons or pencils to keep you occupied
A small, easy to read chapter book if you’re going on a longer trip
Cute keychains and pin buttons to personalize it and show off your awesome style
Lastly, important stuff like your medicine, wallet, glasses, or emergency supplies
If you can think of anything else, feel free to mention it!
#sfw middle regression#middle regression#sfw agere#agere blog#sfw agedre#age regression#agere#agedre#sfw age regression#agere textpost#agere list#lists#agere bag#kidre#sfw kidre
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i don’t know which autistic/adhd/any kind of neurodivergent person needs to hear this but: make a “just in case” bag
this is a pic of mine. it contains:
loop earplugs on the zipper
prescription glasses with a clip on sunglasses attachment
my public transport discount card
a pen
a glasses cloth + wet glasses wipes (which can also be used to clean my hands if needed!
wireless earbuds in case my headphones give out
tips for my apple pencil + silicon covers if i need a different texture/the sound is too loud
a sanitary pad (not for me, as i had a hysterectomy, but i like carrying one around for my menstruating friends)
a pouch with hair ties for when my hair bothers me
autism lanyard (not pictured, as i put it in after i took it)


will i use these every day? not necessarily. but it’s good to have these all in one place in a little pouch so it’s easy to throw into my bag as i use different ones for different occasions. that way i don’t have to think about all these things individually.
it might seem like common sense for some people, but i didn’t think of this until recently. so i wanted to share this in case it could be handy for other people. some more ideas for what to put in your bag under the break. you can make this as big or as small as you like so some ideas may seem a bit big
powerbank + cables (preferably a powerbank that has a LOT of charge)
snacks (do keep an eye on the expiration date)
painkillers/emergency meds (same thing about the expiration date)
sewing kit
deodorant/perfume
mini fan
hand warmers
scissors/nail clippers (for when tags/threads/your nails are bothering you)
tweezers
lucky charm (i have my lucky cat keychain. it just calms me to have)
plushie/stress ball/fidget toy
mints/a mini toothbrush and toothpaste
extra pair of underwear (for if you suddenly need to stay somewhere overnight or if an accident happens)
comb
band-aids + disinfectant
hand cream/soothing cream
soap/soap leaves
similarly, some mini shampoo or mini body wash (again for if you suddenly need to stay the night. there’s probably already some wherever you’re staying but again. this is a just in case bag)
q-tips
chapstick
makeup remover wipes
razors
hand sanitizer/general sanitizer
wet wipes/tissues
foldable bag
ruler/tape measure
this is a lot but keep in mind, these are just ideas. you don’t have to use everything, just pick out which things you think would be handy for you and make your bag accordingly. do feel free to add onto the list if you have any other ideas.
#tuna stuff#autism#actually autistic#autistic adult#autistic community#autistic things#adhd#actually adhd#audhd#actually audhd#adhd help#autism help#neurodivergent#neurodiversity#autism tips#adhd tips#neurodivergent tips#adhd problems#adhd struggles#autism struggles
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