#BUT the moment i got that water tablet

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny and the Fan Blog part 2

Danny is trying to get a picture from the Gotham Bridge of its sister city, Bludhaven. He has dropped his invisibly, sure that being on the edge of a dangerous out-of-the-way ledge will keep unwanted mugging away.

He had flown down to the bottom metal part of the arch right smack in the middle- still far from the water but lower than where the cars and people were.

He sinks to his knees, hoping the bridge's light can get his shadow against the waves for an epic piece. Danny aims his lens, adjusting the focus again, and then presses the button.

At the exact moment, he does, a boat out rushes from underneath the arch of the bridge, and a body flings itself off the bridge's edge above him. The person twists masterfully midair, landing on the boat's deck with a soft thump and not a wasted movement.

Danny's mouth drops open, watching the boot disappear into the horizon before scrambling to see the photo.

It's gorgeous.

The water is highlighted by the golden glow of the street lanterns, and they bounce off the sleek black boat, with the skyscrapers of Bludhaven painting the perfect drop back. But what ties the picture together is Red Robin mid-fall, half twisted and arms above his head that its hard to tell if hes a fallen angel or a rising one.

He's got a half smile on his face, black hair blowing in the wind and Danny breath catches.

It's the best picture he's ever taken.

He stares at the screen of his camera, wondering how he could have been so lucky to have captured the perfect moment. Danny won't even have to do too much editing. It's ready to be posted right now.

He was so excited to share it that Danny abandoned his place, turning invisible and flying back to his apartment. He arrives to find Jazz working on her homework on the kitchen table, but her hand rests on a ghost gun until he drops his powers and becomes invisible.

Her face lights up at once, and her hand lifts from her weapon. "Danny! How was the photos tonight?"

"Only got one." He admits, sprinting forward to show her, "But look at which one!"

He brings up the image from the memory card, displaying it proudly. Jazz mouth slacks. "Woah, Danny, that's amazing! He looks so good in it! How on earth did you manage to get this?"

"Luck, really." He grins, reaching for a plate with apple slices and peanut butter that Jazz likely set out for him. It is his favorite snake.. "I was at the right place at the right time."

"And where exactly was this place?" He winces at the tone, he knows she doesn't like him taking too many risks, but it's not like he's in any real danger. Even the Meta collars that canceled people's powers would never work on him. Danny is a ghost, and no one has the technology for that unless someone finally starts taking his parents seriously.

Vlad has been fine since Jazz convinced him to see a therapist. He is currently in the ghost zone at some mental hospital retreat that has been doing wonders for him. They visit whenever chance they get.

"I may have been under the Gotham Bridge."

"Trigate Bridge or Brown Bridge?"

"There is more then one bridge?"

"Danny," Jazz sighs. "There are four bridges."

Danny shrugs, taking a bit from his snack, and starts his laptop. He's sending the photo onto his blog from his camera, watching the photo download with anticipation. "I don't know Jazz. I ignore stuff like that."

"Well, maybe you should. You have yet to learn how important it is to pay attention to the things around you in this city. Danger is around every corner. Just this afternoon, someone tried to steal my phone!"

Danny's head jerks up. "They what?"

"I know! I was just minding my business reading a fascinating article on child development in the tablet era when some thug walked right up to me with a gun. I would have handled it trust me, his stance was pathetic at best, but Red Hood came to my rescue." Here Jazz's face reddness and Danny has a moment to wonder if he could take Red Hood in a fight. Maybe. He's sure he would win but it would be a close call.

He would do it, too, anything to keep no good punks away from his sister.

Jazz sees the face his making and rolls her eyes. "What? I'm allowed to drool over boys every once in a while. Just like you do."

"I do not droll!" Danny shouts offended.

Jazz gestures to the laptop screen, uploading the photo onto his blog. "Sure. And you just happen to stare at Red Robin's photos for the artistic application."

"I-I do! I took them!" Danny shutters, watching his sister's face break into a teasing smile. He feels his own lips pull upwards against his will and suddenly, they are laughing. It's strange, how at ease they both feel here.

They were never this carefree back at their parent's home. The realization makes Danny feel slightly guilty for noticing- because it wasn't like his parents didn't love him- but there was always tension at home. Even before the accident, he knows now that it wasn't healthy.

Jazz must have felt the change too, because before while she was racing towards adulthood- always strung so tight and nervous- she missed out on being a typical teen. Danny never had a chance to sit down with her and gush about boys, nor had she ever prioritized making friends.

Sure, Jazz was pretty, brilliant, and basically the pride of Casper High, but Danny never noticed she had no friends. She never hung out with people at the mall, she never got invited to go out, and she never texted funny memes to others back home.

In Amity, people knew of and respected her, but no one was close to Jazz. Maybe that's why she got so excited to be part of Team Phantom when she first found out.

Jazz Fenton may have been the intelligent sibling, but Danny Fenton was the social one, leaving her feeling crippling lonely while he had his two best friends.

He knows that now.

"Speaking about drolling over boys- how's Jason?" Danny teases just as Jazz's phone buzzes with a new message. The notification displays Jason's shy smile before Jazz yanks it protectively close to her face.

Jason Peter is someone Danny can approve of instead of that thug Red Hood. Jason and Jazz met at one of their classes at the beginning of the semester when Jazz was still unused to the city. She always went to class ten minutes before it started and read to pass the time instead of speaking to her college mates.

She had been reading Pride and Prejudice- one of the fancy covers kind Vlad had gotten her- and Jason had practically teleported to her table gushing about the artwork. Then, when he sat down, the two broke into a healthy debate about the characters.

Jazz admitted to him later that she was surprised by a man in a leather jacket with a white streak in his hair and multiple piercings in his ear having such in-depth character analysis of her beloved novel.

They've been hanging out ever since.

"He is fine, thank you." She huffs, typing a response to the text. Danny places his chin on his hand, smiling as her eyes soften. "He asked me to see a play this Friday. Or, well, he said he was going to one and wanted to know if I wanted to come along."

Danny perks up. "Like a date?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" Jazz nervously plays with her hair. "He made it sound like we were just hanging out. Do you think he meant it like a date?"

"It could be either way if he didn't clarify," Danny admits, then smiles to settle her sudden anxiety. She always doubted herself about spending time with people outside the family or Team Phantom. Doubts that were the result of her upbringing. "But why don't we go shopping tomorrow? Get you a nice dress, and I'll do your make-up. Once we're done, he'll wish it was a date!"

Jazz's smile may be wobbly, but it was there, and it was real. They chat more about the play and what she should wear. Danny forgoes any black, claiming it's too fancy for a first date, and trades ideas for her outfit.

Neither notices that the photo has finished uploading or that people are already commenting and losing their minds.

Nor did they notice a particular hacker with the handle- Oracle- attempting to break into his computer only to be booted out by Technus' system. It flings Oracle to the closest computer system that is close to his.

Somewhere deep underground under a particular mansion. Oracle panics, thinking that Phantom piggyback rides her signal to the cave and quickly shuts everything down. She bites her lip before picking up her personal phone and calling Bruce.

"We have a problem."

Else where Tim is helping Dick with an out-of-control gang. He isn't aware that a photo of him has just circulated through Gotham nor of the sudden new simps awaiting him.

(Lady Gotham laughs)

[diejager]

Something crazy lol

How would the monster 141 guys react to hunter sneezing so hard their nose starts bleeding? cold is crazy where I am that this just happened

Cw: weird medical thing, blood, bloody nose, tell me if I missed any.

You caught a fever on the last mission, having to treck through the cold, rural regions of Finland, your bodies victim to the biting frost and staying in an abandoned bunker turned safe house for a few days resulted with that. As a medic - the medic of the Task Force - you knew what to do and what not to do, it was implemented in your training to rid of a cold or small sickness as quick as possible for a weakened body. They naturally flock you like worried mothers once you’re back on base, whenever someone was free, they’d tail you around the base, helping you with things if you had trouble with it because of your runny nose and dazed mind. They became your shadows, a perpetual shape following you from behind or the side.

It was expected from you to help even when you were sick, wearing a mask around people, taking care to avoid infecting others with your strand, and eating farther from your team or in the safety of your room where you wouldn’t worry about sharing the contagion while you ate. You took your medications on a regular schedule, a pill of ibuprofen for the aches, your pounding head, your throbbing joints and general soreness, and acetaminophen for your growing fever. You estimated, from prior experience, that your fever would break a week or two in when you took care to drink water, ate correctly, took your meds and slept regularly, but it persisted. Your fever was like a pest, consistent and stubbornly staying in your system. 

It got to the point that your nose became much too irritated, sensitive to the slightest touch or whenever you sneezed again and again. Your nose pained you with everything you did, and after one too many sneeze, something ruptured. You splattered blood on the inside of your mask after a painful sneeze, a raspy cough following it and a flurry of panic from them. Throwing away any caution and self-consideration for their health to hurry to your side, worried hands pawing at you and whispering their concerns at your sudden bloody nose. 

If they were worried about you before, now they were extremely concerned. Price had you confined to your room, tied down to your bed and left under watch with at least one man by your side, and they ignored every little complaints and huffs you threw at them. Ghost and Horangi had to manhandle you to your bed, laying your head on the soft pillow Alejandro and Rudy went on a hunt for and covering - wrapping you in with how much you struggled against them - you with a thick and warm blanket that Gaz went to the trouble of buying on a sudden whim. 

The sergeants had more time on hand, rerouting to your room so often that they lived with you, entertaining you when you grew bored from reading novels and watching a série or documentary on your tablet. They made you laugh and made your moments less depressing. Ghost and the colonels had less time to visit, but they came whenever they could, always bringing a plate of sweets or a snack to fix your occasional hunger; Ghost with his chip bag, König with his pastry, and Alejandro with his spiced food. Price was the busiest man of the team, glued to his desk and old and used chair, signing paperwork and having to think of a temporary replacement for you, but he still had time to pass at night or after he ate, bringing you a plate from the mess hall. 

You hated being sick, it went against all you stood for and it ultimately made your Task Force worry and fuss about you.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[celtic-crossbow]

For You, I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early-ish Alexandria

Warnings: Suggestive (extremely mild); hangover

Summary: You're hung over and don't really remember how you got to Rosita's house the night before. Or what you had said on the way there.

A/N: Just a fun little drabble born of this incorrect quote. Suggested by @marvelcasey05

You didn’t expect to find Daryl still home when you wandered in the next morning. He was always an early riser, and though everyone else still slept, he would usually be long gone and outside the gates. So, when you tip-toed through the door and into the kitchen, your heels in your hand, he nearly scared the life out of you. You flipped the lightswitch and:

“Mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ, Daryl!”

The archer chuckled behind his coffee mug before tilting it the least bit more to take a sip. “Rollin’ in awful late.”

You shrugged “Or early, depending on how you look at it. Any left?” You nodded toward the cup. He gave a quiet mhm and got up to make you a mug. Your head was throbbing. You knew your makeup was a mess and your hair a disaster. You had slept in your dress at Rosita’s, so it was wrinkled and you were almost certain that it was only partially zipped in the back.The party hadn’t been that fun but the liquor had been flowing. That was why you went. Things in Alexandria had been stressful. Your group had been there a while. Long enough for so many problems to come along and be handled. The past week had been particularly eventful. Still, it had been handled and there had been some time to cut loose. 

So, you did.

You sat your heels on the counter and muttered a thank you when he slid the mug across the surface, narrowing your eyes across the rim as you readied for a drink. “Do you know how I take my coffee?”

“Guess you’ll need to take a drink an’ find out, won’tcha?” He was perching himself back on the island stool when you realized that Daryl Dixon was barefoot, wearing flannel pajama pants, and a faded Led Zepplin t-shirt. 

“You’re wearing people clothes.” You blinked, still holding the mug close to your mouth. 

Daryl smirked from behind his own cup. “M’a person, contrary to popular belief.” He took another sip, prompting you to take one of your own. He did know how you liked your coffee. Interesting. 

An ache in your left foot reminded you that you wanted nothing more than to go to your room and fall into a coma for a few hours. “I should probably take some—”

“S’behind ya. Got ‘em out earlier. Water too.”

There were two tablets on the countertop by the fridge, along with a glass of water. You warily picked them up, almost as if they would come alive and bite you. “Thank you?”

“Mhm.” 

Quickly swallowing them, you downed the water because coffee wasn’t the best tool for rehydrating, but you’d be damned if you’d give up that mug for anything. Collecting your heels and your coffee, you started walking backwards out of the kitchen. “Listen, I’m gonna head upstairs and get off my—”

“Perfectly good chair right here.” 

“What?” Now you were looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. There were no other chairs in the kitchen. Carol had the only other stool piled full of kitchen junk she had yet to put away. “Are you sure you’re awake?”

“M’wide awake. How’d ya get to Rosita’s last night?” 

Wait. Was Daryl blushing? “She helped—” No, that wasn’t right. Rosita and Tara came back long after you did. You distinctly remembered grumbling at them to turn off the lights. “How did I get there?” You said aloud, though softly.

“I took ya.”

Your shoes hitting the floor echoed through the quiet house, causing both you and Daryl to flinch. After a moment, no baby cried and no adults yelled. You walked forward and placed your mug back on the counter. “What do you mean you took me? You weren’t at the party.”

Cause Daryl’s home. He doesn’t like parties.

He shrugged but the pink tint to his cheeks was now traveling a route up to his ears. “Was workin’ on the bike. Saw ya stumblin’ ‘round in the dark. Didn’t wantcha to get hurt.”

“Did I—did I say anything stupid?”

And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

“Nope.” The archer was staring at his coffee cup, rolling the smooth sides between his hands. He absolutely knew what you had said but he was giving you an out. Goddamn that man. He had to be beautiful, rough edged, and chivalrous at the same time? 

“Good.” You nodded. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.” You turned to walk out, leaving the coffee mug behind. “And for—you know, getting me there safely last night.” 

He nodded with a small, tight smile but didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was just teasing you. No, Daryl wasn’t the type. Well, he was but not with things that were at his expense. He was definitely going out of his comfort zone if the red tint on his face was any indication. Did he want to do that with you? You certainly wouldn’t mind. You’d wanted Daryl for as long as you could remember. Even before he started treating the group more like friends than survival buddies. There was always just something about him that called to you, pulled you in like a magnet, but there was this invisible line that didn’t feel safe to cross. Was he toeing that line with you now?

You might never get the chance again if you were to shut him down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You called from the stairs, barely looking over your shoulder. Your heart was racing.

“Yeah?”

“There’s—there’s no chair in my—what’re you—hey!” You were over his shoulder and being hauled down toward his room in the basement before you could do much more than laugh.

“Weren’t no way ya could make any line ‘bout a chair work.”

“Got a bed, right?”

“Got a mattress.”

“That’ll do, Dixon. That’ll do.”

[wileys-russo]

Hi! Idk if you’re taking requests, but maybe a sequel to ‘headache’ with Alessia, where this time reader is the one with the headache?

part one headache 2.0 II a.russo

alarm bells had sung out in alessia's head from the very first moment she'd woken up this morning, having fallen asleep with you tucked up beside her she was surprised to find the bed empty.

sitting up and rubbing her face tiredly she'd blinked the sleep from her eyes and checked the other bed, maybe you'd wanted some space.

but no, that one was also empty which further peaked her suspicion.

"babe? are you here?" she called out, frown deepening when she didn't receive a response at first. then after a few beats of silence pass she heard what sounded like the faintest of hums from the bathroom.

quickly kicking off the duvet she tied her hair up and out of her face, padding toward the open bathroom door, heart falling into her stomach at the sight of you laid down on the floor with a towel over your face.

"baby?" she was knelt beside you in an instant, gently peeling off the wet towel as you blinked a few times, wincing at the harsh white light of the bathroom and groaning quietly. "what's happened? are you hurt? sick? did you pass out? throw up?" alessia helped you to sit up, checking all over you as you softly pushed her away.

"i'm fine less." you brushed off her concerns with a sigh that didn't pass as okay. "well i just found you asleep on the bathroom floor, so something is up pretty girl. talk to me!" alessia worried, still fussing over you as you gently pushed away her hands, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"i just have a bit of a headache and i thought the cold tiles and a wet towel might help." you admitted, eyes closed as alessia reached up to flick off the bathroom light. "oh my love." the blonde's face softened, quietly murmuring that the floor was hardly clean and helping you up to your feet and back to bed.

"how bad is it one to ten? don't lie please." she all but whispered, squatted down as you sat on the edge of the bed, still pinching the bridge of your nose hoping it might relieve some pressure. "a six? seven maybe? it was worse before but it keeps going up and down, i woke up around four i think." you mumbled quietly.

"hey why didn't you wake me?" alessia frowned, thumb gently carressing your cheek. "didn't wanna bother you." you grumbled quietly, the obvious strain in your voice causing her heart to break a little further.

"my beautiful girl you are never a bother, we've spoken about this before." alessia assured you with another frown, kissing the crown of your head as you nodded and mumbled a near inaudible apology.

"i'm gonna go talk to sarina babe you cannot train today." alessia decided for you seeing the obvious wince of pain flash across your face once again.

"i'll be fine less! please. we're only in the gym today and i can handle that, i just need some water and some food and a tablet." you argued, alessia biting her tongue knowing just how stubborn you could be, especially when it came to national camps.

"fine. but i'm still telling her you've got a headache so she keeps an eye on it!" your girlfriend warned as you nodded, also not having the energy to go back and forth. "i can go down and bring you up some food baby? give you an extra hour or two of rest." her tone softened again as she looked at you sympathetically.

"no no it's okay. can you get me a bottle of water though please?" you requested softly, a cold bottle from the fridge in your hand within seconds, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth as you pressed it against your closed eyes.

whilst you did alessia raced around the room, drawing the curtains and trying to make the room as dark as possible, swearing quietly as she stubbed her toe on the end of the bed, biting down on her bottom lip to stop her from yelling out she took a few deep breaths.

"come here and lay down baby, we still have some time before breakfast." alessia moved to sit up against the headrest of the bed, tapping the space between her legs as you managed to shuffle over. laying down your head rested in her lap and her fingers carded through your hair.

"is this okay?" she asked softly with a frown, bending down to mumble the words against your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss on the warm skin as you nodded wordlessly, melting into her tender touch.

"i love you lessi." you whispered out as the blonde swooned, ducking down again to this time press a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering those same three words right back.

~

"maybe this wasn't the best idea." alessia mumbled, herself wincing at the sudden change of volume as the two of you entered the dining hall she couldn't imagine how it would feel for you. "it's fine." you dismissed with a small sigh, tucking yourself more into her side.

"what do you feel like you can stomach babe?" the blonde asked quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head, her arm draped protectively over your shoulder as you cuddled into her side.

"whatever you're having, maybe some eggs though please." you whispered, alessia nodding and ordering the two of you eggs the way she knew you liked, grabbing some toast and fruit for the pair of you as well.

"good morning lovebirds!" alessia winced as mary appeared beside her, throwing her own arm over your shoulder as the striker was quick to shove her off. "oi! feeling a bit possessive are we less?" the goalkeeper teased, earning herself a withering glare.

"she's got a headache mary and you're as loud as a foghorn. shut up or go away!" alessia warned sternly, smiling in thanks to the chef as she grabbed your shared tray.

"jesus alright! no need to bite my head off." mary rolled her eyes, staying behind to grab her own food as alessia guided the two of you to an empty table on the opposite side of the room, as far away from everyone as the two of you could get.

"i can feed myself lessi my head hurts not my hands." you cracked a smile as the blonde attempted to offer you a forkful of eggs, picking up your own cutlery.

"just trying to take care of you is all baby." alessia kissed your cheek sweetly, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you ate, your body still tucked securely into her side.

but of course that peace didn't last.

"oi ya left me on read this morning kid, not appreciated!" alessia's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as lucy teasingly smacked the back of your head, taking a seat with her breakfast and missing the pain which flickered across your face.

"lucy!" alessia seethed, fussing over you as you mumbled you were fine, gently prying away her hands.

"what? she's not made of fine china less she hits me about all the time." the older girl rolled her eyes unknowingly. "she's got a fucking headache and you just smacked her right where it hurts!" alessia growled protectively, lucy's face paling as she paused mid mouthful.

"shit! sorry kid." the northerner winced apologetically as you waved her off wordlessly, the pain starting to set in behind your eyes now from the harsh light of the hall, training your gaze down to the table instead.

"good moorning england!" alessia winced now as ella, grace and georgia joined the three of you, ella screaming at the top of her lungs as she dropped herself down across from you, grace and georgia chattering away.

"what no good mornin back? where's ya manners gone then!" grace teased as she greeted you and you remained silent, pulling you into a headlock as alessia was on her feet within seconds, yanking the younger girl off who paled at the sight of the scowl on her face.

"i was jokin round with her less honest!" the blonde apologised with her hands in the air, wide eyed and terrified of the striker who suddenly sent a mean glare to the entire table, stood protectively behind you.

"whats in your shorts this morning then less? why do you look like somebody pissed in your cereal." ella sent her a toothy grin, lucy stamping on her foot and shaking her head as the mancunian frowned in confusion. "what?"

"she's got a headache would all of you please shut up and keep your hands off of her and to yourself!" alessia warned firmly, dropping back into her seat and tugging you tighter into her side, arm again wrapped securely around your shoulders.

"a headache? aw poor baby!" ella teased, lucy sighing with a wince as even georgia shook her head to signal ella to lay off.

"tooney would you like to get through today being able to talk? because i'll personally shove my hand in your mouth and tie your tongue in a knot if it means you shut up!" the blonde threatened seriously, rendering her best friend speechless.

"lessi it's fine love, eat your breakfast please." you murmured knocking your knee against her as she fixed the girls with one final glare, kissing your cheek and going back to eating, an awkward silence settling around the table.

"so less would you prefer we call you nurse russo or doctor russo?" "right thats it come here tooney!"

[thatdeadaquarius]

imagine if reader is given an ancient scripture from around the time humanity founded out how to write and do the alphabet (somehow it was preserved so well that you can still see the words with no issue)

and it's the most heart wrenching, soul crushing, tear inducing, hyperventilating, sanity disappearing angst, misunderstandings, hurt/no comfort, it gets worse but never better, major character death, unrequited love story to have ever existed in teyvat.

and after reader goes through the whole thing, they can barely talk or breathe properly with how much they're crying.

(even better, it was smut not angst and reader is staring ar the scripture, jaw dropped to the floor with shaking hands.)

STOP- I avoid fanfics like that at all costs 😭 id stop reading it after the first angsty event LMAO

Im like... too emotionally affected by fanfics, esp angst ones 💀

Its just, ppl who write closer to my generation or just very psychologically honestly, are like fucking deadly writers. Got my day ruined and shit w/just fanfics 😭

LMAO THE GIF IS JUST YOU ON THE SPOT NOT EVEN HALFWAY THRU-

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short! Headcanons-ish

Stars: my first of the Fontians!! Fontainianes? Fontainains?? u get it

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: sobbing, discussion of vague smut/NSFW book at the end, okay for Teen/Mature audiences, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

no but it’d be hilarious if u got this crazy like hand-width deep tablet for each “page” of the book, like how every novel or info in genshin is like one page at a time 😭

Sumeru and other international academics are literally constantly harassing politely requesting your translation of these and sending them to you in whichever country you’re visiting at the moment

Fontaine was even more complex and pretty in real life than it could ever be in game and i can def see you at like Neuvillette’s office or a nice french fontaine cafe and just WHAM

huge ass tablet bc as much as the fic tortures you, you have to know what the fuck happens to these miserable idiots

Neuvillette, Clorinde, and Lynette are all the type to immediately try and dissuade you from reading it again, bc from their point of view you just pull out this huge old rock and start sobbing quietly about 10 mins into the read every time 😭😭

(unsurprisingly, Neuvillette would even go so far as to get the Marechaussee Phantom to sneakily steal ur most recent tablets of the story to hide them, which sucks for you LMAO)

Freminet, Wriothesley, Navia, Lyney, and Furina,all frantically try to distract you, and also theyre in order of who would be the most dramatic w/it lmao

NO BC I JUST HAD THE THOUGHT-

Ur tears absolutely are top priority to Neuvillette and Furina so when they inevitably find the memories in them (and the traveler too maybe)

of what the story is about, except its like all the feelings and stuff, so like its the best “translation” they get of the book so far, u best believe it rains for a week straight

it started out as a light drizzle, but as Neuvillette “read on” in ur tear’s memories if got worse HAHA

mans is out here trying to convince himself like, “this is a classic tragedy from eons ago, its about a human romance, im definitely unaffected, though im glad i could figure out what ails My Majesty so”

meanwhile the story gets worse and its just like that meme “ohHHhhhHH its got a little kiicckkk”

Neuvillette nearly floods the streets by chapter 5 when the miscommunication happens and then they cant get in contact with each other to fix it lmao

LMAO I JUST HAD A VISIONNN

ur in fontaine and while yes drinks were popular (like obv fonta)

business is rlly booming bc now everyone you know (like the Vision-users or archons Neuvill, etc) all have develop this habit of having a water bottle or drink on them to offer you when u start reading to rehydrate you 😭😭😭

Navia, Clorinde, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney, Lynette all have a handkerchief on them at all times too 😭😭

Good God-

the moment you translate the now instant Shakespearean-level tragedy classic, it is a known tear-jerker thruout all of Teyvat,

like theres trigger warnings and age limits and shit 💀

◇

on another note,

if its smut,

ur desperately combing thru all the tablets and wall carvings and cave paintings to try and lowkey cover it up LMAO

and its not like a story with a smut scene either, its like what anon said,

just fully like the ao3 tag “Porn What Plot/Porn With Plot”

STOP

not u yanking the tablets out of Neuvillette’s hands when he curiously picks them up one time lmao

(he is now invested in getting these translated too bc of ur reaction lol)

☆

consider supporting me with an iced coffee? :0

Spooky Season! Spooky Season!! Spooky Season!!!

still not dead btw

just got hired at my new job so ive been training and busy!! :)

im a host at Olive Garden lol its weird and kinda hard, my feet hurt a lot and i havent had a full shift yet ;-; its a brand new one so it opens the 23rd

dw that eldritch one shot is still coming btw, just talking with betas and editing it now lol

hope if you read this you have a great upcoming weekend!!

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

☆

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

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♡the beloveds♡

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[vbecker10]

Laundry Day

Loki's POV of events: How Could This Not Fit?!

Bucky's spin-off fic: Loads of Fun (different Y/N character) - in progress

Pairing: Loki x female reader (ofc)

Summary: You and Loki are living together in the Avengers Tower and you've asked him to help you with the laundry. You decide it's the perfect opportunity to prank him but that might not have been a good idea... not if you wanted to sleep tonight that is.

Warnings: ... um nothing really, alluding to sex but not much

A/N: I finished my laundry and was folding (trying desperately to fold) my fitted sheet and I came up with this silly little thing so... enjoy 💚

You take a bottle of water out of the fridge in the common kitchen, laughing to yourself as you shake your head.

"Something funny in the fridge?" Tony asks from the island, looking up from his tablet.

You turn to him and open the bottle. "No, I was just laughing about something that could possibly get me in a lot of trouble with Loki," you barely explain.

"I have no idea what that means," Steve says as he and Bucky join the conversation.

You take a sip of water and set the bottle on the island. "I was tired of being the one who did our laundry all the time so I told Loki he needed to help me with it today," you start to tell them.

"Still not seeing the funny," Tony says sarcastically.

"I'm getting there," you wave away his comment and he chuckles. "So anyway, I told him to help and he did... an okay job of it. I mean, the dryer and him got in a bit of a fight but we finally got it done," you continue.

"Did he break the dryer cause I've gotta do like four loads of laundry tonight?" Bucky asks concerned as he pulls out the stool next to Steve.

"How could you possibly have to do four loads of laundry?" Tony turns towards him. "You own one hoodie and three henleys at most," he adds.

"Can we get back to my problem?" you pull their attention back to yourself. "I might not have much time left," you joke but you aren't actually sure how long until Loki comes looking for you.

"What did you do to him?" Steve asks, sounding concerned for your safety. Loki would never hurt you of course, he loved you too much, but when you annoyed him you always found it hard to walk the next day.

"Well, he put all the laundry away using his magic but I told him that was cheating. He said it wasn't and we went back and forth for a bit until I made him a bet," you smile. Loki could never resist a wager, especially since he always assumed he would win, and he usually did. "I bet him... something," you suddenly realize you don't necessarily want the guys to know the dirty things you promised Loki and they all look away awkwardly for a moment as if they understood that.

"Right, whatever... so the bet was for him to make the bed himself, without his magic," you tell them.

"Look, I still don't like him very much but, give him a little credit. I think he's smart enough to figure it out," Bucky says.

"Yeah, that doesn't really seem like a bet you're going to win, Y/N," Steve agrees.

"Well... I might not have except for one teeny tiny little bitty detail," you assure them.

"Which is?" Tony asks with a mixture of curiosity and agitation that the story is taking so long.

"I switched the sheet set," you say, they all stare at you confused and you sigh. "I gave him a full size set... and we have a queen bed. There's not a chance in hell he's going to be able to get the fitted sheet on and if he does manage it, I'll know he used his magic and still win," you smile broadly, proud of yourself for tricking the trickster God.

"Well that's a dangerous game to play," Steve says and before you can respond you hear Loki coming down the hall.

"Y/N," he says when he enters the kitchen. You swallow as your mouth goes dry, he does not look happy. "You cheated," he says without question.

"No, I was just..." you try to explain but he walks towards you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"You... cheated," he says slowly as he backs you into the counter by the sink.

"I mean, only a little," you say with a smile but he doesn't smile back. "And I only did it to make sure you didn't use your magic," you quickly try to explain.

"Um, I think we should go... literally anywhere else," Steve says as Loki grips your waist with both hands and keeps you pressed between himself and the counter.

"Don't worry, we're leaving," Loki says with a smirk, still looking only at you. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You gasp and the suddenness of it and he uses one arm to hold you in place by the back of your legs as he turns to leave the kitchen. He pauses and picks up your water bottle. "You'll need to keep hydrated, it's going to be a very long night, love," he says as he carries you down the hall towards your room.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @theaudacitytowrite @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @foxherder @tonystank8

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction ~ He’s Drunk And You Have To Pick Him Up

⤜ WORD COUNT: 2.6K altogether

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN: It wasn't often that Chan drank any alcohol so when you'd gotten the call to come and pick your drunken boyfriend up from the dorms you weren't at all surprised. The boys had informed you that it hadn't taken many drinks to get the leader drunk which you put down to the fact he hadn't drunk much in his years of being an idol.

"I love you," Chan said as you continued to drive him home, you let out a small giggle at the thought and glanced at him.

"Yeah? How much?" You quizzed, pulling into the driveway as Chan hummed and hared over what it was he was going to say and you shut down the car. 

"Soooooooo much," He slurred a little and you laughed, slowly getting out of the car and rushing around to his side so you could let him out. You'd activated the child lock since he was trying to open the doors and windows on the way home,

"If you love me, does that mean I can have a back rub tomorrow when you're feeling all better?" You teased, running your hands through his hair as he drunkenly nodded his head and laughed to himself.

"All the backrubs you want," You smirked a little and helped him through the front door of your home, taking him straight to the bathroom.

"Why here?" He frowned, but you simply handed him a glass of water and some painkillers and smiled warmly at him.

"You're probably going to be sick and when that happens I'd rather you do it in our toilet." You smiled, sitting on the floor across from him and watching as he took the tablets and downed the water from the cup.

"You're going to stay?" He seemed whiney in his drunken state and you loved that. It wasn't often you got to see Chan so whiney toward you and you were eating up every moment you had.

"Of course baby, I won't leave you alone." You smiled, dragging out a blanket and putting it over your legs.

"This is why I love you, y-you're so good to me," He started to tear up but before he could say anything else his head was in the toilet and you leaned forward, slowly rubbing his back as he threw up the contents of his stomach.

"I love you too baby," You whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade.

MINHO:

The boys had called you when Minho had gotten a bit too much for them to be able to handle, he wasn't a bad drunk or anything he was just a little loud tonight. From the videos, the guys had sent you it seemed the alcohol had brought out a louder version of your boyfriend,

"Baby, will you please get in the car..." You held the door open for Minho who was shaking his head at you, Jeongin was trying to push Minho inside but it appeared not to be working. Minho shook his head and did his best to stop Jeongin from putting him into the car.

"Don't call me that, I have a girlfriend." He cried out, your whole body heating as you looked at him it was cute that he was willing to defend your relationship while he was drunk. Even if he was only defending it to you at least he was more than likely to do it to anyone else that made a move too.

"Your girlfriend is the one trying to get you home," Jeongin whispered, a deep blush filling your boyfriend's cheeks as he looks at you the realisation that you were hitting him as he started to smile brightly.

"Beautiful!" He cried out, leaning over toward you and kissing your cheeks, sloppy kisses lining your face as you let out a small groan at the feel of them. You loved Minho to the world but you didn't exactly like feeling his sloppy kisses on your skin.

"Now will you get in the car?" You quizzed, looking at him as his cheeks began to burn even more nodding at you as he lifted your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. 

"For a princess? Of course," He slowly slid into the back seat and you let out a small sigh as you shut the door. You put your attention back on the guys who were all laughing and had their phones out, this was going to be a moment Minho would never live down.

"Has he been like this all night?" You laughed, looking to Jeongin who seemed to be relieved that Minho was now out of his hair.

"A little, but I think it's because he mixed different types of drinks." He chuckles nervously and you nodded, glancing at Minho who appeared to be getting restless in the car, so you waved bye to the boys and headed home.

CHANGBIN:

It seemed alcohol made Changbin louder than usual and you found it rather cute. What was supposed to be a nice night in with the boys had turned into some drinking games and now you were being called to collect your boyfriend.

"You want to know a secret?" Changbin asked as you got him into bed. It had become clear when you arrived at the dorms you had little to no chance of getting him back to your own place so he was staying here with you tonight at the dorms.

"Go on," You giggled, making sure he was warm enough in the bed before sitting down on the edge of it and looking at him. You gently took your hand and began to comb it through his hair,

"I'm writing a song about yn," Your hand stilled as you stared down at him, your heart pounding at the thought of him writing about you.

"You are?" Your voice cracked ever so slightly as you tried not to let the tears go that you were holding back at the thought of it all.

"Yeah, but you can't tell her. It's a secret," He hummed, closing his eyes as he snuggled down into the sheets and let out a small whine.

"What's wrong?" You quizzed, running your hand over his cheek as he whined again pouting out his bottom lip at the action.

"I miss her, I miss Yn." You bit back a laugh before kissing his forehead, his face burning up as he slowly opened his eyes to look at you.

"I'm right here baby," Before you had time to process what was happening you were being wrapped in his arms under the covers and pulled into a tight embrace.

HYUNJIN:

You'd gotten the call at 3 am to come and get Hyunjin from the bar and after a bunch of convincing you'd finally managed to get inside the crowded bar and make your way to the VIP section.

"Chan!" You called out, waving him over. You might have been able to convince the guy at the front door that you needed to get inside but you knew there was no way of getting past the guards that were at the VIP door. You were dressed in some PJs so you were pretty surprised you'd gotten this far.

"You can let her in," The guard stepped out of the way and you stepped over the small velvet rope and saw Hyunjin sitting at a table. From the way Chan had sounded on the phone you expected to find Hyunjin in a drunken messy state but he seemed pretty well kept from where you were standing. 

"I thought he was being a nuisance?" You laughed a little and Chan smirked, slowly moving you closer to the table. Hyunjin was surrounded by girls but all he could talk about was you, he kept telling them all about you and how much he loved you.

"I swear, I'm going to get her to come out one night and meet everyone. I'm sure you'll love her as much as I do." Your body heated at the thought of him speaking about you like this and you giggled, walking over and sitting on the table directly in front of him.

"Did I just wish you to be here and it came true?!" He gasped loudly, taking your face in both of his hands and turning your head toward the light as if he was checking you were real.

"Of course baby. Now It's my wish that we go home," You smiled warmly at the girls who looked rather relieved to not have to listen to your rambling boyfriend anymore.

"Home? Lets go," He closed his eyes tightly and when he opened them he appeared to be frowning,

"I thought we would go home." He whines a little as you stand up, carefully taking his hand in your own and helping him to his feet.

"We have to drive, come on prince charming. Let's head home," You giggled, dragging him past the boys who were all starting to tease him ever so slightly.

JISUNG:

When Jisung was sober he wouldn't dare make a move on you but it appeared drunken Jisung was very charismatic and flirty with you. The boys had called you a little over an hour ago to come to the dorms to take Jisung home with you but he'd failed to let you leave.

"Come on, sit on my lap and give me a kiss," He winked at you, his lips turning up at the corner and smirking at you as he saw you getting shy about all of it.

"You're adorable when you get shy," He lifted his hand to your cheek, gently stroking his thumb across your bottom lip and smirking even more when you averted your gaze from him.

"Flirt back," Felix chuckled, you looked over at him and arched an eyebrow at the member.

"I bet he won't know what to do." You nodded slowly looking back at your boyfriend who was now running his hands up and down your outer thigh. This was as open and forward as he'd been with you since the two of you had started dating a few months back and you were enjoying it - even if it was false bravado. 

"Jisung," You whispered sweetly, leaning down and kissing his jawline slowly making your way up to his ear,

"Why don't we take this to your room? You can show me how good you can make me feel." The movement of his hand on your thigh ceased and his eyes widened as he stared at you.

"W-What?" He stuttered, his skin turning bright red as he shifted away from you on the sofa,

"Let's go to bed together," You ran your fingers over his chest and he blushed even more, whimpering a little.

"I-I'm going to go to sleep," He whispered before rushing in the direction of his bedroom.

"That was the easiest way to get him to sleep," You giggled slowly beginning to clean up the mess he'd been making with his drinks. FELIX: Ever since Felix had gotten into the car he hadn't stopped touching your face, it was small gentle caresses over your skin as he stared at you in complete "awe".

"You have an adorable boyfriend." The taxi driver said as you looked over at him in the mirror, you smiled a little.

"He's a little drunk, and he gets a little clingy when he's drunk." You giggled a little feeling Felix turning your head to look at him before smiling like a drunken fool at you. It was rather adorable to see him like this and all for you,

"You're so pretty," He whispered, chuckling a little when you whimpered at him feeling your body shiver at the compliment. It was something simple and yet the mere action made your entire body tingle.

"T-Thanks Lixie," You smiled, gently holding his hand and squeezing it ever so slightly.

"I love it when you call me that, it makes my whole body tingle." He laughed a little, laying his head down on your shoulder before continuing to call you "pretty" and "beautiful".

It didn't stop the whole car ride home and even now as the two of you were climbing into bed together.

"I wonder if you'll remember this in the morning," You laughed as he wrapped his arms around you, dragging your body to be curled into him from behind so you were spooning him.

"I will, and then I'll call you beautiful all over again," He yawned, cuddling into the sheets while you gently placed a kiss on his shoulder.

SEUNGMIN:

"I'm never going to forgive you for this," You mumbled to Chan as you drove everyone home that night. He and Seungmin were going back to your place since Seungmin wasn't able to control the sound of his own voice right now since he appeared to be screaming whenever he spoke.

"It's not my fault he thinks he's speaking normally, blame the bar." You glared at Chan in retaliation and he chuckled looking over at Seungmin who was in the middle seat. You'd had to put the child lock on the windows because every now and again he would open them to scream outside about how much he loved STAY and you.

"You doing okay Seungmin?" You questioned as you pulled up at a red light, turning to look at him and coming face to face with Seungmin.

"I LOVE YOU! YOU'RE SO GOOD TO ME!" You giggled a little and turned to face the front again, driving as he continued to yell about how much he loved you.

"He's going to hear all about this in the morning," Chan chuckled. The boys had been recording Seungmin while they waited for you to come and pick him up.

"I hoe you guys send me copies of everything," You smirked pulling into your driveway and going to help Seungmin out of the car and into the house.

"YOU'RE THE BEST! ISN'T SHE THE BEST CHAN?!" Seungmin screamed out and you laughed a little, praying none of your neighbours was going to put in a complaint about the noise.

JEONGIN:

"I'm going to marry you," Jeongin said as he sat up, wiping his mouth on the towel you were holding out for him. You'd picked him up an hour ago and bought him home where he sat in front of the toilet to be sick.

"Yeah?" You giggled, stroking hair out of his forehead and smiling a little, it was adorable just how affectionate he was being toward you and you couldn't help but get a warm feeling in your chest about it. You and Jeongin had been together for about four years and the topic of marriage had never really been bought up unless it was a joke between the boys and him.

"Hmm, Channie-Hyung is going to help me look for a ring next week, he promised." You laughed a little and he frowned suddenly regretting the fact that he'd told you that.

"I shouldn't have told you that," He whined, tears starting to spring into his eyes. Your hands rushed out to cup his face as you stroked your thumb along his skin softly,

"It's okay, you don't mean it baby you're just drunk." You reminded him, hoping he wouldn't start crying right now. Drunken crying was the worst type of crying - right after crying because someone asked if you were okay that was.

"N-No...I mean it. We were planning on going next week and now I ruined the surprise." He instantly rested his head on your chest and began to cry into your shoulder while you gently stroked his back. Your heart felt as though it was about to burst at this information but you tried to contain yourself.

"I'll pretend I never heard you say it," You suggested, making Jeongin sniffle and nod his head at you.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @illicee @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @lost-leopard-beanie @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @pearlygraysky @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop​ @meowmeowisdaname​ @imafivestarkpopstan​

[mistydeyes]

Hello!! Could you do headcanons with the 141 boys with a partner who has frequent migraines and they are in the task force with them as well?

Honestly, any of these boys taking care of me while I have a migraine or just sick cures me in just a few seconds lol

thank you for requesting! I thought this was super cute to write and I was able to recall some of the non-harm methods for treating migraines :) I literally cannot even deal with a headache so I can't imagine what frequent migraines must feel like

migraines and forehead kisses

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summary: You've been diagnosed with frequent migraines but sometimes it is so unbearable that the 141 will step in and be sure to soothe their significant other.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x gn!Reader

warnings: none, all fluff :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

most of the time, your migraines are triggered by stress or following a long, sleepless mission

price can tell when your in pain, especially when you close your eyes tightly or put your head in your hands

he'll rub your shoulders and offer to make you some coffee to help

he knows you are regimented about your medication so he often offers other methods of helping your headache

and as caffeine is the answer to all of price's problems, he immediately makes you a pot of coffee

as you put your head down on the table, you can smell the strong scent of coffee beans

"don't make it too strong" you mumble and he would laugh

it's a legitimate request as you have tried his coffee and you swear it would kill a small child

"here you go, love" he would say and presents you with a small mug

you're not sure if its the stimulants from the caffeine or just being back on base, but you're headache dissipates within moments

he'll continue to ask about your condition until you reassure him you're fine

"it's always the coffee"

he's so proud of it even though its something you can buy from the grocers

soap

when you first had a migraine, soap wanted to rush you to the infirmary

he practically loses it when you tell him how you can see an aura in your vision and how it feels like a jackhammer on your brain

only after you reassured him it was a reoccurring thing and you were diagnosed before you entered selection, he calms down

now he's an expert at helping you recover

you found that brufen helps the best and soap will always have it on hand

when you closed your eyes tightly on the plane and complained about the fluorescent overhead light, he immediately searched through his tac vest

"it's here somewhere," he would say as you could hear various zippers and velcro pockets being opened

eventually he opened your palm to offer you the small tablet

"you sure this isn't expired?" you asked and he reassured you he just got it from the chemist's last week

he handed you your flask of water and patted your back after you swallowed it

as you waited for the medication kick in, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder and draws circles into your back

"it'll be alright" he reassures and you have to tell him to lower his voice as it makes the migraine worse

he'll get it right one day

gaz

when you first told gaz you had frequent migraines, he spent all night looking up remedies

you already were on medication and had your analgesics at the ready so he focused on home remedies

for a few weeks, you both tried out various techniques (caffeine and essential oils being your least favorite)

eventually, you found that a good scalp massage was ideal for making the pain go away

something about increasing blood circulation

as long as you're not in the middle of an active war zone, he will gladly sit you in between his legs and give you the best massage in the world

he'll start at the base of your scalp and work his way up with his fingers

"just let me know if i'm hurting you, love," he'd reassure but his gentle touch always made you feel comforted

it honestly feels like one of those head scratchers but a thousand times better

you joke that he should've been a masseuse instead of joining the military

he'll hum lightly as he continues until you let him know that you're feeling better

you're more than happy to return the favor with his aching muscles (especially his back and shoulders)

ghost

you know your migraines are triggered after long mission briefings where you strain to look at the screen and through various floor plans

since they're unavoidable, ghost knows what to do when you exit the room and tell him you have a migraine

plays 20 questions with you and will ask if you tried everything

did you drink enough water? yes, you know me. took your paracetamol today? yeah tried that. what about your rizatriptan? you saw me take that before the briefing.

he'll sigh before offering you some other methods

"just follow me" he responds and you walk with him back to your quarters

he leaves the light off before returning from the bathroom with a cold, damp towel

before you can ask, he sits on the bed and motions for you to sit in between his legs

you compile and once you're comfortable, he places the cold compress over your eyes

despite the initial shock, it actually worked quite well and you swear you can fall asleep like this

ghost swears he heard you snoring but you deny it

now whenever you have a long briefing, you will follow the same routine and ghost gets to enjoy some quiet alone time with you

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 11 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, ANGST, PENT-UP FEELINGS, SLOW BURN

words: 7.8k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 11 ► i can hear your heartbeat i’ve tried so hard to forget, i’m being buried under the memory of all of my regrets

On the flight to Amsterdam in the morning, you ended up sitting next to Luna. That wasn’t particularly unusual as your entire team—apart from the roadies who drove the bus with the equipment over from Oslo, bless them—tended to change seats as they pleased.

Normally, though, Luna sat next to her boyfriend. So, the fact that she was sitting next to you this time was unusual.

“Funny thing,” she said to you once the plane was in the air and everyone around you began to slowly move around. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

You looked at her. “How is that funny?”

“It’s funny because when I woke up to get a bottle of water from the mini fridge,” she said, “the curtains on your bunk were drawn.”

You swallowed, suspecting what she was getting at, but refusing to give in. “That doesn’t sound very funny, either.”

“No, I agree,” she said, grinning as she got to the best part, “but as I went back, I noticed that Jungkook wasn’t in his bunk.”

You looked down at your tablet, the e-book you had opened already forgotten as the lines on the screen blurred together. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Luna said. The more you evaded her, the happier she seemed. She had come to her own conclusions that, honestly, weren’t very far from the truth, but you couldn’t admit that, not even to her. “Any clue what’s that about?”

“None,” you lied with a nonchalant expression. “But I’m sure the explanation would be funny.”

She continued to grin at you. “I’m sure it would be. I’d love to hear it.”

You swallowed and pretended to be busy reading, even though the words on the screen might as well have been gibberish, given how little sense they made.

“I’m sure you would,” you mumbled.

Luna groaned. She wanted to know, and it was hard not to push when you were right there, and the truth of what had happened was on the tip of your tongue.

“Come on!” she pleaded, nudging her shoulder against yours. “Don’t make me wake Maggie.”

You knew Maggie was settled in the seat behind you, sleep mask, earpods and neck pillow in tow. She wasn’t the interrogator out of the two of them, but if she and Luna teamed up, they would either get you to admit everything, or they’d come to their own—probably exaggerated—version of what happened which you’d have to deny, thus confirming their initial suspicions anyway.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked, stalling.

“Just confirm what I already suspect,” Luna said, knowing better than to ask for the whole story.

You looked away instead of answering, but there was a warmth in your eyes that wasn’t there before; Luna’s questions had evidently brought back the memories of last night.

“Alright!” your friend cheered at the sight of it, relentless. “That’s confirmation enough.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress the smile that was tugging at your lips, but Luna still saw the corners of your mouth lift.

“How about you tell me why you weren’t sleeping tonight instead,” you said—only partially because you wanted to change the subject. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. That just happens sometimes, maybe too much adrenaline.” She shrugged, letting you drift off topic for the moment. “Should’ve jumped less at the concert last night. But hey, that was the reason I got to witness that very funny thing last night.” She snickered then, and, in response to your glare, said, “but I’m really fine.”

You knew the band would have three days off in Amsterdam before the next show, so Luna could reasonably get enough sleep in that time, but you still asked, “you sure?”

“Yes,” she repeated, then ran her fingers over her eyes, “and no third degree, please. I’m sitting with you because my boyfriend,” she emphasised the word as she sat up straight to look over the several rows of seats behind her where Taehyung sat, “as much as I love him, he won’t stop asking me if I’m fine every two seconds.”

“And here I thought you were sitting with me because you loved me,” you teased.

“I do love you,” she said. “But I also feel bad for him. I told him to sit with Yoongi, because Yoongi always naps on flights, and I knew that was the only way Tae would get any sleep.”

“Wait, so he didn’t sleep tonight, either?” you asked.

“He did at first,” Luna said, “but then he saw that I was awake, and he ended up staying awake, too.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You guys sicken me.”

Suddenly, someone grabbed the back of your seat—you felt fingers brush gently past your tied-back hair—and you heard Maggie moan behind you.

“You guys,” she muttered, sliding the mask from her eyes and leaning into the gap between your seat and Luna’s, “sicken me, too.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Luna said.

“How can I sleep? My earpods died a minute ago,” Maggie explained her own logic before directing her attention to you. “So, anyway. What happened between you and Jungkook?”

The continued ambush made you stutter, “wh-why do you keep asking that? Nothing happ—”

“Luna,” Maggie turned to your friend. “What happened? You and Taehyung were awake. I trust your words.”

You raised your eyebrows while Luna chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” she said to you. “I was the one who drew these conclusions. Taehyung didn’t see anything, he only heard Jungkook climb into his bunk.”

At first, you hadn’t even realised that Taehyung staying awake when Luna couldn’t sleep meant that he was not only a great boyfriend to her, but also that half the bus was awake when Jungkook snuck into your bunk.

“Jolly,” you said dryly as your eyes immediately left your friend’s face.

She smiled automatically, and, urged by your flustered state, turned to Maggie to tell her the facts: her lack of sleep and the search for a water bottle that led to the discovery of your drawn curtains and Jungkook’s empty bunk.

“And if you must know,” Luna said to you then, “my original plan was to make sure you were alone on the plane, so someone could take the seat next to you. But I ruined it by exiling my boyfriend to the back and finding you myself.”

“Clever plan,” you commented. “Thanks for sabotaging it.”

She snickered, not losing her optimism despite your sarcasm.

“More flights in the future,” Maggie remarked, prompting Luna to nod in eager agreement. “Maybe it’ll work out then.”

“Mmhmm. Fingers crossed,” you deadpanned.

“So, um, not to ruin the happy conversation,” Maggie said before she ruined the happy conversation, “but have you made a decision about Reconnaissance?”

“Oh.” You slumped in your chair. “No. My decision is to think about it as little as possible, so I can call Nick next month and tell him I’m not doing it. Because I’m afraid that if I do start thinking about it, I’ll end up… you know, wavering.”

Maggie regarded you from the gap between the seats. “And that’s bad?”

“That’s bad,” you confirmed. “I know I want to stay here.”

“Have you told the guys?” Luna asked.

“No. I haven’t had the chance yet.” You looked down, twisting the decorative silver-coloured ring on your index finger. “I kind of want this to come up naturally. I mean, as naturally as possible. So that it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”

Luna nodded sympathetically, while Maggie’s grin widened behind you.

“Yeah,” she said. “And, obviously, you and Jungkook are busy with other things for this to come up naturally.”

You saw Luna start to laugh as your eyes widened and your lips formed the first excuse that came to mind. “Okay, that’s not even true, we were just—”

The two girls were snickering too hard to hear you, but it was Maggie’s considerate tap on your shoulder—as if to tell you to stop talking because they knew better—that made you close your mouth and roll your eyes at the two of them.

“So.” Luna shifted in her seat, looking for a more comfortable position. Even though she had the window seat, she didn’t look out once, focusing on you instead. “Now that we’re back on the subject—”

“There was no subj—”

“—you and Jungkook,” she persisted, undeterred by your attempt to return your attention to the tablet on your lap. “What does this mean?”

You sighed, realising you needed to say something. Luna and Maggie weren’t questioning you to be mean, they just wanted to know. And it was fair, considering you shared almost everything with each other, especially now that Luna joined Rated Riot for some of their tour dates.

And yet this particular topic was difficult. Just the mention of Jungkook’s name blocked something in your throat, as if there were only certain things you could say about him, and what had happened on the bus last night was not one of them.

“Nothing,” you said sincerely, because those five minutes with him were truly not supposed to hold any significance. “It wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

“Okay,” Luna said, lowering her eyebrows and her voice. “And if we’re serious, then what does it mean?”

You closed your eyes. “It—”

“Hey.” Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s voice rang from the aisle next to you. “Am I interrupting?”

This forced your eyes to shoot open in surprise.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Maggie muttered with a half-smirk as she pulled back, retreating deeper into her seat. Her eyes were still shining from this seemingly top-secret information that she had to squeeze out of you.

“Huh?” Jungkook looked at the girl behind you. Then, beaming as he realised what she was getting at, he asked, “oh, were you talking about me?”

“Not at all,” you said, locking your tablet and putting it in the back pocket of the seat in front of you. Jungkook wasn’t sure which of his questions you were answering. You asked, “what’s up?”

“It’s Hoseok,” he said. “He’s had a headache since before we boarded. He says he’s fine, but the veins on his temples are very prominent, so I think he could use some medicine.”

You grew visibly alarmed as he spoke, your mind racing through scenarios of what to do. There weren’t a lot of options, considering you were thousands of feet in the air right now.

“He hasn’t taken any?” you asked slowly.

“No,” Jungkook replied. He reminded you, “he says he’s fine.”

You nodded – this was Hoseok in a nutshell. Unless he collapsed abruptly, he was in perfect health.

“Of course,” you said. “Give me a moment, I have Advil in my bag.”

Jungkook patiently waited while you stood up from your aisle seat and grabbed your backpack from the overhead compartment. He was completely unaware of the big grins on Luna and Maggie’s faces as the girls watched him watch you.

They didn’t know why they bothered asking you anything. You were both painfully obvious.

“Here,” you said, handing him the package of medicine. “Maybe I should go over there—”

“I got it. Thanks,” he said with a good-natured smile. After a beat of silence, during which the two of you just watched each other and Luna had to bite her lip to stay quiet, Jungkook added, “get some rest. We have big plans in Amsterdam.”

You raised your eyebrows. “We? As in, you and me?”

You could see Luna through your peripherals, pretending to scratch something near her eye to hide her ridiculous beaming.

“Yes. I made a promise, remember?” Jungkook said.

You didn’t, not right away. Then the taxi ride in Paris returned to your memory.

“Oh, the bikes?” you asked, feeling almost ridiculous now. You had mentioned Amsterdam as a dream destination back then, but you didn’t think he’d consider it important enough to remember. “We don’t have to—”

“We’ll do it,” he cut you off. “I’ll come pick you up from your room when we get to the hotel.”

He made sure to leave you no option to disagree, so, you swallowed and nodded your head. “Okay. Sure.”

He gave Luna a quick smile, nodded at Maggie, then winked at you, and walked past, intentionally bringing his hand over your waist as you stood in the aisle.

You sat down, your skin on fire, but you naively hoped it did not show on your face. Really, it didn’t have to. Luna was, on a certain level, a psychic. Or, at least, hyper-aware of her surroundings. Maggie, on the other hand, just reacted to social cues, albeit not always quickly unless they were obvious. And, this time, they were obvious.

“Romantic,” Luna commented.

“Why bikes?” was Maggie’s addition to the conversation. “I say rent out a carriage. With white horses.”

Luna jumped in, “and white doves!”

“Alright, shut up,” you shot back, shaking your head to fight off another smile as the two girls nodded at each other conspiratorially.

This was ridiculous. But as Luna and Maggie chuckled next to you, you found yourself relaxing as well. They hadn’t scolded you for being unreasonable or evading a decision about Reconnaissance, or behaving stupidly altogether—even though you thought you deserved that. Instead, the girls just seemed excited for you.

Because of their good mood, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about the meaningfulness of going bike riding after all that had happened on the bus last night.

And, in all truth, you felt excited as well.

As Jungkook unzipped his suitcase in the hotel room he shared with Yoongi—who had already finished unpacking his equipment and had successfully occupied the only desk in the room—he realised two things.

The first was that he hadn’t packed enough black shirts and would have to wear white today, like a—he didn’t even know what. He always wore black.

And the second was that he felt a newfound motivation. Last night, as he returned to his bunk, stumbling over his own feet and thoughts of you, he had felt, simply, deflated. But today was different. He decided that if he were to take anything from last night, it would be this: you didn’t push him away.

And now he couldn’t give up on you.

So, groaning, he changed into a white shirt and glanced at the mirror by the door before leaving. He saw no difference in his appearance as he brought a hand through his hair, letting it fall in shaggy curls over his face. But then as he reached for the bottle of cologne in his toiletry bag, he saw that his hands were shaking. He was nervous.

He could remember an almost identical moment seven years ago when he took you out on your first date, not knowing back then that it would lead to a three-year relationship with a very bitter end.

To be clear, it was the bitter end that he hadn’t foreseen. Because even seven years ago, as he frantically double-checked your dinner reservations with a carefulness that was very unlike him, he knew he wouldn’t go on another first date after that night.

It was funny how he managed to be wrong and right at the same time.

This felt like a first date again. But it was still with you.

Seven years ago, you two had ended up missing your dinner reservations after all, because you’d gone to see a movie first—some romantic drama with a tragic end that you both pretended not to have cried at—and by the time it was over, it had started to rain.

You had tried to run, but you never made it past the park across from the restaurant. You had ended up in a gazebo in a clearing surrounded by willow trees and spent that night listening to the rain and falling in love.

“You okay over there?” Yoongi called out, bringing Jungkook back down from his memories.

“Hmm?” he turned to look at the older member. “Yeah. Why?”

“Been staring at your reflection for the past five minutes,” Yoongi said, taking off his headphones and resting them around his neck. “Is this an existential crisis or something I shouldn’t even bother asking about?”

Jungkook smiled softly. “Probably a little bit of both.”

“Alright.” Yoongi felt himself smile in response. “Stay safe.”

The younger boy nodded, took a deep breath, and glanced at his reflection one last time. Unconsciously, he brought his lip ring between his teeth and held it there for a second, before finally exiting the room.

He walked two doors down and knocked on yours. You opened it almost right away, but his heart still managed to do twelve and a half somersaults while he waited.

And then, as soon as you smiled and opened the door wider, inviting him inside, he could tell he was so fucked that he wasn’t sure if he could even fully grasp the extent of it.

You were wearing a loose pale blue shirt with a dark blue sports bra peeking through, paired with black biker shorts. The outfit seemed fitting for the occasion, but it made him lean against the door frame to avoid losing his balance. His mind was overflowing with thoughts and memories of you, to the point where he was sure they would start leaking if he opened his mouth.

Thankfully, you spoke up first as you went over to grab your backpack—smaller than the one you carried your belongings in during flights—from your bed. He found himself wondering how many bags you’d brought to Europe in a desperate attempt to distract himself from his pestilent memories.

“How’s Hoseok?” you asked.

Somewhere deep in his mind, Jungkook recalled walking the older member to his room when they got to the hotel, because as soon as Hoseok’s headache subsided, he really struggled to stay awake. But now, as he watched you move around the room—literally not doing anything other than gathering your phone and the hotel keycard—Jungkook found himself unable to form a single coherent sentence.

You paused and looked at him questionably.

He figured he’d better speak up instead of standing here like a complete idiot.

“He, uh—he’s—you know, he’s, uh, taking a nap,” he managed to say, mentally kicking himself. He sounded more composed when he wasn’t speaking. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest to get it together. “He said he’s fine. I think he meant it this time. Some colour returned to his face.”

“That’s good,” you said with a thoughtful nod. “He’s probably tired now. I’ll text him to let me know when he’s awake.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed, listening to you but only half-hearing everything as you walked around your room, looking for something.

You weren’t sharing this room with anyone, but not by choice. Your room happened to be used to store everything that was too dangerous to keep on the bus for several nights during the stop in Amsterdam. 75% of the space here was filled with boxes of instruments and stage clothes.

Now you stood in the very centre of the room and somehow managed to look so effortlessly captivating that Jungkook wouldn’t have noticed if a robber jumped in and carried all the furniture out in comic slow-motion. He brought his hands over his face while you weren’t looking, but it did little to slow his heartbeat down.

“So, anyway,” he said with a strained voice, “are you ready?”

You bit your lip—why, why, why, had he not died enough times since he came here?—as you hesitated. “Yeah, but, as I’ve said before—”

“Then let’s go, please,” he cut you off shakily before you could assure him that he didn’t have to do this.

He thought he did. Although not to win the bet.

He had to do this because he knew you wanted this, and he’d rather throw himself into one of the canals than miss the chance to make at least one of your dreams come true.

He also had to get out of your hotel room, because being in control of himself was starting to seem like a theoretical idea more than an actual mechanism that he could use.

While you locked your room behind you, Jungkook turned to see Sid and Jude exit the elevator at the end of the hallway. Sid noticed him and stopped, punching Jude on the chest to get his attention. Already in the process of swinging back at him, Jude lifted his eyes and caught sight of Jungkook, too. Even from across the hall, Jungkook could see the impressed smiles on their faces when they noticed you next to him.

He looked away immediately, but still felt a sobering sensation in his chest. Once again, he repeated to himself that he wasn’t doing this for the bet.

However, he couldn’t help but doubt if that made any difference. What he was doing now still counted towards winning the bet.

But he knew he didn’t have the strength to avoid you or to justify the bet to himself in any other way. He’d given in last night. And he was barely holding himself together right now.

This was it. He’d made a choice.

It was a choice he should have made four years ago, instead of watching you walk away. Instead of thinking he could drown out the bitterness of you leaving with drinks that Sid, Jude, and Minjun served him.

It was you. It should have always been you.

Fortunately, his friends had already gone to their hotel room when you looked up, so you didn’t have to see them.

And, when the two of you found yourselves alone in the elevator, Sid and Jude were the last thing on Jungkook’s mind.

He felt you glance at him, but avoided meeting your eyes. He kept biting his lip, acutely aware of how long the ride down from the tenth floor should take and all the things that you could do during it.

“White looks good on you,” you commented, looking away from him.

Reflexively, he looked down at his shirt. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” you said. Then, glancing at him again, you added, “somehow brings out your eyes.”

This made his smile ridiculously big, the reaction amplified by the casual tone of your voice. You sounded like you’d just pointed out to someone that their shoes were untied – a helpful observation, nothing more.

“Ah,” he said, unable to resist. “Brings out my eyes, does it?”

You shot him a glare from the corner of your eye.

“I take it back,” you said. “White looks awful on you, never wear it again.”

He laughed, but did not lose his footing as he teased, “well, if it bothers you that much, I can take it off.”

You started to smile—an automatic reaction when you heard him laugh—but then widened your eyes instead.

“Please don’t do that in such a public place,” you said.

The alarm in your voice amused him endlessly. In your defence, you knew him well enough to know that he would actually do it if you challenged him.

“Oh?” he inquired, leaning closer with a playful grin. “Where would you like me to undress for you, then?”

You glanced at him and then very ceremoniously looked away. “That’s n-not what I meant.”

He laughed again and you were relieved when the elevator doors opened in the lobby a moment later, because you were certain that the warmth in your chest was starting to radiate off of you.

Jungkook wanted to rent bicycles for the whole day, but you convinced him that you’d both already be tired after a few hours. He knew you had a point, but he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible and he was fine if bikes were, really, the reason for it.

In the end, you agreed on three hours, which was already too much as both of you began to complain about your thighs hurting after the first hour and a half.

But Amsterdam was beautiful, and it made the ache worth it.

Subtle tinges of decay and dampness, along with the stunning trees, still in miraculous full bloom despite it being mid-September, all tickled your senses as you and Jungkook rode your bikes through the streets of Amsterdam. The canals sparkled on your left while beautiful buildings lined the street on your right, tourists coursing back and forth down the pavement.

The wheel of the bike felt rough against your palms, and you wished you had brought gloves, but the sights, the smells, and even the noise of the crowds made it easier to endure the slight discomfort.

When you caught up to Jungkook, the two of you exchanged a glance. Both of your eyes were glittering, smiles widening, your hair blowing in the wind.

You realised that the sights here looked remarkably like the postcards your uncle had brought you. But being here felt completely different from what you’d expected when you looked at the cards.

Wordlessly, Jungkook smirked and challenged you to a race. Laughing as you sped up to catch up to him again, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for just a second, savouring it all.

The feeling in your chest right now was something you could never capture in a postcard to bring home.

Another hour later, the two of you returned your bicycles and Jungkook persuaded you to get some ice cream. You had to agree. At that point, you were tired and a little dizzy, and the sun was too bright to do anything but attempt to cool yourselves down.

You sat down on a bench by the canal and Jungkook noticed the almost constant smile on your face. He felt a surge of ideas of all that he could do in hopes of making you smile like this again.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” he asked after a minute, looking back at the canal. “You and me.”

You looked at him. “What do you mean? In Amsterdam?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Back in university. When you used to look at those postcards above your desk, did you ever imagine us being here?”

You blinked, surprised once again by how much of your conversation in Paris and how much of your life from four years ago he remembered.

“You remember the postcards,” you said softly.

“Of course,” he said, suddenly turning solemn. “I’m sorry I never asked what they meant to you.”

“No, it’s—” you stopped in the middle of shaking your head. Then chose to just answer his previous question instead, “I don’t know. Back then, I think I imagined us everywhere.”

He smiled as he adjusted to the irregular beating of his heart. It was a new constant when he was with you. And it was a health hazard, he knew. And still, he’d missed it.

“Was I in a band in your imagination?” he asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said, pausing while he laughed so hard that he nearly doubled over. You didn’t think your response deserved this reaction, but it drew a smile from you regardless. “And I wasn’t your manager. We were normal people, doing normal things.”

He stopped laughing and looked at you, a slight furrow in his brow. “Wait. Are we not?”

You gave him a look. “Are we?”

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug as he took a bite of his waffle cone before the ice cream could fully melt. “Who’s to say what’s normal?”

You continued to watch him, several classes of statistics and standard deviation under your belt. “Do you want an honest answer?”

“No,” Jungkook said without hesitation. He looked ahead as he spoke, “I like to think that ‘being normal’ is just a construct.”

“Well, it is, but—”

“Don’t do it,” he interrupted. “If you mention statistics, I will—respectfully—toss you right into that canal.” He was the one who paused here as your smile widened at his threat. After a moment, he continued, “let me romanticise this. In my head, we are normal people.”

You agreed with a noncommittal shake of your head. “Okay, sure.”

“To be honest,” he said then, “I never imagined us here.”

“No?”

“In my mind, we were always in our little world. The campus, our dorms, our family homes,” he explained, gesturing with his hand as he listed the places that the two of you had spent years in. “That’s as far as I imagined us.”

You swallowed an unexpected lump in your throat and felt it go down heavily, catching on your trachea, stumbling around your lungs, and forcing you to clear your throat as you still tasted something bitter on your tongue.

It was a nice day. You didn’t want to rip open old wounds and pour salt on them just to see what would happen.

“Well, you’re not far off,” you said, brushing invisible dust off your shorts and focusing on your ice cream for a moment before you added, “that’s as far as we went.”

Jungkook sensed the discomfort in your words, but did not understand the cause.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “We’re here, aren’t we? The furthest I imagined us was, maybe, 100 kilometres south of your mum’s house. By the sea. And now we’re in fucking Amsterdam.”

He was right, you’d made it so far. But even though you felt your shoulders relax a little, you still insisted, “it’s different now.”

“How is it different?” he questioned further.

“Well, for one, we’re not in university anymore,” you said obviously enough. “No campus to come back to.”

“Bless that. I wouldn’t want to go back now.”

“And we’re not together anymore.”

Cringing at the unnecessary addition, Jungkook managed to say, “but we are.”

You looked down as you finished your ice cream and kicked some pebbles with the soles of your sneakers. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” he replied, not giving up as he looked at you for a moment before stumbling a bit quietly, a bit awkwardly, “but, um. We are together. Still.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, but looked away after barely a minute, frightened by how much of your shared history you could see there.

You couldn’t do this. Five minutes in the dark bus, with no one but the two of you in your bunk, was one thing. You could pretend it didn’t mean anything, even though his taste still lingered in your mouth.

But this conversation was not something that you could pretend to forget in five minutes. This was four years of silence. Of locked doors, deleted pictures, and wet pillowcases.  

Four years of forced solitude, tall, thick walls, and strict boundaries.

Some of them you’d crossed.

But now you were here. And you couldn’t cross this one. You couldn’t reminisce with him while ignoring the weight of your break-up.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. “You know what? You’re right. We’re as together now as we were back then.”

Jungkook felt his muscles stiffen. The last bites of his ice cream were completely tasteless.

“What—what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, not blinking as he watched you.

He was cold all of a sudden, he realised. Sitting right under the warm sun of September, and shivering. He suspected that ice cream had very little to do with this.

“You know what it means,” you replied, unaware of how much your vague response affected him because you did not look at him.

It felt like he was speeding down the streets of Amsterdam on his bicycle, and suddenly, someone poked a stick into the wheel, forcing him to fly off the bike and land on something very sharp. Something very confusing. Very painful.

“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I do.”

You looked up finally, more out of confusion than anything else. You weren’t sure if he was pretending, playing another stupid game, or if he genuinely did not understand.

He was watching you with a frown, clenching his jaw harder with each passing second that you did not respond. He genuinely did not understand.

“It means,” you said, “that this was what our dates used to be like. Like two co-workers trying to have a meaningful conversation.”

Jungkook didn’t know which word to react to first: ‘co-workers’ or ‘trying’, so he just went quiet.

“And, at what point in our relationship,” he asked after a minute, “did you figure that was how you felt?”

You heard the bitterness in his voice and felt your irritation grow. He had some audacity to question you like this after the way your relationship ended.

“It wasn’t how I felt,” you said, nearly spitting the word out. “It’s how it was.”

He scoffed. “Don’t try to make this objective. It’s clearly just your own perception.”

Your eyebrows rose involuntarily, your heart reacting to his words before your mind could.

“How could it be?” you argued, clearly in disbelief that he had a different point of view. “We barely talked. The longest conversation we had, at that point, was when you had to describe the fucking police station that you were in after you got arrested.”

“At what point?” he asked again, frustration even more evident in his voice.

“I don’t know,” you shot back, exasperated. “A few months before we broke up, maybe? We weren’t spending any time together anymore. And if we were, then your asshole friends were there with us. Everyone who knew us could tell we were going to break up eventually.”

Looking away, Jungkook squeezed his lips together, running his tongue over the inside of his teeth. His entire body seemed to go numb and then suddenly tense up again.

He didn’t know how you got here, how you reached this conversation, but he had a vague feeling that you were meant to talk about this sooner or later.

It wasn’t easy, though. He had to force himself to keep looking at you, force himself to speak, to say the things he’d only managed to put into song lyrics until this point.

“I couldn’t,” he finally said.

You frowned. “What?”

“I couldn’t tell,” he said, a self-deprecating expression on his face. He continued speaking while intentionally gazing into the distance, “you may find that shocking to believe, but until the day you said we shouldn’t be together anymore, I thought we were in love.”

“You literally just said that you could barely imagine us outside of my mum’s house,” you retorted.

“That’s because I never wanted us to be anywhere else!” he snapped, looking at you with a level of anger that you’d never seen in all the years you’d known him. “I liked what we had.”

“We had nothing!” you argued, your hands in the air. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some tourists doing double-takes as they walked by. You were far too engrossed in the conversation to control your volume. “You went out every night and caused a scene every time you brought your friends over. You went along with them when they tried to kill themselves drag racing, despite my protests. You didn’t even—”

“I named my car after you!” Jungkook interjected, even though the car wasn’t, technically, his. It had been a gift from Sid, so all of his friends could race together, but he thought his point still stood. He used the car, and he wanted it to have your name.

“Right,” you acknowledged his—largely pointless—interruption, “and I’m sure that would have been very meaningful if you hadn’t crashed it on your first fucking drive. Like I told you that you would.”

“Yeah, well.” He moved his jaw, poking his cheek with his tongue. “At least I loved you until the very end.”

That was a lie, the past tense he’d used. But he looked at you and the fire in your eyes intimidated him. He knew you wouldn’t believe him if he told you he’d never stopped being in love with you.

“For your information, I didn’t break up with you because I stopped loving you,” you said with an angry huff. Your following explanation seemed to rip the bandages you’d carefully glued on the gaping wounds in your chest. “I broke up with you because I felt like you stopped loving me.”

He felt a sudden chill, and—immediately—frostbite. As though he’d gone out dancing in a blizzard the night before, and the blood in his veins had frozen, a bewildering cold gripping his chest.

You thought he had stopped loving you.

Jungkook swallowed hard as he listened and couldn’t open his mouth to reply. Couldn’t lift his eyes off the ground.

He didn’t know how long he stayed completely still, alternating between seemingly looking at himself from the outside, and listening to the deafening screeching inside of his mind.

He was paralysed when he felt you stand up from the bench. When he saw your shadow move away and, eventually, disappear.

You hadn’t said another word and he remembered how familiar this feeling was.

He remembered standing in his dorm room, speechless and angry with himself, after you stormed out because he had told you he already had plans; he was going out with Sid, Jude, and Minjun again—racing. Or drinking. Or one after the other, not necessarily in the same order.

Maybe you were right.

He had stopped acting like your boyfriend long before he actually stopped being one.

Because the two of you had wordlessly agreed to never discuss your relationship or your break-up again, four years have passed without any closure whatsoever—and only now he realised that he wasn’t the one who was hurt.

He realised how much he’d hurt you.

All this time, he was insecure about the end of your relationship because you were the one who broke up with him. You were the one who left.

He never looked for reasons within himself. He stupidly, blindly, thought he hadn’t done anything that warranted this. He thought you just didn’t want him anymore. He thought these things happened sometimes.

He never thought he was the one who made that happen.

He didn’t know what he was doing now.

How could he even attempt to get back together with you without making up for his mistakes? Making up for his unforgivable ignorance?

He’d apologise—he’d have to, he could feel his entire skin itching the longer he sat there, not looking for you—but would it mean anything, if you didn’t believe that he changed?

Had he changed?

He was sitting here, alone, after all. Because of a bet that he’d made with the same people who broke you up the first time.

Suddenly, Jungkook looked up. He knew how to answer all of his questions.

He had to act, first of all, instead of passively regretting everything he’d done and hadn’t done.

“The bet is over,” Jungkook declared as soon as he threw open the door of Sid’s hotel room, not bothering to knock.

He wanted to get back together with you, without any underlying conditions, secrets, or bets.

Just you and him.

All three of his friends were here and they were, understandably, surprised. Although Minjun’s shock quickly turned into pride—and Jungkook felt his heart flutter. He needed this.

“What?” Jude asked, poking his head out of Sid’s bathroom and sniffling before he brought his hand over his nose. “You’re back together?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook replied firmly. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

Sid walked out of the bathroom next—Jungkook had no interest in what they were doing in there—with some sort of a mix of a smirk and a scowl on his face.

“Well, you can’t just decide that,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel even though they seemed dry, “can you?”

“Uh, yes, I can,” Jungkook argued, feeling foolish to be having this conversation. It seemed as silly now as it had before, when he had returned from Paris and Sid forcefully prolonged the bet. “I made the bet—”

“We made it, too,” Sid cut him off, his voice stern. He treated this like a legitimate deal, a legally binding contract almost. “And we don’t think it can be over just because you’re afraid of losing.”

“I’m not afraid of losing,” he said and for a moment, he was surprised to realise that he truly meant it. His bike seemed so trivial when compared to all that he could lose if he won it back. “I’m just not fucking doing this with you anymore.”

“Well, then you lose by default,” Sid shrugged. “I keep the bike.”

“Actually, we keep the—” Jude was interjecting, but Jungkook took a large step towards Sid, stopping just inches from his face. It caused Jude to stop talking immediately.

“You don’t keep anything,” Jungkook snarled, emphasising every syllable, despite seeing how little it meant to Sid. “If the bet is over, there’s no winners or losers.”

“But the bet isn’t over,” Sid countered with a self-assured grin. “Not unless all involved parties agree to it. Right, Minjun?”

Jungkook glanced at the only remaining person in this room.

Minjun sounded uncomfortable as he began, “well, to be honest—”

“Careful now,” Sid cut in sharply. “You’re supposed to enforce the rules of the bet.”

Of course, what he really meant was, you’re supposed to obey me.

Jungkook saw Minjun hesitate.

“Look, man, it’s a bet,” he said. Jungkook felt himself exhale in immeasurable relief. He had someone on his side. He had a friend. Minjun continued, “it’s literally just a game. If he doesn’t want to do it anymore, then—”

“Then tough shit, isn’t it?” Sid’s tone was menacing. “Considering he’s going to have to do it anyway.”

“It was stupid—”

Sid was so indecently unfazed that he was practically inviting a punch in the face as he replied, “he shouldn’t have agreed to it if it was stupid.”

His sneer made Jungkook perk up.

“I didn’t agree to shit. It was you—” he started to say, then cut himself off. He did agree to it. But he couldn’t help but still feel manipulated. Tricked.

Likely for the first time in his life, Jungkook could see—with bitter clarity—that these people were bad for him. But he’d called them friends for so long, he’d done so much with them, never really facing any long-term consequences, that he never even questioned it.

Until now.

Until he realised that there was a long-term consequence to his friendship with Sid: your break-up.

“I’m not doing this,” Jungkook finally finished.

“Not doing what?” Sid asked with a laugh that seemed louder than usual, strengthened by whatever he’d done in the bathroom before he got interrupted. “If you back out, you lose. The bike goes to me—”

“And me,” Jude interjected. Jungkook was this close to knocking them both out, but he knew it’d bring him exactly zero extra points with his band or with you.

“—what’s not clear to you about this?” Sid finished, ignoring Jude and the glare on Jungkook’s face.

“I won the first bet,” Jungkook hissed, “so the bike is, technically, mine, but that’s—”

“Technically, you didn’t,” Sid interrupted, pouting to convey fake-pity. “And you won’t win this one, either. That’s clearly why you’re trying so hard to get out of this. It’s what you do. You never fight if you see that you won’t immediately succeed.”

It stung – because he knew that Sid was right. But it also felt unfair, because Sid was the one who made it impossible for Jungkook to succeed at anything unless he excelled at it on the first try. Sid simply couldn’t voluntarily surround himself with people who were better than him, so he put in great effort to make sure they weren’t.

“I’m not—I’m just realising how fucking immature you are,” Jungkook retorted, trying to control the volume of his voice as he knew his frustration only benefitted Sid.

Sid laughed and leaned in even closer—his nose nearly brushed against Jungkook. Once again, he felt irritated that despite barely being shorter than Sid, he was still treated like the last living hobbit.

“Oh, the little baby thinks I’m immature because he realises that we’re not here to cater to his wishes,” Sid taunted. If the edges of Jungkook’s vision weren’t so red, he might have pointed out the irony to him; Sid was the one who made a living by forcing people to favour him. “Maybe you should have considered that before making the bet. You’ve never won against me. And you never will.”

“Sid,” Minjun cut in again. “Let it go. You can have your fun at someone else’s expense.”

He pulled something out of his pocket, and Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat when he recognised the keys to his Katana. Sid had a similar reaction, except his surprise quickly turned to disdain.

Who does he think he is, Sid’s scorn seemed to be asking, to defy me?

“You might want to think twice about it, Minjun,” Sid said out loud, his voice dangerously calm. He pulled away from Jungkook to give Minjun a warning look. “You think this is a funny little game, but I bet it won’t be so funny when it has very real consequences.”

Jungkook turned his head in time to witness Minjun’s face drain of colour, but he couldn’t comprehend this reaction—not in a way that made sense, at least. His only assumption was outrageous.

Would Sid really take this so far? Would he really exaggerate the significance of this bet so much?

“What—what is he talking about?” Jungkook asked Minjun. “Your parents?”

Minjun simply hung his head, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip on the keys in his hand. He didn’t say anything, and Jungkook knew it was true.

Sid was threatening Minjun’s family—the jobs of his parents, both of whom depended on Sid’s mother. Without her, they would still have enough money to survive, even keep and maintain all of their real estate, but Sid’s mother had the power to blacklist them from the industry. And she would, Jungkook knew. She’d do anything for her only child.

Sid was using Minjun’s parents as leverage for something as stupid as a fucking bet that Minjun did not even make. A bet that was never supposed to even get this far.

That was the point he was proving.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He recognised what this was really about, these tireless attempts to establish superiority.

Sid was the great-grandson of one of the top conglomerates in the country. The only downside to his life was that his inheritance came from his mother’s side of the family. As a result, he was taken less seriously among his family—because the Old Money world that he lived in functioned only within their favourite -isms: sexism and racism.

Sid was no one in the eyes of his relatives. So, he was going to do everything to make sure he was someone here.

“That’s what I thought,” Sid barked at Minjun’s submissive silence. He turned to Jungkook. “So, what’s it going to be? You admit your defeat now, or do you want to delay it? I’m generous enough to wait. I know I’ll win in the end. I always do.”

He always had a point to prove to an audience that listened. And his audience was here, in this room.

But Jungkook was done listening.

“You know what?” he said. He glanced at Minjun—who stood there helplessly and miserably—before looking back at Sid and spitting, “I’m not going to fucking entertain you anymore. Fuck you.”

Without waiting for either of them to respond, Jungkook stormed out of Sid’s room, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t even consider the possible complaints from other hotel guests who probably heard him throw the door open fifteen minutes ago, and then leave again in an equally furious manner.

Blind to everything around him, he marched over to your room and knocked on your door before he lost the angry courage.

He needed you. He’d always had.

You appeared surprised when you opened the door and saw him in the hall.

“Hey,” he said, looking somehow very small, despite his frame filling the entire doorway. “Can I come in? We should talk.”

You watched him for a minute.

The two of you had just had your first fight about your relationship since you started working together and decided to leave everything that had happened between you in the past.

Neither of you knew if this argument was a good thing (closure?) or a bad thing (a final fight in your long list of fights).

But maybe today had to be the day you found out.

“Yeah,” you decided, stepping aside to let him in. “We should.”

chapter title credits: bad omens, “the letdown”

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[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader)

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) Word Count: 14,842 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, guns, near-death experiences, slow-burn romance, drug addiction, death, and some MAJOR FLUFF! Spoilers: none, as Criminal Minds has been out for literal decades so don't get mad.

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer, and one time he says it back in the same fashion.

This man has been eating my brain alive for the past few weeks and I know I'm late but damn he deserves all the appreciation he gets. This was just a silly little idea I had because I'm the kind of person to get obsessed quickly and can't move on until I write it out of my system. Seeing how long this turned out, I have split each moment into six smaller, digestible chapters as linked below. Enjoy xx

Full Story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring.

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way.

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words.

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that.

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips.

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.'

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins.

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky.

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it.

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

~

It became a casual thing, for you to comment on how wonderful Dr. Spencer Reid was. Every day in the office, whenever you travelled to cases, even out in the field, sometimes in not-so-great situations.

It was only ever once, but you always managed to find something to say, 'You are a wonder, Dr Reid,' to him. Sometimes it was his full name, sometimes just doctor. Sometimes, he was just Spencer. Apart from JJ, you were the only one who ever really called him by his first name. Oddly enough for him, he liked it when he was just Spencer, not the Boy Genius or freak or computer.

But the next time you told him that and it meant something to him was ten months after he ended his drug addiction.

He sat at his desk in the bullpen finishing some paperwork, or at least attempting to. They'd just gotten back from a long and exhausting case and his brain (the very thing he knew he could always rely on) refused to coordinate with his hands and eyes. The information he wished to write out felt jammed at his fingers tips, appeared blurry in his vision.

'Gosh,' he breathed out, leaning back in his seat defeated as he rubbed at his tired eyes. No doubt black bags sagged beneath them.

It had been a long, exhausting case. The team had gone to Dallas to find a serial killer who'd been leaving a trail of dead doctors and pharmacists over the span of months which had suddenly turned into weeks, then days once the team joined the case.

The unsub had spiralled, devolved so to say, alluding to a psychotic break. But when they'd found him, he was not the malicious, sadistic person they'd first expected. Spencer was the first on the scene and had instead found a young man in his early twenties, not much younger than himself. All he'd wanted was some off-market narcotic that took away the pain from the physical abuse he received from his father.

And while Spencer's trauma was not the same, he couldn't help but see the parallels. When he'd looked the young man in the eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. All he saw was himself, drowning in his own trauma, his own fear, his own pain.

Spencer scoped the bullpen, suddenly noticing the silence. Not a single person was left. He then looked at his watch - half past ten. He hadn't noticed people leaving whatsoever. Not surprising considering his current state, his current condition.

Spencer slowly reached down to the bottom drawer of his desk, a sudden urge coursing through him to do so. Slowly again, almost hesitantly, he pulled it open and leafed through the many spare manilla folders that sat oddly in there until he reached the bottom.

It was just one vial, but just the mere sight of it sent relief rushing through Spencer. Dilaudid. He gently cradled it up to his eyes, admiring how the glass doors of the entrance became obscured as he looked through the transparent but murky liquid. After this case, what he wouldn't give to have a needle right now. Just one hit-

'Well, if it isn't Dr. Spencer Reid burning the midnight oil.'

Spencer almost dropped the vial as he scrambled to shove it deep into his pant pocket just as you appeared out of nowhere from the conference room.

'Sorry,' you said, an apologetic smile already on your lips. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's okay,' he replied as casually as possible. It was one thing to nearly be caught out by your colleague that you had an illegal narcotic you used to have an addiction for in your hand, but another when that colleague is one you've admired since the day you met. 'I was lost in thought, anyways.'

'Well just as well then. I can only imagine how depthless your brain must go with all that knowledge crammed in there.' You walked down the stairs to the floor of the bullpen and walked to him. You were still in your clothes from the past twenty-four hours, and your light makeup looked like it was lifting off your face like a second skin. Even your unrelenting smile seemed to sag with exhaustion.

Spencer straightened up in his seat, suddenly concerned. 'You okay, (Y/N)? You look-'

'Like trash?' you finished as you pulled up a chair of your own and sat in front of him. 'I have no doubt.'

Spencer looked behind your back into the conference room, his eyebrows furrowing when he spotted stacks of folders and loose paperwork spread across the table. 'That all yours?'

You looked back to the mess of words and paper you'd just escaped and sighed dramatically. 'Oh, yeah. Seems like the longer the case, the more paperwork you have to do. Poor trees.'

'Yeah...' Spencer found it odd how much paperwork you had to get through. Even he didn't have that much to get through. But before he could question you about it, your soft voice filled the damning void that surrounded him.

'How are you feeling, you know, after this case?'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Don't give me that,' you say, your smile now replaced by a seriousness Spencer only saw on you when you were making an arrest or in really dire situations. You've worked together for almost three years now, he knew all the faces you pulled, all of your likes and dislikes, how you liked your coffee only after you've completed one task for the day to prove you can survive without it but choose not to.

He knows you, so it should not be surprising that you know him just as well.

'The moment we found out the unsub's objective, you've been a little... off.'

'Well, it shouldn't be surprising considering that was me just ten months ago,' he said matter-of-factly, pulling back into his shell, putting up his guard. 'I mean, if Hotch hadn't have found out about it, that could've been me-'

'No it wouldn't have.'

Spencer scoffed, but not in a demeaning manner. He just didn't believe you for a moment because he could see the facts, the statistics, in his head. 'Over 45% percent of addicts relapse at least twice. This is without the intervention or support by health care clinics and families and friends, and this case just proved that. So, yes, it could've been-'

'But it wasn't,' you intervened again, your voice echoing like soft thunder through the empty office. It gave you presence, forcing Spencer to look at you, like really look at you, and face what you were about to say.

'You had help and support from people that care about you, Spence,' you continued, sitting forward in your seat. 'And I don't care about the statistics, you're not one of them. You're your own person and you can determine where you add value in life, not by some... statistically-informed percentage prediction... thing.'

That drew a laugh out him, the quiet but sudden sound surprising him slightly. 'Stastically-informed percentage prediction, huh?'

'Shut up,' you grumbled and playfully punched his shoulder. When you both calmed down, you continued. 'When I realised who we were looking for, for a moment I kind of got scared.'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow 'Scared?'

You nodded. 'The truth is that... when you were kidnapped and... you had to endure all that pain alone... I was terrified. We all were. Even when we found you, I was terrified. Because I knew you would never be the same, and not that it's your problem, but I knew in that moment that I would never forgive myself for not finding you sooner. For not going with you and JJ to the farm.'

Tears welled up in your eyes and Spencer immediately leant forward. To do what, he didn't know, he just needed you to know he was there for you, like you always were for him.

'I'm sorry,' you mutter, blinking the tears away before they could fall. 'Your trauma is not my own. I have no right to express my guilt.'

'There's nothing to feel guilty for,' he said, reaching out slowly with his hands, the ones that slightly shook as he laid them on your own.

To his relief, you smiled. It wasn't full, but it was there. 'You're a horrible liar, Spencer Reid.' That brought some laughter out of you both, lightening the suffocating air of the office.

'But even when we found out about you and the dilaudid,' you continued, pulling yourself together, if only to let Spencer know your true thoughts. 'I wasn't even mad.'

A large lump formed in Spencer's throat, and he had a hard time swallowing it along with the threat of tears that burned behind his amber eyes. 'You... You weren't?'

It was the mixture of surprise and hope that pulled at your heart, that made you feel obligated to keep speaking. 'Why should I have been? I was not the one who was tortured mentally and physically by a split-personality murderer; and who also witnesses the darkest, most ugliest aspects of humanity every single day of his life. It was not my place to judge how you hold onto your own humanity.'

Your eyes until then had never left his, but they flickered downwards then, and Spencer froze at where your gaze landed.

It only lasted a moment before your eyes returned to his, and it startled him the lack of sympathy he finds there, but instead warmth. 'It is still not my place to judge,' you said, twisting your hands so they could clasp his fully. 'All I know is that... you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. So much stronger than me, JJ, Pen, Emily - heck, I'd say you're even stronger than Derek. But not Hotch, Gideon, and Rossi, though. Then again, no one is.'

You both chuckled at that, and all the tension in his body seemed to dissipate at the sound. So light and airy, it was what he imagined heaven sounded like.

'The point is,' you continued, giving his hands a squeeze, 'you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded and conflicted within himself. He felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. And a great urge to suddenly engulf you in a hug started itching his limbs, which was weird because he didn't care much physical affection, or affection in general. But before he could decide what he wanted to do, you decided for him.

You gave his hands one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. The absence of your touch left him cold as he followed you as you went back into the conference room to pack up. Surprisingly it didn't take you long until you came back out, your coat and bag in hand.

'Don't stay up too long, now,' you said as you passed him by, your smile so radiant it was almost as if you weren't crying just a few minutes before. 'We've got a long day ahead.'

As soon as the elevator door closed on you, he pulled out the vial of dilaudid and stared it down. It was like it was taunting him, sitting idly, innocently, in his palm, as if it knew he desperately wanted it, needed it.

'...you are stronger than you give yourself credit for... you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

For some reason, though, he suddenly didn't need it. The fire, the urge, the want and reliance for it - he was suddenly weightless with clarity, if only for a moment.

Spencer chucked the vial in the dumpster outside the office when he left. It was hard, but he did it. He knew he wasn't cured, that there was still a long road ahead. But it was a start.

The next day when he came into the office, Derek was the first to comment on his haggard appearance.

'Seriously man,' he said, trailing Spencer out of the break room, 'you look like a ghoul. Did you sleep at all last night.'

'I was here late last night doing paperwork,' he explained, sitting himself and his coffee down at his desk. 'You should go see (y/n), she probably looks a little worse for wear herself from staying late last night, too.'

'Oh, she stayed late too, did she?'

'It's not like that,' Spencer insisted, swatting at Derek pathetically. 'She had a mountain of paperwork to finish of her own.'

'Y/N?' Emily said as she walked by with JJ, identical coffees in their hands. 'She finished her paperwork at about the same time I did.'

'Yeah, we were walking out together before she turned back into the office. Said she had to talk with Hotch,' JJ said.

'I remember that,' Spencer added. 'You guys said goodnight to me on your way out.' Not that he had responded, he suddenly recalled, a pang of guilt punching his gut.

'Who had to talk with me?' The man himself suddenly walked by, stopping at the congregated group upon hearing his name.

'Y/n,' Emily answered. 'Last night.'

'Oh, yes. She, uh, asked if there was anymore paperwork to do.'

'Why would she do that when she was done?' JJ asked.

'I don't know,' Hotch said, making his way towards his office, 'but who am I to turn away someone who wants to do paperwork for free? Now, briefing in ten minutes.'

As the others dispersed back to their desks, Spencer didn't know how to feel about this new information. It didn't help the matter when you finally dragged yourself into the office, dark circles peaking out from under your thin layer of foundation. But as you sat at your desk, eyes drooping as you logged onto your laptop, he knew just what to do.

It took you a second to register the cup of coffee being held in front of your dazed eyes, and another to realise who was holding it.

'Late night?' Spencer asked, a coy smile on his lips.

Despite your exhaustion, you managed to grab the cup without spilling any of the precious caffeine that would help you through the day. 'Yeah,' you decided to play dumb, answering as enthusiastically as possible. 'Paperwork, you know. Never-ending.'

Spencer hummed, contemplating his next words carefully. 'Well, I hope giving up your sleep was worth it, then.'

'I'd like to think it was.'

The way you didn't hesitate to answer struck a chord of truth in him that left him dumbfounded once more. Twice in under twenty-four hours? That had to be a new record for him.

But instead of freezing up, he managed an honest smile as he clanked his coffee cup with your own. 'Well... it is certainly most appreciated.'

~

The next time you dumbfounded him, he almost kissed you.

Ever since you had joined the BAU, you and Spencer had alway had a sweet partnership. But after that night in the office, you had become inseparable. Best friends, to put simply. You stayed late at the office to keep each other company, brought each other coffee and treats, spent free days checking out the new films playing in the cinema.

You had inside jokes, and fought like an old, married couple - a fact the team loved to bring up whenever possible. But you liked it like that. Spencer was your person, and you were his.

And as much as he wowed you everyday, you managed to surprise him on occasions, too.

You were both paired up to interrogate a suspect. You personally didn't believe she was the killer, but Spencer didn't like to base anything from solely his gut. In other words, he was skeptical.

'I didn't kill those women,' your suspect said. 'And even if wanted to kill them, it would be for something more worthwhile than a stupid role.'

'Jealously isn't as far-fetched a reason to kill as you may believe,' Spencer stated to her. 'Particularly in women, the feeling of being threatened or in danger of losing something important to them brings out almost a maternal instinct to protect what they believe to be is theirs.'

'You think all actresses are that low? That shallow?' The young woman was pretty, but her face scrunched up in an ugly manner at the insinuation.

'He doesn't think that at all,' you interjected. 'In fact, he quite likes actresses, don't you buddy?'

Spencer gave you a side eye to which you smiled sickly-sweetly at in return. You were never going to let the Lila fling down any time soon.

You looked back at the young woman, your face returning to empathetic, concerned. She had a wall up, she was wearing a mask. If you wanted answers out of her, you needed to connect with her.

You leaned forward on the table, positioning yourself in front of Spencer so all her focus was on you.

'Anna,' you said softly, like you were speaking to a friend. 'I know you didn't do it. You're different than all those other girls right? You've worked hard to get where you are. Small town girl wanting to make a name for herself in an industry that can be ruthless and heartless as the killer that's still out there. You are classically trained, by-the-book, no shortcuts. I bet you started on the stage of your elementary school, landing the lead role.'

The young woman looked at you with skepticism for a moment, then you saw a crack in her mask as she nodded. 'I was Mary in the Christmas production. But it wasn't until high school when we preformed Shakespeare's The Tempest that I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.'

Spencer noticed your smile now, how it lifted in a manner that sung of melancholy and fondness.

'"We are such stuff as dreams are made on.",' you said whimsically, and Spencer noted a familiarity that had the words rolling off your tongue with ease. Like it was muscle memory.

'Such a beautiful line, right?' the young woman asked.

'Yes, but, when translated into our modern English, it is quite sad really.' You make eye contact with the young woman and hoped she saw the understanding and slight desperation in your eyes. 'It means that life is an illusion, and a fleeting one at that. I don't necessarily believe in the first part of that, but it is true that life is fleeting. So before you end up the next aspiring actress in our morgue, you've got to tell us everything you know.'

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly. Honestly, it was the easiest one Spencer had ever sat in before. And all the while he had just sat there in awe of you.

'I didn't know you read Shakespeare,' he said randomly as they drove together in a local police SUV to meet with the rest of the team at the new suspect's house.

You scoffed. 'See that's the biggest misconception of Shakespeare. That it can only be read. In fact, it actually shouldn't be just read. It needs to be performed.'

Amusement danced upon Spencer's lips. 'Are you saying you were in a Shakespearean play? Which one? Actually, let me guess. Romeo and Juliet.'

'That's a cliche.'

'Twelfth Night? How about Taming of the Shrew?'

'Why do you want to know so badly?'

'Because I...' It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't quite know why he wanted to know. Only that he knows everything and you were his best friend and he didn't know something about you.

You spared him a sympathetic smile from the driver's seat before returning your eyes to the road. 'If you must know... it was actually The Tempest. It was my high school's production, too. And as much as he irritates me, I grew fascinated with Shakespeare's work after that. It even prompted me to do a unit or two in Shakespearean literature and performance during my uni days.'

You allowed yourself to slip back in time a little to those days, that melancholy and fondness finding its way back into your smile, Spencer noticed.

'Outside of Shakespeare though, I'll admit... I was a theatre kid.'

'No way!' Spencer exclaimed. 'You?'

'Why is it so unbelievable that I used to dress up and spout lines that no one really understood?' you asked, but you weren't offended. Simply amused that you seemed to have stunned the (until now) un-stunnable Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Because... it's just so left of field from anyone else in the team.'

'And is that a bad thing?'

'...not at all,' he said after a moment, and then proceeded to drop the matter entirely. Spencer Reid never forgets anything, he couldn't forget, not with his eidetic memory. But he made extra special care to file that little fact about you away for now.

A few days after returning home from wrapping that case up, you came into work to find your coffee already made on your desk, and beside it was an envelope. Curious, you swiftly opened the envelope and gasped with pure surprise at what you found.

'I thought you might like them,' Spencer said as he approached you, his own coffee in hand. 'The ticket vendor said they were the best seats in the house.'

'Oh my God, Spencer!' You couldn't help yourself, you leapt onto the gangly man like a frog and held him tighter than you'd ever hugged someone before, avoiding spilling Spencer's coffee. You were so excited you even smacked a fat, grateful kiss on his unsuspecting cheek before letting him go. 'Tickets to ASC's production of The Tempest?! How did you even get these, I was told they were all gone.'

'Believe it or not, I have connections everywhere,' Spencer answered a bit too vaguely but you didn't care. 'Even in areas that aren't of my particular expertise. I figured you and a friend could go enjoy it before it finishes up.'

'You mean you're not coming?'

Spencer tried not to read into it too much, but he swore he heard a little hiccup in your question, like you were upset. 'W-Well, I, I, uh, didn't want to assume anything. I mean, y-you might want to take JJ, or Emily-

'Spencer.' It was ridiculous how easy he listened when you said his name, how he dropped everything to listen to what you had to say whenever you did. And his heart faltered when he made eye contact with you and saw joy and hope lighting up your eyes. 'Would you like to come to the show with me?'

And it wasn't any wonder, then, that he replied without hesitation, 'Y-Yeah! All right, s-sure. Would love to.'

'Amazing!' Spencer once again had to juggle his coffee and you as you squeezed all the air out of him in another bone-crushing hug. 'Spencer Reid, you have just made my day.'

It was a week later and the night of the performance. You drove yourself and Spencer two and a half hours straight from Quantico down to Staunton to the American Shakespeare Centre, reciting and recalling your favourite Shakespearean moments the whole trip.

Spencer made the extreme effort to look presentable, pulling out a nice suit set, even replacing his usual casual sneakers with some shiny boots. His hair was slicked back out of his face, with only the slightest stubble on his chin and upper lip.

When you picked him up, you said he looked handsome. He never cared much for his appearance, but that comment warmed his heart slightly, made him sit more upright in his seat.

Once you pulled up and got out of the car, he finally saw you in all your glory. A navy blue dress clung to your frame beautifully; kitten heels cradled your feet as you walked up the stairs to the theatre's entrance; your jewellery brought out the (e/c) in your eyes, even further accentuated by your simple makeup and hair.

Spencer has met Nobel price winners, attorney generals, even spoken with the most psychotic people humanity has to offer. And yet there you stood - ethereal, angelic, striking him silent with just your presence.

'You coming, Boy Wonder?'

You'd reached the top the stairs without him moving a muscle. Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up with a cough as he scrambled to catch up with you. 'Boy Wonder? Where did that come from?'

You shrugged playfully as you hooked your arm through his. 'Just seemed appropriate.'

'I'm twenty-seven, (y/n). I'm hardly a boy.'

'Oh, so would you prefer I call you Batman?'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I didn't know you liked DC comics.'

'There's a lot you still don't know about me, Spencer Reid,' you answered, handing over your tickets to the ticket vendor at the door. 'Like how I've always preferred Robin over Batman, anyway.'

You quickly found your seats, and Spencer tried not to acknowledge how tight-knit the seats were pressed together. His thigh pressed lightly against your own, and he couldn't tell if he hated or liked the feeling that suddenly sprouted in his gut.

It distracted him so much that instead of watching the performance, he looked at you. How you reacted to each sonnet, to the entrance of new characters, to the costuming and the music and emotion that filled the room with every word spoken. He watched it all, your joy, your love. Your heart was on your face, and it struck something new and unexplored inside him.

You cried at one point, and physical touch wasn't his forte, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze that he was there. You'd turned to him briefly and nodded, showing that you understood and that you were grateful.

You didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

'Wow,' you breathed out as you exited the theatre, the performance finally done. 'That was...'

'Yeah. I feel the same,' Spencer finished, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked down the stairs towards the carpark. His hand still burned from your touch, and that unsure feeling in his gut still remained.

'It was just so... magical.'

'I would say impressive, but magical works too, I guess.'

'Says the guy who still goes trick-or-treating on Halloween and believes in ghosts. Don't tell me you don't believe in the supernatural now.'

'I'm not saying I don't believe. I'm just saying that it's impressive that they were able to make fantastical magic seem slightly realistic.'

You playfully shove him, causing you both to fall into laughter. The two different melodies mixing together made Spencer feel lighter than he'd felt in a while. This was different to when you usually hung out. This time, there was no case, no team, nothing but yourselves to worry about.

'It doesn't matter, anyways,' you said, stopping on the steps suddenly. Spencer went down one more before stopping too. You smiled gratefully at him. It was a cool, autumn night, cool enough that your breath danced like ghosts in front of you as you spoke. 'Thank you, Spence. This was a wonderful night. You didn't have to do this.'

'I know,' he said, and it startled him how quiet and soft his voice was. 'I just... I just wanted you to enjoy the stuff you love. You deserve to enjoy the stuff you love.'

His acute eyes fell to your shoulders and noticed the slight shake in them. 'Here.' He wasted no time pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling it tight to capture the warmth.

You gratefully held onto the jacket, the warmth it captured seeping into your eyes. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer,' you said, your words dancing in between you two.

He was only the step down now, making you two eye level with one another. He was so close he could see himself in your eyes. He wondered if you could see yourself in his.

'Am I?' he asked, his breath mixing with yours.

'Yeah...'

He felt your warmth, and he suddenly decided that he liked the feeling in his gut. The one that had been driving him crazy all night. The one that had an iron grip on his mind, his heart. The one that pulled him closer to you, to your lips.

His eyes were almost closed and his lips almost on yours. You didn't back away - you didn't want to back away you realised. No matter how hard your heart pounded in your chest. No matter if he was your best friend.

So you leaned in too, and you could just feel the stars and planets align as you tasted his breath-

The front of your heel slipped on the edge of the step, sending you flying forwards into Spencer's chest. His reflexes had improved immensely since joining the BAU, and so he managed to grab hold of you and hold himself up before your momentum could send you both tumbling down the remaining stairs.

You both breathed in heavy gulps of air, steadying both your hearts from what could've happened.

'Nice catch,' you said after a moment, loosening your grip on Spencer only a little.

'Thanks.' He didn't know where to look. You, the ground, his surroundings. It all just felt muddled, as if his whole world had been tilted on its axis.

In a sense, it had.

But he felt your gaze, and he couldn't deny your eyes so he looked at you also. You eyes were blown wide, and the slight catch in your breath had him second guessing himself. Maybe he'd read you wrong after all. He'd never been wrong before, but there was always a first time for everything, he figured.

'(Y/n), look, I-'

Before he could attempt to salvage himself, the irritating ring of his phone went off, breaking the glass dome of solitude you'd' forged together with nothing but words and air.

This forced you apart, awkwardly so, as Spencer readjusted you on his step before letting you go completely and fishing his phone out of his pant pocket. He checked the ID caller: Hotch.

He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. 'Hotch, what's up?'

'New case,' the unit chief answered without pleasantries. 'I know we're all meant to be off for the weekend but this one is important.'

'Where is it and we'll be there.'

'You're with (Y/n), right? In Staunton?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Head to the local police. We'll meet you there. That's where the case is.'

'Okay. Gotcha.'

Hotch ended the call and then it was just him and you once more. Although instead of the air feeling freeing and warming, Spencer couldn't seem to get enough in his lungs. It was like he was suffocating, having to face you again.

So he slipped into work mode, keeping Hotch's urgency and the new case in the forefront of his mind. 'New case. Here in Staunton. Hotch wants us to head down to the police and meet them there.'

'Right.' You seemed to think the same as him - it's probably why you were best friends to begin with - as the ethereal light in your eyes dimmed with the severity of the new situation. Without another word, you both bee-lined for the car, jumped in, and made your way to the local police station.

But for the rest of the case, Spencer couldn't help but think about that moment with you on the steps. He'd kissed before, of course, even dabbled in flirting despite how little he knew about the craft. He'd never imagined he'd attempt it all on you, however. Not even in his wildest dreams.

~

He didn't hear your heart-stopping compliment again until it was almost too late.

After the Staunton case, you and Spencer had been... odd. Well, mainly Spencer, as he spoke as little as possible to you during cases, and always offered to go with anyone else but you on certain tasks. He even stopped coming over to yours for movie night each Saturday, claiming each time to be busy or unwell. It was Spencer's only way of ensuring nothing like that night ever happened again.

He convinced himself the moment was fleeting, just a mixture of chemicals in his brain combined with the adrenaline of being with a beautiful women he very much admired that made him read the signs wrong. You were friends, that was all you were, and all he would ever allow you to be.

This went on for three months.

And you were miserable.

Emily, JJ and Penelope recognised the change in your demeanour at work first, and when they found out the reason behind it, they slapped Spencer upside the head on their way out of the office one Friday afternoon and took you with them, promising a wonderful night out on the town.

That night, to Spencer's eventual annoyance, you'd met someone. A charming young firefighter named Riley who lived in Washington DC and was just in town to see family.

That night, you hooked up. And the next morning, he asked you on a date. That date led to another, then more. You were on your way to another one tonight when you got a phone call from JJ saying they found the latest unsub's house and were planning a raid on it.

Spencer knew you were on a date when he also got the phone call to come along. Despite his distance (by his own choice, he always had to remind himself), he kept tabs on you, checked in on you via others. And while the girls of the team were awfully mad at him, they always answered him when he asked how you were doing.

'You know, for a genius, you really are quite stupid,' JJ told him when he asked about you.

He quirked his eyebrow, genuinely confused. 'I'm sorry?'

'She's heartbroken,' Penelope added. 'Her best friend just gives her the silent treatment out of nowhere after what sounded like a magical night at the theatre. Who wouldn't be upset by that, Reid?'

'I just,' he paused, rallying his thoughts into words that couldn't quite describe how he felt. 'It's complicated.'

'Love shouldn't be complicated, Reid,' Emily interjected, a soft but sad smile gracing her painted lips.

Spencer swallowed thickly at that. 'W-What do you mean?'

Derek finished making his coffee and took a sip of it before answering. 'We all see it, Reid. You don't have to deny anymore how you feel.'

'I'm not denying anything, Morgan.'

'Maybe not to us,' Derek continued. 'But you are definitely denying it to yourself. All I can say is don't wait until it's too late. She's already slipping away.'

That's when Spencer found out about your dates with Riley, and an ugly, selfish, hurt part of him wanted to scream with anger. Mainly at himself, but the damage was done and he had to get over you.

But when you showed up to the unsub's home, your FBI bullet-proof vest on and mascara slightly smeared under your eyes, he was beyond confused. And concerned.

'You're here,' he stated matter-of-factly.

'You sound surprised,' you answered stiffly, loading your gun without even glancing at him.

'To be honest, yeah. JJ and the rest all said you were out tonight. I figured you-'

'What? That I would ignore the call because I had something personal planned?' You finally looked up at him, and man did your cold stare pierce him like an arrow. 'This is my job, Spence. I knew, same as you and everyone else, that I would have to make some sacrifices to do it. So please, don't think so little of me just because I attempted to have a life outside of it.'

He grew more concerned at your choice of words. 'Attempted?' he asked, but then he looked closely at your smeared mascara, at the redness circling your eyes. Like you'd been crying-

'Don't worry about it,' you muttered, brushing past him to meet up with the team. 'You haven't for about four months now.'

Spencer tried to ignore the sting your words brought with them as he followed you to the rest of the team, forcing himself to put the case in front of you. But he'd done that for the past four months as you had so brightly pointed out, and look where it had landed him.

'Now remember,' Hotch started, bringing the team and some other officers in to brief, 'this unsub may use this place as his base to build his bombs, but don't discredit the idea that he wouldn't blow it up to save himself. Tread carefully but be vigilant, he is in the house somewhere. Now move.'

Spencer followed you into the house through the front door, gun and flashlight at the ready. All that could be heard were the soft but swift patter of footsteps as the FBI and local police ran in. The lights were on, but no unsub.

You were silently directed by Hotch to investigate the back end of the house, to which Spencer and Derek followed. You focussed on maintaining your breathing as you tried not to think about your date, Spencer, your heart thrashing in your ribcage. Only the unsub mattered.

The three of you broke into the last room of the house, the laundry. Upon entry, you spotted him, the unsub, running out the back door into the backyard.

'Hey!' you called out, immediately breaking into a sprint after him. You broke out of the laundry onto a cemented path towards a clothes line, chasing after him towards the fence line. But as you stepped off the path and onto the grass, something gave way beneath your feet, followed by a resounding click that had your freezing with fear.

'(L/n), keep going!' Derek shouted from somewhere behind you.

'Hold up!' you cried, throwing an arm back behind you. 'I think the yard is full of bombs.'

'Well, let's go around the front and get him in the back streets, come on!'

'I can't,' you replied back, slightly breathless from running, but also from the fear constricting now your airways.

'Why?' You didn't have to see him to know it was Spencer, concern dripping from just one word.

'Because I'm standing on one.'

Spencer knew it was physically impossible, but he was sure his stomach just dropped out of him and onto the bomb-littered grass around them. This was bad. Like very very bad.

'Shit,' Derek breathed out before bringing his wrist up to his mouth. 'Hotch, the unsub got away over the back fence, send some men to intercept him two blocks north from here.'

'Got it,' Hotch answered efficiently.

'And send the bomb squad out here. Yard is like a mine field and (L/n) is standing on one.'

After that, it didn't take long for the rest of the team to run outside, making extra careful to stand only on the pavements as they got as close to you as they could. Spencer stood the closest, standing directly in front of you as the bomb squad swept the yard for the rest of them.

'I've got some good news and some bad news,' one member of the bomb squad said as she came up to the team. 'Good news is it's the only bomb in the yard.'

'And I just managed to find it. Super,' you muttered, your tone shaky although the intention was to lighten the mood.

'Bad news is it's a pressure-triggered bomb, meaning that if you move even a fraction it'll go off. Also, by stepping on it, you've set of a timer until it explodes. The only way to disarm it seems to be a code of some kind.'

'How long do we have?' Spencer asked, not bothering to mask his desperation. This couldn't be happening. Of all the people, it had to be you.

'Six hours now,' she said grimly. 'My team and I will do everything we can to dismantle it and shut it off manually, but it's built quite strong so it'll be tough to crack open without setting it off. Your best bet will be to get an answer from your bomber.'

'Uniforms just called in,' Rossi said. 'They're bringing him in now.'

'Good,' Hotch said with a ferocity that would send most people running for the hills. 'He's gonna give us that code one way or another.' He turned to you, determination blazing in his eyes. 'Hang tight, (Y/n). We're gonna get you off that thing.'

'I'll hold you to that,' you joked, and you were grateful to receive a soft smile in return from Hotch and the rest of the team. Except for Spencer, he couldn't find it in himself to smile. He could barely think no thanks to your dangerous position.

'I'll stay with (Y/n),' Spencer said, his voice strained compared to his usual calmness.

'Reid,' Derek started, 'you're our best bet to crack open this guy. If we find something-'

'Then I'll have my phone ready to pick up. I'm not leaving her.'

It surprised you the strength you heard hidden underneath his fear. It was there in his eyes too, blazing like Hotch's, except with more warmth, more determination.

Derek looked to Hotch, and Hotch just nodded. 'Okay fine, but you better pick up on the first ring.'

'Promise.'

'I'll stay to help with the bomb squad,' Emily said while also looking at you.

'No,' you said as Hotch, Derek and JJ left. 'You all should go. In case he somehow remotely sets it off himself.'

'We're not leaving,' Reid said firmly, making eye contact with you. 'Not until you're off that bomb, you hear me?'

You wanted to argue, trying to be selfless and strong. But the truth was you were terrified, and to hear Spencer's strength where you lacked helped you push your pride aside and nod in agreement.

Time had flown by and it was now the last ten minutes. Spencer had received phone call after phone call but nothing had been helpful. They'd tried two potential codes already but they didn't work. The bomb squad quickly realised that they only had three chances to get the code right and so they were down to the last chance.

'You guys should really leave,' you said amidst your chattering teeth. It was now just after midnight and your thin button up and the bulletproof vest were not cutting it anymore. Spencer wished he could give you a blanket, a jacket, his own shirt for God's sake if it would keep you warm slightly.

'That's not going to happen,' he answered without hesitation.

You yawned, eyes threatening to droop close. Your legs had gone numb long ago. You were unsure how you were holding yourself up. It certainly wasn't by adrenaline. Perhaps you were frozen in place.

'I mean it, Spence,' you said, bracing yourself as another shiver threatened to spasm your entire body. 'It's the last ten minutes. You should be clear in case it goes off.'

'I'm not going to do that.'

'Damnit, Spencer. Of all the times to be stubborn, you choose now?'

'I'm not being stubborn,' Spencer argued. Were you purposefully trying to tick him off now? 'I'm trying to save your life!'

'You're right, you're not being stubborn. You're being plain stupid,' you retorted. You weren't sure why you were suddenly so angry, you just didn't like him playing the hero when he didn't have to.

'Yes! I am stupid, I admit that. I'll announce that to the entire neighbourhood right now if you want me to! Because if it weren't for me being an idiot, you wouldn't have had those dates, you wouldn't have had a date tonight, and maybe you wouldn't be stuck standing on a bomb right now!'

You stared incredulously at Spencer. He blamed himself for your situation? For Riley?

Despite the bustling of people around them, everything grew silent as youO stared at one another, Spencer's chest heaving as he sucked in air hard.

'Spence,' you said softly, your anger suddenly dissipating. 'I don't blame you for any of this. I would've ended up on this bomb one way or another. Or even worse, it could've been you standing on it. And as for Riley...' You thought the tears would come up again like before, but your eyes remained dry, and your heart didn't pull harshly.

Not for Riley, anyways.

'Did something happen between you two?' Spencer tentatively asked. His tone bordered on concerned and hopeful, demonstrating his torn mindset to whatever you were about to say.

You nodded. 'I told him I had to go to work, which wasn't unusual, but he just flipped. Said he was sick of me choosing you guys over him and that he was finished.'

He hated himself for feeling the slightest bit happy at the news, but his best friend instincts kicked in, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you. 'I'm sorry. You could've said no. We would've understood-'

'Spencer, I will always choose you guys over anyone,' you interjected, and the complete seriousness on your face reflected your sincerity brighter than the full moon above. 'I will always choose you, Spence.'

It was then Spencer saw it: the same feeling he'd had swirling in his stomach for months reflected in your eyes. It scared him, but what scared him more was that it would all be gone soon if he didn't do anything about it.

He would be too late, just like Derek said.

The bomb squad lady and Emily walked up to them both, and Spencer did not like the grim expressions on their faces.

'I'm sorry,' the bomb squad lady said. 'It's the last five minutes. There's nothing else we can do but clear out of the blast zone.'

'What about the code?' Spencer pressed, but Emily shook her head.

'Reid, they've gotten nothing out of him. We've got to go.'

'But we can't just leave her here-'

'Trust me, Spencer, I don't want to either!' Emily cried, tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of you dying. 'But we can't do anything for her here. I've got the remote to input the code if they get another one, but until then, we've got to clear from the blast zone.'

'No.' Spencer shook his head vigourously. He couldn't accept this. He wouldn't accept this.

'Spencer,' you tried gently. 'It's okay. I can do the rest alone. I want you to be safe.'

'Well, too bad, because I'm staying.'

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears rushed down your cheeks. 'Damnit, Spencer. Please, just go. Don't make this harder than it already is.'

Spencer took a daring step towards you, the tops of his shoes dangling just over the edge of the pavement. 'I won't abandon you. Not again.'

You were most likely a blubbering mess, your heart hurting so much at the thought that he would get caught up in your mess. 'God, why don't you just leave-'

'Because I love you, (Y/n)!'

The four of you stood dumbfounded as his proclamation echoed through the yard, the house, the street back out the front. Hell, Spencer hoped the whole world heard what he said, because he felt free for the first time in months, weightless, powerful.

And it was all because of you.

'I love you,' he repeated again, softer this time. As the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, tears of his own sprouted in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He'd finally built up the courage to tell you, and you were minutes away from being blown up.

Through your tears, you find it in yourself to chuckle a little. It's watery and gross-sounding, but Spencer likes it none the less because it's yours, and you haven't lost complete hope. 'Talk about great timing, you big idiot.' And then there it is, that bright smile he saw day one in the office. You wore it with such pride, such strength it pulled at Spencer's heart strings painfully. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer Reid.'

'One minute,' the bomb squad lady said, her tone frantic now. 'We've got to move! Now!'

'Reid, come on!' Emily cried, backing up with the bomb squad.

'I won't abandon her,' he replied, never taking his eyes off you.

'Reid please!'

Before he could reply, though, his phone buzzed, and he immediately answered the call. 'Please tell me you go it.'

'HOME! The code word is HOME!'

'Punch in HOME!' Reid called out to Emily, keeping Derek on the line as he stared at you. If you were to die, he was gonna make damn sure the last thing you saw wasn't an unfamiliar face.

'Are you sure?'

'We're out of time! Do it!'

'Spence...' you muttered. But you never finished your sentence, as your breath got caught while watching Emily punch in the code into the device. You closed your eyes. Soon you would be in eternal darkness. You would not fear it, but embrace it.

But when nothing happened, you dared to sneak a peek at what was going on. You saw Spencer first, who looked at Emily, who looked at the device in her hands. The deathly silence was finally broken at the sound of a green light on the device switching on. You then heard a hundred tiny clicks somewhere underfoot and felt yourself being pushed up back onto level ground.

Spencer finally looked back to you, eyes blown wide with hope he dared not realise. That same hope fuelled your frozen, tired legs, to take the tiniest of steps forward, and when nothing happened, you took your other foot off the bomb and collapsed forward into Spencer's arms.

His heart pounded faster than the jet that flew them all over the country every week as he cradled you simultaneously gently and tightly. You sobbed into his chest, your arms circling around his back and pulling him as tight as possible.

Oh, how he had missed your touch, your affection, your love, you.

'It's okay, you're okay,' he soothed, patting your hair down with one hand while he cradled you with the other. 'I'm here. We're all here.' He realised suddenly he'd dropped his phone, and so with one hand, he reached down and picked it up, bringing it to his ear. 'She's off.'

He barely heard the cheers of excitement and relief on Derek's end before he was hanging up and helping you to your feet. After that, it was a whirlwind of the bomb squad excavating the bomb, paramedics arriving, and CSU investigating the house.

After giving his statement of events to the local police and finishing speaking to other officials, he found you wrapped in a trauma blanket in the open back of an ambulance.

'How are you feeling?' he said as he approached you.

You broke free of your own world to look at Spencer, and a soft smile managed its way onto your lips. 'Well, I can feel my legs again so that's a start. And you?'

'All the better now that you're not standing on a bomb.'

You chuckled, though a red tinge dusted your cheeks out of embarrassment. 'I must admit, it's true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes the moment before you die.'

'Really? What did you see?' Spencer had read articles about this kind of stuff before, but had never spoken with a person who'd experience it themselves.

You didn't answer straight away, instead standing up to face him fully. Your legs felt like jelly a little but you stood strong. 'I saw you,' you replied easily, as if breathing air. 'Only you.'

Spencer couldn't hold it back, his fear, his relief. It all came bubbling out in an ugly sob as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, pressing his face into your hair, using your scent to calm himself. He felt you sobbing too, how your body shook with your own anxieties.

'I missed you,' you said, your words muffled into his chest.

'I know, I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'I missed you, too.' He pulled you back slightly so that he could see your face. He wiped at your tears and forced his best smile just for you. 'But I'm back now. And I'm not going anywhere. That is... if you want me around.'

You heard his silent question, and it made you smile how confident and shy he could be simultaneously.

'Spencer Reid,' you murmured, like what you were about to say next was your biggest secret, 'of course I want you around. I love you.'

He chuckled with relief, tears still pricking at his eyes. But your words sealed your fate, as he used his small amount of confidence to grab the back of your neck gently and pull your lips to his.

You were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, and dare he compare you the most addictive drug he could ever hope to get high on. He couldn't get enough of you, and it was such a relief to finally let it out how much he needed you to breathe.

You were equally breathless, simultaneously feeling all consumed by Spencer's love without also having enough of it. Your fingers danced in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, threading yourself into him as much as possible. The truth was, the past four months were torturous.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

As you both finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together, nervous giggles of teenagers bubbling up in you both. This was fresh and new, but the love you had for one another had been there all along. No one was going anywhere.

'Finally!'

You and Spencer looked up to see the rest of the team watching from afar, with Emily and JJ smiling giddily, Derek and Rossi trying to suppress laughter, and Hotch having the simplest of grins on his lips.

'Oh, babygirl is going to have a field day when she hears about this,' Derek said, walking up to clap Spencer on the back and give him a hug. 'Well done, man.'

'It's about time,' Rossi said as the rest of the team joined you both. 'I thought I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.'

'Thank God you didn't,' Emily said, both her and JJ giving you a hug. 'As much as this has been traumatic for all of us, I'm so glad it brought you back together.'

'Say that to my poor legs,' you whined, but you hugged them just as tight. Truthfully, you felt the same. And as Reid held you in his arms that night, having refused to let you out of his sight after your brush with death, you couldn't be more grateful for it, too.

~

Your wedding was the next major point in his life that your words had impact.

The past five years leading up to your engagement had been some of the best and challenging in your life. There'd been many more close calls on both your lives since then - kidnappings, hostage situations, deadly viruses, the works. Even some romantic challenges that came in the form of other men and women.

But your bond ran deeper than superficial, petty spiffs. You always found your way back to one another, no matter how dark the road got. It was even on such a dark case that saw both you and Spencer on death row that he asked you. You'd both been captured and locked in a shipping container filled with no gaps for air and no way out. Before that, you'd copped a beating from your capture, forcing Spencer to watch all the while. Truthfully, it hadn't looked good, and that's why Spencer did it.

'What?' you asked deliriously, barely able to see straight no thanks to the lack of oxygen.

'I was planning on asking you... after this case,' Spencer admitted, his face mere centimetres from yours as he held you in a tight hug. He was breathless, running out of air and time it seemed. He had to do it now. 'Had it all planned out... We would go to that place on the hill we go to... a picnic all set out... and just as the sun would set, I'd ask you... and give you this.'

You would've gasped if you'd had enough air to do so, in utter shock to see Spencer pull out a simple gold band with a diamond embedded in it from in his pant pocket.

'I've had this for months... waiting for the... right time,' he managed to get out. 'It's my mothers. When I told her I wanted to marry you... she didn't even hesitate to give it to me.'

You were both weak, but he softly picked your left hand up and looked you dead in the eye. 'This might be it for us, but it also might not. Either way, I want to be yours for whatever time we have left. So, (Y/n) (L/n)... will you marry me?'

The tears that trekked down your face actually cleared your vision enough to see Spencer's smile clearly as you answered, 'Yes. I will marry you.'

Either some higher being was looking out for you that day, or your team was just really good at their job (Spencer never doubted them for a moment), but the team found you both in time, both unconscious and barely breathing, but hand in hand, with yours suddenly bejewelled.

Since then it had been a flurry of work and wedding arrangements and stress over the next seven months. Many speculated you were pregnant and that's why you and Spencer rushed the wedding. The truth was you just didn't want to wait any longer than you had to, not being in your line of work. Any day could be your last, so why waste it.

Spencer messed with the tie of his navy blue suit for the hundredth time as he stood waiting under the arch of flowers in the backyard of Rossi's mansion for you. He wasn't nervous, just... ansty, like he had ants in his pants and wanted to get out of them as soon as possible. But he couldn't deny he was just as excited for this day as you were. All of your friends and family dressed up, no case, no killer, nothing but what dessert they were going to have at the reception to worry about.

'Hey pretty boy,' Derek said, coming up behind him and clapping a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. 'Stop messing with it. You look fine.'

'I know, I just...' Spencer couldn't put into words what he was feeling, not as he stared at his good friend - his best man. Even though Derek had left the BAU, Spencer and him still spoke regularly, and he was more than happy to be there for his best bud at arguably the most important day of his life.

Derek smiled knowingly, straightening Spencer's tie because that's what the best man did for the groom. 'She loves you, Spencer. You've got nothing to worry about.'

'I'm not worried. I just...' He felt the tears already coming on and he hadn't even seen you yet. You were probably even more gorgeous than you already were. God he couldn't wait to marry you.

'I get it, man,' Derek said, and then the piano started playing a soft, whimsical tune that was so you and he stepped back into place. 'Show time, pretty boy.'

Spencer straightened himself up, told himself to hold the tears back. This was not a sad day, but a joyous one. But his breath was stolen the moment the doors of Rossi's mansion opened, after Emily, JJ and Penelope walked through, and you walked out into the backyard on your father's arm.

Your gown was simple, accentuating your body like the goddess you were. Your (h/c) locks were styled to perfection, hidden barely by the thin veil that fell like morning mist over your face. You held your favourite flowers in your hands, the glint of your engagement ring shining as bright as the sun that shone upon the whole ceremony.

By the time you reached him, Spencer was about ready to rip your veil off, kiss the living daylights out of you and runaway. But he resisted, instead waiting patiently for your dad to flip your veil up, and for you to hand over your bouquet to JJ, your maid of honour. When you finally turned to face him, he could've cried. You were so beautiful. And we was marrying you today.

You reached out to him, and he was more than glad to clasp your hands at last.

'Hi,' you whispered, a nervous but excited smile twitching your lips.

'Hi,' he whispered back, the threat of tears burning the back of his eyes again. 'You are gorgeous.'

'Thanks. You look handsome.'

'It's a wonder what a whole eight hours sleep and showering more than once a week can do.'

He was so glad to hear your laugh. It calmed his nerves, and apparently yours calmed too, as your hands no longer shook in his.

'All right, everyone,' Rossi started, stepping up to minister the ceremony. 'Let's get this started.'

The boring, ceremonious stuff went by quickly and soon you were reciting your vows. You'd both wanted to write your own vows for each other - agreeing that the usual script was not enough to express your love for one another, and what you would do to protect that love.

Reid went first.

'(Y/n),' he began, staring you straight in your eyes. He'd written his speech over and over again, but once he found the right words, it only took him a matter of seconds to memorise them. Forever. 'I've always been told I was different. Gifted, special. Being different helped me get this job, this family-' he turned to his friends, who watched them with bright smiles and teary eyes. 'But it also got me in trouble, held me back from experiencing... normal things like friendship, even love. So much so, that I started to believe... I was unworthy of love.'

You squeezed his hands, hearing the stutter in his words, the built up emotion that threatened to consume him. He gratefully squeezed back, grateful to know he was not alone, that he would never be alone from this day forth.

'But from the day I met you, you've shown me that I can be myself and be worthy of love. Theoretically, we shouldn't work. Despite popular opinion, studies have shown that people from different backgrounds, with different interests and completely different personality traits are less likely to feel attracted to one another than people with similar backgrounds, interests and personalities.'

'Come on, Reid. You really want people to sleep through your wedding?' Derek asked, prompting you and the rest of the guests to burst into laughter.

'I have a point,' he countered, and waited for the laughter to die down before resuming his vows. 'And while I usually rely on statistics and facts to make informed decisions about my life, from the day that I met you, you turned my entire world upside, inside out... and I didn't care. Because despite knowing almost everything there is to know about, well, everything, you are the one thing that has and always will make sense to me.'

He saw you trying to hold back tears, so he let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek where some tears rolled down. He swiped them away gently with his thumb without ruining your makeup, the most handsome, beautiful smile you'd ever seen on his lips.

'I love you, (Y/n) (L/n). I have loved you since we first met, at every case, at every movie night, every time you made me coffee. I love how you find the light amidst the darkness, how you give yourself completely to everyone you meet. I love the crinkle in your forehead every time you get mad at me. I love all of you, and I don't have to promise you that I will stay by your side through it all for the rest of our lives. You have had me since day one, and that will never change, even in death. But before that final day comes, I look forward to making the most of what time we have left loving you.'

The guests clapped so loudly that he almost didn't hear your soft sobs. But he did, and he pulled you into a quick hug before you pulled yourself away.

'Oh my goodness, I just want to kiss you,' you admitted quietly to him, bringing laughter out of him. But you quickly pulled your self away, using your free hand to grab an A4-sized piece of paper from JJ and return to face Spencer.

'Unfortunately, I don't have an eidetic memory so I will be using some assistance for this next bit,' you joked, stopping your flow of tears briefly as everyone chuckled, appreciative for the break in overwhelming emotions. Spencer breathed in deeply, steadying his heartbeat as much as possible. His part was done, but he knew this next part would be the hardest to retain composure.

'Spencer,' you began, one hand shakily holding your vows, while the other gripped onto Spencer like your life depended on it. In a sense, after today, it would. 'From the moment I first met you, I knew you were special. That you would leave a mark on my life in one form or another. Some sad part of me sometimes thought it would be when you inevitably shot yourself because you couldn't pass your marksman test after three goes-' Cue Spencer looking to Hotch apologetically while the rest of the guests laughed. '-or because, in our line of work, any day could be our last, and I wouldn't rule out any psychopaths intervening with that. However, despite it all, you're still here, and I couldn't be more thankful that you are. You amaze me everyday, Spencer - with your knowledge of the world, your intellectual insight, how you are almost incapable of growing any substantial amount of facial hair.'

You were glad people were laughing now, because what you were about to say next was going to take all your composure not to fall apart.

'But it is your heart and your ability to connect with people that has captured me completely. Our story has been... unconventional, to put it plainly. We were colleagues first, then friends, then you became my best friend, and I thought I couldn't be happier than that. But maybe it has something to do with some chemicals in the brain that are stimulated when you hang around someone you admire and adore long enough - you know, science stuff - or fate. I don't necessarily believe in either, but I do believe in us, Spencer. I believe that we are two souls choosing to become one for the rest of our lives; I believe you are my person, and the one I choose to face each and everyday with; I believe we haven't overcome all that we have for nothing; and I am not the least bit surprised it took nearly getting blown up to admit how I truly feel about you.'

Spencer couldn't care that what you said about brain chemicals was technically incorrect, it was so you, and there was not a dry eye in the backyard as you looked up at him finally, sheet long forgotten, and (e/c) eyes shining bright with tears and love.

'I love you, Spencer Reid,' you said breathlessly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 'You have experienced the worst of humanity over and over again, and yet here you stand with me, smiling, happy, choosing to believe in happy endings. You are a wonder - my wonder - and I can't wait to spend everyday from now loving you, and being wowed by you. From now... until I cannot breathe, and even then beyond.'

You gave the paper back to JJ, then returned your full attention to Spencer. It was like it was only you two, the clapping from your guests dulled as well as Rossi's final words. But Spencer didn't miss a beat when he heard him say, 'By the power vested in me and my online-approved minister credentials, I pronounce you husband and wife. Go on kids, you've earned it.'

Spencer swooped you into the sweetest, loving kiss he could muster, gently cradling your neck and cheeks as your lips met in a soft collision. It wasn't lustful (that would certainly come later), but it was consuming, like two forces being pulled together by a magnet. You were separate entities choosing to become one, and it made you smile through your kiss and for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.

You both partied with your family and friends, but you always managed to find your way back to one another despite the chaos. He now cradled you gently as you swayed together on the dance floor, fatigue settling in. You held each other up as you did, content to just be with each other in the final moments of your special day. Emily, your new section chief, had ordered you both take two weeks off to celebrate your honey moon. Because God knew when the next time you'd be able to relax would be when you both came back to work.

You shifted in his arms, manoeuvring yourself to look up at him, a delirious, tired and happy smile adorning your pretty lips. 'I love you, Spencer Reid.'

He leaned in for a brief but loving kiss before saying, 'I love you, (Y/n) Reid.'

Something about how his last named paired with your first name sounded that warmed him inside. The same feeling lit up in your eyes, but maybe that was just the happy tears that formed there, too.

'We're the Reids now,' you whispered in disbelief, probably due to the amount of alcohol you had consumed throughout the day. 'You're my husband!'

'Yes I am,' he murmured, pulling you back to his chest to lay your head. 'Forever and always.'

~

The last time he heard you say those special words was the day you said goodbye.

It wasn't until you fell pregnant with your first child that you found a proper house to live in. You'd been content with the studio apartment you'd found and moved into one year into your relationship, but when you fell pregnant, Spencer knew you would need a bigger space. One that you could call your own and make a home out of.

Your forever home.

Surprisingly, it hadn't taken long to find something: a nice rustic, two-storey house on the outskirts of DC. It was in a nice neighbourhood , far enough out of the city to be quiet, but close enough you could both get to work quick enough in case of an emergency. The moment you'd laid eyes on it, you fell in love with it, and Spencer knew without question this would be where you brought your family up.

He traipsed through the house with two cups of tea. Coffee had started to disagree with him after he quit the BAU, as if that were the only place he needed it. Teaching and guest lecturing at all the local universities was nowhere near the stress level of the BAU, and so he'd switched to tea. Somehow, in his (as he called it) pre-retirement, it tasted sweeter.

You had stepped down from being a profiler at the BAU after your third child was born, realising that with a four and two year old waiting outside the birth suite to meet their baby brother, you couldn't risk leaving your three babies without a mother. And while leaving the BAU, your home of close to twenty years, wrought a grief out of you that was close to unbearable, you knew it was the right decision and right time.

And you soon found a love for writing - fiction, non-fiction, poetry, it didn't matter. What you'd experienced in your career as a profiler had changed you, and sometimes writing it out made it less haunting, it gave you closure. You went on book tours, consulted on scholarly and literary journals, you even were brought into Spencer's classrooms to guest lecture from time to time.

All the while building and loving the family both of you had always dreamed of.

Spencer smiled at the dusty pictures that lined the walls, of the faces of his children and grandchildren smiling back him. Of the faces of friends old and new, of ghosts he used to know from a time long gone. Sometimes he hardly recognised himself in those pictures. He wasn't the vain type, but when he looked at himself in his 20's and 30's, he couldn't help the yearning that pulled at his heart when he did.

He compared those youthful pictures against his present day, laughing at the barely existent grey stubble he now sported, of the white hair that curled and stood up in any and all directions, of the glasses he now permanently had to wear. You always said he looked sexier with glasses, anyways, so he didn't mind.

Those pictures were his memory, his legacy, his life. When he felt his brain burning, when his memory became a bit too fuzzy, he could always look at the pictures and find solace in how those moments would live on in the people he loved.

'Spence?'

Your voice prompted him to keep moving, to let go of the past and remain in the present. He wandered through the rest of the house to the backyard, where two garden chairs sat either side of a coffee table, looking over the yard. The gardens were filled with flowers of all shapes and colours. He wasn't a nature guy by any means, but Spencer wanted you to have something to look after other than him or the children, something you could be proud of when you were much older. So he'd planted it himself (okay, he needed help from Derek), filling it with flowers that expressed all the wonderful qualities he loved about you.

There was a small gardening shed in the back, a quaint barbecue/entertainment area to one side, and a build-your-own playground just sitting on the lawn. He found you sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, staring out at the yard contently. He placed both cups of tea on the table before taking his own seat in the other chair.

'Do you remember how Jason used to carry Diana on his back up the slide?' you asked gently, a fond smile cracking your dry lips at the memory of your children playing on the very same playground their children now played on when they visited. 'You always got so scared they would fall and hurt themselves.'

'Isn't that our job?' he asked, taking a sip of his tea. 'To worry for our children?'

'You didn't have to be a helicopter parent, though,' you jibed playfully. 'You got better when Aaron was old enough to climb himself, so I can't berate you for that.'

'Speaking of which, Aaron just called, said him, Rachel and the kids want to invites us to dinner on Friday.'

You turned and smiled at him, but he saw how tired you were. It was in the slight droop in your lips when you smiled, it was in the slouch of your shoulders, it was the way you held out your hand for him to grasp and you could barely squeeze him back. You'd been like this for days, and it broke Spencer's heart to see the love of his life slowly fade away right beside him. He knew it was a natural way of life - considering their previous occupations, he was grateful to be even given the chance to grow old with you.

But despite natural law and despite his many blessings, it didn't dull the ache that grew more painful everyday.

'You don't have to be here, Spence,' you said, voice barely above a whisper, like it was just a secret only you two shared. 'You've seen enough death already.'

Spencer placed his cup on the table before getting out of his chair (a feat he struggled withe everyday now, his BAU days finally catching up to him) and walking around to your side, bringing both his hands to clasp yours as he knelt beside you.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he said, willing every ounce of sincerity and love into his words, into his hands as he held your frail ones. 'Forever and always, remember?'

Spencer almost broke down when your eyes locked with his, those shining (e/c) orbs sparkling with life and mischief and wonder. Despite what time had done to you, you were still his (Y/n), his best friend, his partner, his lover and saviour.

You nodded as if to say yes, I do remember. I always will. You pull one hand free of his grip, and use it to cradle his wrinkled cheeks. 'We've lived a good life, haven't we, Spence?'

He pulled one hand away to caress your hand on his cheek, holding it there for as long as he could. 'Yes. Yes we have.'

Your eyes scanned over him, suddenly seeing your life in rewind.

You saw him as he was now, white, Einstein hair, wrinkled skin and glasses. Then with only little streaks of white in his hair, more sleek. That's how he was with the kids. You kept going back, to your wedding, to your engagement, to the first time you kissed. Every movie night, every case, every late night in the office. Until you were seeing him as if for the first time. Kind of dorky, kind of sweet, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to explain to you how his "physics magic" worked that very first day in the office.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time as well, as you smiled your bright smile like you did on that first day. The smile you had smiled for him every day since. The smile he saw in your children, and then your grandchildren.

'You are a true wonder, Spence,' you whispered softly, using what little strength you had left to squeeze the hand that still clasped yours as if to say thank you. 'My wonder.'

He waited for the lump in his throat to form, for the words to get stuck in his throat like they always did before. But the lump never formed, and so the words flowed like water out of him, finally feeling right.

'And you are mine,' he whispered back, smiling as bright as he could for you as he held you. 'You always have been my wonder.'

You bring his lips to yours one last time before dropping your hand from his face and sitting back in your seat, looking more tired than you'd ever been. But your other hand still held his, and he certainly wasn't going to let you go. Not yet.

'Spence,' you wheezed, eyes struggling to stay open on him.

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, using his now free hand to stroke your grey hair in soothing motions. 'It's okay. You can rest now. I'll join you soon enough.'

The slight dip of your chin let him know you understood, and soon after you closed your eyes, your hand grew slack in his hold and your chest ceased rising.

You were gone.

And he was still here.

It was only then did Spencer allow the tears to fall, to acknowledge that despite both of your acceptances, he was sad. You'd lived good, long lives, and even then Spencer believed it was not enough time to love all of you. He knew it was selfish, but he figured after all he'd been through he would be allowed this one wish.

He held you for another hour before he called your children to notify them of your passing.

He held on for another year before he joined you. Cause of death: a broken heart.

He was buried beside you in the family lot, and on your joint headstone, it wrote:

Here lies Dr. Spencer Reid and Mrs. (Y/n) Reid. Loving Husband and Wife and Parents. "You truly are a wonder."

[embrosegraves]

𝔸𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤

(request) Sebastian Vettel x Reader  Periods are the worst but Seb makes them bearable  It’s just very very sweet!

Warnings: Reader has very intense cramps but its not too detailed. Reader's gender isn't explicitly mentioned but I wrote with afab reader in mind

You had never been in so much pain in your life. And you had once broken a bone. Sure your cramps had always been bad, but this was a whole different level of painful. You had woken up this morning with intense cramping and it didn’t take you long to figure out why. 

Your period had come a day early. 

Part of you was grateful that Sebastian was scheduled to be away for another day. You didn’t want him to have to deal with you while on the first day of your period. It was always the worst day of the whole week because your body was still adjusting to the sudden pain it was enduring. 

Sebastian was always a godsend when it came to your period. He was never embarrassed to go to the store and get what products you needed. He always made sure that he stocked up on things that he knew you liked. Things like your favourite sweets, your favourite tea bags and he always always always made sure that you had hot chocolate ready to be made at a moment's notice. 

All that to say that this time around, Sebastian had wanted to surprise you by coming home from the race weekend a little earlier than initially planned. Almost as soon as the race had finished and he didn’t have any more media duties to attend to, he got on the soonest flight back home to you.

Once Sebastian had reached the airport and collected his things from baggage claim, he received a notification on his phone. 

Flo: 🩸🩸🩸 starts today! 

Once Sebastian had seen it, he adjusted his plans slightly and made sure to stop at the store on his way home so he could get you some things to hopefully relax. 

Ever since the pre-race events had started earlier that day, you had been lying on the couch, curled up in the foetal position. The pain was so intense that you had only just managed to change your clothes in the morning and make your way to the couch. You didn’t have any extra energy to shower or grab any medicine that you knew you had. There was also the fact that you were trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need any medicine. That you could soldier through your period pain and be fine. 

That was exactly how Sebastian found you when he finally walked through the front door of your house. Given the amount of pain that he could see on your face, he knew you would struggle to answer anything he asked you. He quickly put his things down in the entryway, he could deal with it all later, and made his way to the kitchen to pour you a glass of cold water and put the kettle on so that he could make you a hot drink as well. 

Grabbing the glass of water and some medicine from the cabinet, he made his way back to where you were, put the glass on the coffee table before gently helping you sit up so you could swallow the tablet without choking on it. 

Once he made sure you had swallowed it he went back to the kitchen, leaving you to slowly sip on the water. Quickly grabbing your favourite mug, he made you a hot chocolate and topped it with mini marshmallows and chocolate powder. On his way back to the living room, he grabbed the bag of snacks he had bought. Walking into the room, he set the items on the coffee table and carefully sat down next to you. 

He spent the rest of the night comforting you and making sure that you were well taken care of. He whispered sweet things in your ear, both in English and German. It made you feel incredibly loved. Whispering assurances to you, Sebastian made sure that you drank your warm drink and ate some of the things he got for you. 

Eventually he got you to the bathroom, helping you shower away the gross feeling of sweat and gently massaging the soreness from your shoulders and neck. Afterwards he dressed you in your designated period pyjamas and laid you down on the bed before going to heat up your microwave heat bag. 

Crawling into bed beside you, he gave you the heat bag and wrapped you up in his arms. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your face to cradle it. 

“Thank you Sebby.” 

“I will always take care of you, Liebling.”

I smashed this out in one sitting. Briefly proofread but not at the same time??

Idk but I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you enjoyed reading it!!

[barefoothighlander]

Howdy, may I request some ghost with a GN reader that sick and stubborn like. Will not go to the doc because :fear: and thinks sleeping it off always works

howdy hun, serving you some fresh simon fluff as he's my absolute fav, this one's pretty short but I thought it was cute, lil bit of domestic simon.

warnings: none just fluff, gn pronouns, typical cold symptoms

Your hoarse coughs echo through the house, a testament to your current state, your head ached and burned as you lay weak, wrapped in the bedsheets, Simon moves toward your body, placing a warm mug of tea beside the large glass of water that sat undrunk on your nightstand. He rests the back of his hand against your forehead,

"You're burning, and you haven't drunk anything since this morning" He looks at you apprehensively, "I think it's time to go to the doctor love"

You shake your head, the movement increasing the thrumming between your ears, "No, I'll be fine tomorrow, it's just a cough" you managed through wheezed breaths.

He skates a feather-light hand over your form, feeling the sweat gathering on your skin.

"You've been stuck in bed for three days, I'm starting to worry"

You stare at him, eyes half closed from your wary state, "Do we have any medicine"

His lips pull into a tight line as he sighs lightly, nodding and leaving to find some sort of cold medicine, "This is all we've got" he says raising a plastic bottle of pink liquid, your stomach churns at the mere memory of its taste, your face contorting.

"If you won't go to the doctor the least you can do is take it"

You purse your lips, reaching a hand out to grab the bottle before twisting off its cap and swallowing a mouthful, you smack your tongue at the taste.

"God that's awful," you say as Simon huffs a laugh,

"I'm serious, one more day like this and I'll carry you to the clinic myself"

Your eyes widen at his threat, a pool of anxiety settling in your stomach.

"I said no doctors Si"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to alright, I don't like being there, getting poked and prodded" you sigh, "Please just, drop it"

He nods in acknowledgement, "Did you want something to eat"

You shake your head "No, I'm just gonna have a nap" you say as you pull the sheets to cover your body, head falling back against the pillow.

He let you sleep for 30 minutes before he pushed his way into the room, setting a tray of soup and water in front of you, you sit up at the sight, face turning towards him.

"I know you said no but you need to eat something, this will help your throat, and I want you to take these after," he says, holding up a small cup of vitamins, "It's some vitamin c and ginger, they'll help"

You give him a meek smile as you scoot forward to pick up the spoon, before you can dip into the warm bowl he stops you, "Wait one sec", you're confused as he rushes out of the room, you hear clattering in the kitchen before he returns and seats himself on the edge of the bed.

"Crackers" is all he says, crushing a few in his hand before dropping them into the soup,

You smile, "My favourite"

He brushes the crumbs from his hands, opening his palms flat to direct your attention back to the food, you take a large bite, humming at the sensation easing the rough tickle in your throat as he just watches,

"It's really good"

"Made a mess of the kitchen but, best I could do"

"You aren't having any?"

"No, I uh, I ate earlier"

The truth was he had been so occupied in nursing you that he had forgotten to take care of himself, his clothes unchanged from the previous day, his hair a mess from lack of grooming, a slight stubble appeared around his chin, but you loved the way he looked no matter.

"You know, I get nervous in places sometimes too," he says quietly, you arch your eyebrow prompting him to continue,

He stutters for a moment, "I'm just saying I understand is all, the avoidance, wanting to tough things out"

You nod, a smile forming on your lips as you continue to eat the meal he prepared for you, chewing the small tablets he had given you after you finished.

"Thank you Si, I feel better already"

He laughs, he knows your body still aches but all he can do is help ease it, not wanting to push you into anything you were uncomfortable with, he removes the tray from the bed, placing the glass of water next to the growing stack of cups beside your head before sliding in behind your form, draping a loose arm over your waist and nuzzling into your neck, placing a soft kiss to it.

You hold him against you, letting his warmth ease the chill that had set in your body as you fall asleep laying next to the man you loved.

[aealzx]

“Hey…. How’s he doing?”

Leo’s soft voice caused Raph to look up, the concerned furrow in his brow growing when he noticed the red edges of Leo’s eyes despite the big smile. It was enough to get Raph’s brain churning about how to switch places with him, even as he answered. “I got him to eat some crackers earlier. After he watched the video he had of what happened.”

Leo’s grin turned into a grimace, and he hobbled over to climb back on the bed. “Ouf. That’s one way to do it I guess. Makes the text make sense too.” Crawling over, Leo rested the back of his hand on Donnie’s forehead, then cheek, and grimaced again. Using the tablet resting on the heart monitor stand he double checked the last time Donnie was given medication, and what, before using his portals to fetch other medication to give him.

“What text?” Raph asked, not knowing anything about texts anyone had gotten.

“A little bit ago I got a text from your phone saying ‘sorry for crushing your ankle’. Which was really confusing considering you didn’t do anything to it. So I’m guessing Donnie took your phone for a bit?” Leo responded, slightly absent as he was still checking up on Donnie’s current state.

Raph could only chuckle. “Ah, yeah. He was pretty insistent.” And after a short pause with Leo only humming in answer, Raph hunched over slightly. “Hey Leo? Can I ask for full time Nurse Nardo?”

“What?” Leo blinked, looking up in surprise. “What are you talking about? You’re doing great!” he protested, giving Raph a reassuring smile.

“But you’re not,” Raph pointed out, internally wincing since he hadn’t wanted to mention it since he knew it would make Leo retreat.

“I’m fine.”

There it was. An automatic response that was too quick as Leo deliberately moved to do something that would make him face away from who was looking at him. Raph just reached a hand over to squish Leo’s cheek and pull his gaze back over. Then just gave him a sad smile while rubbing his thumb under Leo’s rosy eye, like he’d done for Donnie just a few hours before. “No you’re not. And that’s okay.”

“It’s nothing. Dad just-... I was…,” Leo faltered, the smile finally fading as he reached up to hug Raph’s arm. “...I can do both,” he insisted weakly.

“I know you can,” Raph assured. “But I don’t want you to do both. And I would feel better if you were always the one looking after Donnie. You know he likes you best.”

Leo had to snort, but it did bring a faint smile back. “C’mon. Nothing beats Raph hugs.”

“Eh, you’ll have to bring that up with him,” Raph shrugged. He could definitely get all of his brothers to fall asleep on his own. But it was only when he was flattened by Leo that Donnie slept the longest, and best.

Leo seemed to be considering it, no longer feeling like he was failing or giving up. But Raph needed him to come to a conclusion a bit faster, so leaned over to hush blurt out. “Plus Raph really needs to pee. Please take him, quickly.”

Leo’s laugh crashed into his nose first before bursting from his mouth, and he reached his arms out while adjusting to get comfortable. “Alright, okay. Give him here before you wet the bed,” he snickered, pulling Donnie over to lean against him instead, and laughing more as Raph gave their sleeping brother a quick kiss on the temple before scurrying out of the room.

Settling back into the bed pillows, Leo dabbed Donnie’s face with the clean water Casey had left before he wrapped a cooling patch in a thin cloth so the adhesive wouldn’t touch Donnie’s skin. It actually did feel nice to be off his feet and relaxing, and he pulled his phone out to finish watching some of the surgery videos he’d started. “Dunno why you like me. You don’t have to…” he mumbled absently, knowing that Donnie wouldn’t hear him.

He was shocked when instead of silence his comment was returned by Donnie signing back to him while his eyes were still closed. [I know. Want to. My choice. Dum dum.]

Leo choked out a surprised noise, pulling his head halfway into his shell for a moment to hide his embarrassment. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he muttered quickly, peeking a glance at his twin and catching a sleepy gaze and subtle smile looking back at him. Huffing, Leo squirmed unnecessarily to get more comfortable. “Go back to sleep. I’m watching open heart surgery.”

As expected, Donnie gave a disgusted snort and quickly reached up to pull the rag on his head down far enough to cover his eyes, even though it ended up wedged against the pillow when he turned his head. No thank you. No disgusting, horrid human torture for him.

--------

Previous Next

____________________

Little bit of fluff =7=

[hoenoredone]

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH – nanami kento

a/n: sorry for the inactivity, exams have been kicking my ass

contents: nanami is starting to get old. he used to be able to withstand nights of drinking until he passed out and the subsequent work day, but now the a/c gives him a cold. tags: sfw, enstablished relationship, married au, non sorcerer au, fem!reader, talks of snot and fever, unbelievably self indulgent.

unbelievable. un-believable. you knew something was wrong when nanami had made himself a cup of chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey the night before. he had told you he was just tired from work, but – realistically – who wants to have hot tea in the middle of july? he had been clearig his throat way too often before going to bed, and he looked like he was struggling to swallow whatever food you offered.

after years of marriage you knew better than to ask him about it, he'd only deny feeling unwell. so you do the next best thing: slip him a tablet for his sore throat with the usual vitamins he takes every night. he fell asleep almost instantly, his body already tired from fighting off the illness. he unintentionally woke you up at around 4am from blowing his nose a little too hard, causing him to cough into the tissue.

he struggled to fall asleep again after that, tossing and turning every couple of minutes, no doubt from not being able to breathe properly. it's in that precise moment (5:33am) when you decide that he's taking the day off tomorrow. he's an icredibly responsible worker, he has more than enough sick days accumulated to be able to use at least one.

you wake up before him – miraculously, considering how little sleep you got – and make him some breakfast as quietly as possible. you decided not to turn off his alarm clock because you knew he would not listen to you and simply rush straight to work if you had done that. so you opt to set the table and place the freshly squeezed orange and ginger juice next to his green tea and a bowl of honey-banana oatmeal.

you hear the familiar beeping of the alarm clock as you're pouring yourself a cup of coffee, and patiently wait for your husband to come into the kitchen. you must be lost in thought because you almost don't notie him until he rests his head on your shoulder and tries to stifle a cough.

"morning," he groggily says.

"sweetheart," you coo while turning to face him, "did you have trouble sleeping? i heard you coughing at some point. here," you place your coffee down on the counter and raise your hand to his forehead, "let me see."

you almost gasp at the heaviness of his eyelids and the unusual warmth of his forehead.

"kento, you look ill," and he knows you're serious, you never call him by his name.

"i feel fine," he tries, but he knows that it's useless. he doesn't feel too bad, just congested. and he has a headache. and his throat is killing him. he can power through.

"have some breakfast and go back to bed, i'll text your boss and bring you some medicine after," he can't even protest, the thought of having to get ready and go into that cold, cold office where his cubicle is inches away from the a/c sending chills down his spine. not like his protests would matter much, regardless, as you're already sprinting to his phone. so he sits down, alternates between sipping his tea and the juice you had made him (the ginger burns his throat but he forces himself to swallow). he tries to eat most of the oatmeal but his stomach just doesn't agree with him, so he leaves a little less than half of it in the bowl.

he's a good man, tidies up after himself even when oh so horribly sick, and goes back to bed. once you hear the rustling of the covers you know you've succeded. you exit the bathroom, a smidge of eye cream unblended on your cheek, and hand him a glass of water and some ibuprofen. you make sure he has enough tissues by the bed and leave him a bottle of cough syrup and a spoon on his nightstand. you tuck the comforter all the way up his chin and grab some clothes to get ready for work.

once you're ready you come back into the bedroom and almost decide to leave without giving him a kiss in fear of disturbing his rest. you opt against that, knowing how unusually whiny your husband gets when he's sick. so you place a gentle hand on his arm and leave a peck on his forehead.

"i'll try to be back for lunch," you whisper, "but if i don't make it there should be some leftovers in the fridge if you feel up to it."

he groans in response as you make your way to your shoe rack, a barely audible "love you" from him painting a smile on your lips as you quietly close the door.

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!!(Yes you are)

(Prompt)  (Masterpost) (Previous) (next) (Ao3 link)

( Part three bby! Come get ya’ll juice) @unknownthreat @avelnfear @adeniumdream @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23  @ashoutinthedarkness 

“Zero human life signs detected" A terrifying string of words to hear after crawling out a lifepod. It didn’t sound plausible, there were dozens of life pods on that ship! Dozens of pods that should have launched with him in the crash, that means dozens of people who should be more alive than him were wandering around this planet. They had too be!

Alterra tech wasn’t as advanced as the corporation wanted him to believe. A thorough scan of the entire planet couldn’t be performed in a matter of seconds. The tablet was impressive sure, but it couldn’t replace the complex tech and the brilliant minds from the brightest of space programs. Living people were unpredictable, especially in times of disaster like this. It would’ve been easy for them to accidentally walk out of range or be skipped over by whatever scan was sent out. All he knew about this planet was that there was water as far as the eye could see. There had to be people somewhere on the planet. The area he landed in was safe from what he could tell, he could only hope the same for the others.

Shallow water surrounded him a tropical warmth to it. The ground was a mix between soft sand he could dig his feet and stone. Giant coral tubes were scattered throughout the area and Danny found himself giggling as he darted through them as fast as he could manage.

“Vital signs abnormal. Self scan recommended,” Danny frowned glaring down at the PDA, a flashing light dutifully reminding him to head up for air. Scrunching his nose Danny dismissed the notifications. Notifications and reminders that would be lifesaving for a normal human would be inaccurate and possibly harmful if you applied it to him. His body needed less oxygen so his heart was slower. It made perfect sense to him but it was very difficult to explain to a trained medical professional that he was just built different without exposing the existence of halfa. Explaining his existence to the Ai was a task he wasn’t looking forward to. Maybe he should play along and pretend to be a dumb baby so he didn’t have to. Explaining how he’s still alive when his heart wasn’t pumping anywhere close to the speed needed for his circulatory system to function.  

Maybe if he scanned himself like his PDA suggested he’d get accurate medical information for once in his half-life. His semi normal life was over the moment he melted into goo and his grave was dug the moment the PDA noticed the irregularities, no harm in digging himself a deeper grave right? Better to be comfy in your grave than fight to be tossed in a ditch. 

Swimming up to the surface Danny allowed himself to think deeply about his situation for the first time since landing on this rock. Alterra drew it’s information from building off confirmed databases, creating new ones and synthesizing theories when they lacked information. For all the GIW’s and his parent’s hard work their research on ectoplasm and ecto entities didn’t exist in any official database outside of fairytales and myths. To his PDA ectoplasm was something they’ve never seen before; something that they’d study without the bias of his parents or the GIW skewing the results. 

Jazz and his friends would still accept him no matter what conclusion the PDA drew on his existence. If worse came to worst he could always pull a couple strings with Technus or ask tucker to wipe it’s memory for him when he got home.

With a small gasp for air Danny dove back down into the shallow waters. Brightly colored fish roamed, nibbling at plants and flitting away in terror when he drew near. Only one of the fish didn’t seem to mind his presence. A slim yellow fish with purple fins, goldish stripes and stalked eyes that gave it resemblance to that of a crab or a snail. It glided slowly through the water, ignoring Danny in favor of munching on bits of greenery growing out of the sand. Danny took to ignoring it right back, it was boring, and not as fun to spook while he scrounged for materials.

A creature that was 60% eye was the most entertaining to startle. Despite the little blue fish being bigger than his head it was still terrified of him, darting away at a sped Danny could just barely keep up with. They dodged and weaved leading him in circles until he either got dizzy and lost sight of them or got bored of spinning.

He plucked mushrooms out of the ground, the purple ring surrounding pink insides left a chalky residue that stung his finger tips. Danny didn’t even want to chance eating these, they felt compressed like all it would take was one wrong cut for them to explode into a million pieces. According to his PDA they could be used to make batteries . Rumor has it, battery acid doesn’t taste that good. A high pitched whistling similar to a dog whistle played from his PDA getting louder and higher in pitch the closer he brought the mushroom to his mouth. It was funny how the PDA thought it could stop him if he really wanted to eat poison. Though, if it would stop the PDA from screaming Danny would graciously hold the battery mushrooms in his backpack not his mouth.

Danny used Wilson to bash up stone outcrops, praying the fire extinguisher wouldn’t break against the stone. Shoving chunk after chunk of titanium into his backpack he prayed Alterra had something in their storage modules separating the possibly explosive thing away from each other. Copper was what he needed yet it seemed like it was as rare as gold here. All he needed was one piece, one single piece to make the battery needed for a scanner. Did copper even exist on this planet? It was the main component to most things technological so if it didn’t exist here he was screwed. Hoarding massive amounts of titanium wouldn’t make up for it’s lack in conductivity. Powering tools took electricity, and he didn’t exactly want to risk using a faulty battery in the middle of the ocean. Copper was a must have for the machinery he needed, the fabricator wouldn’t let him substitute materials nor did he have the materials to substitute. For now, he was forced to continue his search, smacking away at the limestone in hopes of the ancients deciding to show mercy and give him what he needed.

 Breaks for  air were few and far between, the PDA catching on to the difference in biology quicker than he thought it would. Who knew not drowning when all data says you should leaves one eager to reevaluate their data. Oxygen alerts popped up after a minute and a half instead of the normal thirty second warnings. It wasn’t anywhere near his breath holding record before the crash but it was enough to make the PDA slightly less annoying so he considered that a win. When copper finally dropped from an outcrop, he almost cried from relief; not that his tears would mean anything in the ocean. Relief soon morphed into annoyance as every single one of the outcrops he broke afterwards dropped copper. Of course the moment he didn’t need it anymore was the moment it became the only thing that would ever drop! Why wouldn’t it work that way? Clockwork was laughing at him right now he could feel it. Swimming into the nearest cave to drown out of spite didn’t seem that bad of an idea anymore.

“Detecting sulfur deposits in the local cave systems. Sulfur is an essential component of the repair tool.” A colorful, yet morbid animation played on the screen. It depicted a small child putting sulfur into their mouth before being stamped by the image of a skull. It covered the child’s entire body and as the skull faded off screen so did the child, a small grave stone replacing them. This warning was unnecessary but an accurate assumption of his survival skills. Jazz always said he was like a toddler, putting anything and everything he could in his mouth. While not exactly true, she’d seen him eat a plastic spork and watched him drink ectoplasm so he couldn't plead his case without proving her point. Eating random objects was one of his favorite ways to freak people out! 

A piercing shriek broke through his thoughts. It sounded like someone taking a wheezing breath when they had the flu and it was rapidly approaching him. A flash red entered his his vison and Danny only had time to make brief eye contact with an alien that vaguely resembled a pufferfish before it exploded sending a cloud of loose sand into the water. 

What the hell was that thing!? It just self destructed for no reason! There wasn’t even time for him to get a good look at it before it exploded! It was like the fish took one look at Danny and decided a violent death by self-destruction was the only answer. Why the hell would the PDA warn him about sulfur deposits when their were living tracking missiles swimming around? Did he swim into their territory? Was it protecting something? Ancients he hoped he hadn’t stressed a parent into killing itself to protect it’s babies.

 Heading deeper into the caves, he swam towards where he saw Bomberfish emerge. A plant, with a dark beige base almost blended in with the sand. If not for the vibrant red petals with yellow lining bloomed around what looked like pollen but smelled like rotten eggs he might’ve missed it. The pollen was brittle crumpling into a powder like state that sifted though his closed fist. It didn’t take long for him to realize this “Pollen was actually one of the sulfur deposits he was warned about. A gurgle was heard and he twirled around to face the noise. An eye was peeking out through a plant the familiar red petals hiding the boom fish from sight. These things were ultra territorial, or maybe they were guarding the sulfur for some reason? There weren’t any eggs nearby for them to protect. “Living grenades nearby” would’ve been a more fitting warning than “hey you probably shouldn’t eat this” Then again if you told him directly that there were grenade fish in the caves, he would be rushing in there to see it with his own two eyes. The whole point of a warning would be null if it unintentionally encouraged people to rush towards danger with the promise of seeing something cool. He kicked the sand, hiding himself behind the open sulfur plant and waited for the agitated fish to go back into hiding. A cluster of mushrooms nearby illuminated his face as he carefully pocketed the sulfur. Fleeing the cave, he ignored the bomber fishes warning cry as he swam away fast enough to avoid triggering it.

Now all he needed was to craft a battery for the scanner and silicone rubber for the repair tool. Silicone rubber could be made with something called a creepvine seed cluster. Creepvine sounded like a plant your camp counselor would warn you about before going on nature hike. Something that would give you ugly rashes when you inevitably stumbled into a patch of it. The PDA showed him what the materials he needed looked like but not where they were found. Creepvine seed clusters were bulbous yellow seeds that like the name suggested grew in clusters.

It was just his luck that the thing he needed wasn’t in the shallows. In fact, it was located in one of the places he’d been avoiding. Bordering the shallows, tall stalks of kelp grew so tall it almost breached the surface and dense enough that to classify as a forest or at least the ocean equivalent of a forest. The seed clusters were bioluminescent, growing off certain kelp stalks while others remained seedless. The glowing bulbs illuminated chunks of what he could only assume were pieces of the Aroura. A creature long and sleek with jagged teeth lurked in the green tinted waters. Watching, waiting, and ready to strike the moment it’s pray wandered from the safety of the shallows. Often it snatched up pieces of metal, thrashing around with it like an alligator with it’s prey. Sometimes it wandered to the shallows, drawn in by the metallic sheen of scrap and scattered storage crates or lured by dozen of vibrantly colored fish that flourished in the shallows. They never stayed for long, perhaps an instinctual knowledge that scaring prey into migrating elsewhere wouldn’t be good for it’s survival. Picking off stragglers and hunting occasionally was much easier than having to hunt down your preys new breeding ground whenever you wanted to eat. 

While their trips to the shallows were short, he didn’t trust a particularly tasty looking prey wouldn’t give them the confidence to venture farther into the shallows. There was no way of knowing a metal muncher wouldn’t stalk him back to the shallows if they saw him on his little errand. No way of telling if their interest in metal was limited to just scraps. The fabricator was his only lifeline right now, his only hope for tools and drinkable water. A fabricator that was built into the wall of a lifepod made primarily of metal that would look oh so tasty to a jagged toothed alligator with a craving for titanium. 

There were a lot of things he wanted to do on an alien planet but he didn't want to swim into the home of the metal munching monsters! It was safer to just stay here where the only real threat was a living grenade with territorial issues and the gasmask manatee. The Metal muncher was gigantic and Danny was the perfect bite sized snack! Most of the tastier looking fish were smaller than he was and all Danny had to defend himself was a fire extinguisher and ice powers with the effectiveness of a slushy machine. He’d be the appetizer to tide them over before the main course of a life pod slightly charred! 

Impulsiveness and an apparent lack of self preservation was what he was known for by his community but contrary to popular belief Danny didn’t want to die. Back home, he had the strength to hold his own against the attacking ghosts and the friends to back him up when brute force and bullshittery failed. Now he had neither. Hours after the crash and he still couldn’t go ghost; trying to access his powers was as helpful as it’d been during the crash. Worst of all, his friends were lightyears away with no way of reaching him or even knowing what happened. The situation was dire and rescue couldn’t save him or the other potential survivors if he acted stupid and got himself killed. Believe it or not impulsiveness isn’t the same as stupidity; the two could come hand and hand but that didn’t make them the same when they’re separate. No matter what his grades said about him he wasn’t stupid. 

Daniel James Fenton, that’s who he is and Fenton’s aren’t stupid.

 Common sense ran scarce in their family but intelligence was plentiful. Jazz might be hoarding all the common sense but Danny had just enough to make his own rational decisions every once in a while. Provoking something that big without at least the foundations of a plan would cross the line of impulsiveness and land him with a dunce cap sitting in the corner of his lifepod. That is if he wasn’t torn to shreds first

He couldn’t beat a metal muncher in face to face fight, better to avoid it as much as possible. Out maneuvering  one of them wasn’t even an option. His swimming was slow and uncoordinated like the rest of his tiny body. At least stealth would be easier for him like this. The kelp twirled into itself an easy place to hide. Hiding wouldn’t help if they smelt him, the gators snout was long enough to snatch him out of any hiding spot he found. What he needed was something to defend himself but unfortunately, the only weapon he was allowed to fabricate required silicone rubber to make. So unless he wanted to blunt force one of them to death with a fire extinguisher his wit was his only other weapon. Metal munchers seemed to get distracted easily, diverting their attention from him would be an easy task. If he could spare some titanium or catch some of the smaller slower fish he could sneak through the kelp forests mostly unbothered.

Offering food was the safer bet. Carrying around a chunk of metal would slow him down and give the overgrown gators a chance to eat him and his peace offering. Danny chased down fish, snatching up the slower ones in his little hands. They slipped out of his grasp often, his dull nails did nothing to keep  the fish from squirming out of his grasp. Sharpened canines although small did great work to puncture and kill whatever unfortunate creature he caught in his maw. It they tasted terrible but what more could you expect of holding a raw fish in your mouth? With a dead fish in his hand, he surfaced for one long gasp of air before delving into the kelp forests. Hope the metal muncher didn’t prefer live feedings.  

“Life on this planet grows in distinct and diverse ecological biomes. Further study recommended.” The PDA piped up, playing another short animation of a child using a scanner. The child had three extra fingers sprouting on their wrist and there was an eerie emptiness in the eyes that screamed AI generated. Dismissing the notification Danny began to stalk around the biome. Chunks of sandstone dropped silver, lead and, sometimes gold. A notification popped up for two of the three. Blue lights flashed in his face and Danny had to duck away, hiding inside the curling vines of kelp. The PDA instructed him on handling lead including the usual warning of “Don’t eat it,” given whenever he picked up anything that wasn’t a fish. 

It wasn’t his fault that rocks looked so tasty! The only rock he actually put in his mouth turned out to be salt give him a break! A pain in his gums made the concept of chewing on things he wasn’t supposed to more appealing then it was. 

A loud shriek erupted, so loud it made his ears ring. Gnashing teeth and dilated pupils stared back at him through the creepvine. With a scream Danny chucked a fish at the creatures face hitting it square in the jaw. Shoving as many seed clusters into his backpack, Danny swam as fast as he could towards the shallows. An indignant shriek of a gator no longer distracted by its snack rang out behind him motivating him to swim faster. 

His life pod was in sight, so close yet so far away. With a monster chasing him the short distance felt like miles. Fish scattered in all directions at the sight of his pursuer distracting the gator just long enough for him climb the latter to the top of his lifepod. Air burned his lungs adrenaline rushing through his veins as he stared intently at the retreating form of the metal muncher. The PDA was talking to him. Words that sounded vaguely comforting were drowned out by his rapid breaths and the ringing in his ears.

“Scary,” His voice came out hoarse way too young to belong to him. A string of certain words didn’t make it past his lips. He didn’t know what he was calling scary specifically, everything that’d happened in the past twenty four hours was terrifying. From the crash to the feeling of helplessness he got from being shrunk and hunted. The sky was darkening, soon, the only light he’d have would be from the flames ravaging the Aroura. Another terrifying thought, the Aroura was a tough ship, what could’ve possibly caused that much damage. When Danny was recruited the ship was hyped up as unbreakable, a perfect example of mankind’s brilliance. It wasn’t negligence or a maintenance error, the ship was fine before entering this solar system. With his duel obsession he should have been at his strongest. It couldn’t be a coincidence that his powers went kaput the exact moment the aroura crashes. Something was fishy here and it wasn’t just the living grenades.

The top hatch was heavy and difficult to open. An air tight seal just like the bottom hatch doing more to keep him out than it could with any water. It’d be a lie to say the hiss of air that escaped when it opened wasn’t satisfying If he wanted to investigate further, he needed to repair his life pod. He watched in awe as the fabricator took things from his backpack and turned into something else. Creepvine seeds to silicon rubber, copper and mushrooms to a battery. Silicone rubber, sulfur and titanium to an O2 tank, fins, the survival knife, and the repair tool. A battery and a single piece of titanium built up into a functional biometrical scanner. It was incredible, in just a few minutes Danny went from having nothing to having a knife and other less important tools. If things stayed this easy he’d be ready to fight a minor deity in a matter of days! 

A barrage of PDA messages hit him, all somewhat snarky congratulations for crafting but Danny couldn’t care less. His focus was fixated on repairing all the sparking bits and bobs of the lifepod. It was like magic the lights flickered to life as if they’d never been broken in the first place

“Lifepod secondary systems online. Running full environmental diagnostic and outputting results to databank.” The PDA pinged as Danny stepped over the puddle of goop to get to the radio. 

“Radio online. Broadcasting emergency distress signal, ”Just like the lights the radio was fixed in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t push down the giddy hopefulness at the sight of blinking red light, a message already was a good sign.

“This is Aurora. Distress signal received. Rescue operation will be dispatched to your location in 9...9...9...9...9.. hours. Continue to monitor for emergency transmissions from other life pods,”

That... That did not sound good.

[bangtanhoneys]

BTS MOMENTS: Hobi & Grace - Are you sure that's safe?

“Are you sure the heat pack needs to be that hot? That doesn’t look safe,” Hobi said as he watched from where he was sitting, frowning as the staff member handed over the portable heating pad that was switched on at 65C (149F). 

It would be utterly typical that her lady day would start the same day as their performance in Tokyo Dome, the first show as well. Grace had woken up that morning in the hotel room, with severe cramps and a stain on the bed which was a little embarrassing to try and explain to the team and the hotel staff. Not only that, the cramps were severe to the point that the moment she stopped walking, she was bent over in the middle. 

Really, not a great way to start their Tokyo performance.

Hence the reason the medical team got her period heating pad ready and had it on the highest setting they could. 

“Hobi, I love you but shut up,” Grace sighed as the heat made contact with her skin and the slight vibration was doing wonders for the cramp that was working its way across her abdomen. 

“Well, it doesn’t!” He defended himself as a member of their medical team handed over some painkillers to Grace with a bottle of water. 

“Heat is the only thing that helps at the moment,” grumbled Grace after swallowing the tablets and curling up into a ball on the couch. 

They had a few hours left till the start of the show so for Grace it would be the perfect opportunity to have a nap, let the heat do its thing and then hopefully feel better to get up, get changed into the costume and have her make-up done. She just needed to get through each performance without leaking. 

Hobi glanced over at Grace again and frowned once more. He knew it was going to be a bad day for her and he had lived with her long enough to know the best thing to do was to leave her alone, maybe find some chocolate and let her rest. 

“Just don’t burn yourself,” he sighed as he grabbed a blanket and threw it over his sister, making sure to tuck her in. He could feel the warmth of the pad from the back of the couch and as much as he was worried, if it helped then it helped. 

“Wake me up in a couple of hours?” Hobi heard Grace murmur from where her face was pushed against the pillow. 

“Of course,” Hobi laughed and pushed some of her hair away. “I’ll make sure the team has some snacks ready for you as well.”