#is it not and I really don’t know if I can get to my doctor

[januaryembrs]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but thing he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?

Length: 8k

Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.

main masterlist.

author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!

He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression. 

He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul. 

Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl. 

Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.

“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”

She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek. 

She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.

Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal. 

“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie. 

“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not. 

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before. 

“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his. 

“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,” 

She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them. 

“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”

She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,” 

But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t. 

“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word. 

Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him. 

“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,” 

Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.  

Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.

–

Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together. 

Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice. 

Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.

Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning. 

“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”

He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask. 

“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee. 

“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her. 

“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,” 

“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore. 

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable. 

“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating. 

Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel. 

Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue. 

“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question. 

His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?” 

Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly. 

“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him. 

“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair. 

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror. 

“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy. 

“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her. 

“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her. 

“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague. 

“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”

He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that. 

He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.

And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor. 

The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning. 

-

They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive. 

“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house. 

The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“ 

“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?” 

“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud. 

But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features. 

“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole. 

Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified. 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it. 

“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,” 

“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified. 

She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window. 

“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?” 

He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would. 

He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.

Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.

“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”

“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.

“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”

Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it. 

“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”

“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.

“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”

“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”

“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”

“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”

She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.

–

They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of. 

And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.

She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.

“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”

“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.

She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.

“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”

“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies. 

She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face. 

“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.

“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.

“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”

Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”

“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love. 

“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”

JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.

Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”

She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.

The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.

“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.

“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”

Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.

But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.

He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.

—

It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.

In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.

It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.

“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.

“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,” 

Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.

“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”

“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”

And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.

They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?

Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.

She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft. 

“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.

“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.

“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too. 

Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.

“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.

“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”

He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response. 

“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.

“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”

“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months. 

Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”

“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.

“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem. 

Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him. 

“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time. 

He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world. 

“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”

“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips. 

“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,” 

“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”

Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.

“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.

He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground. 

“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”

She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped. 

“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?” 

He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?” 

She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.

“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?” 

He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.

“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.  

“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”

Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right. 

He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.

He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.

He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.

“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”

Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.

“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.

And she believed him.

--

[cipher-fresh]

Mutual #1: Ruby is DEFINITELY Missy’s daughter guys

Mutual #2: I wish 15 had condemned cops or something when Ruby asked why the TARDIS looked like that

Mutual #3: CHRISTOPHER ECCLESTON. CHRIS. CHRIS COME BACK BABY

Mutual #4: She Charley on my Pollard till i Scherzo

Mutual #5: I hate that Moffat is returning to write an episode. Can Steven Moffat kill himself please

Mutual #6: I love that Moffat is returning to write an episode. Can RTD kill himself please

Mutual #7: What if we kissed in front of Ianto’s shrine in Cardiff and we were both girls

Mutual #8: Chibnall’s episodes outside of his era are some of his better ones. I think for every cool thing he does there’s law of conservation of energy applies and the next episode he makes sucks

Mutual #9: I really do not mean to TJLC but i think the Doctor is going to realize he’s in a TV show this season. Bc i don’t know what to do with the death of RTD’s subtlety in foreshadowing

Mutual #10: I’m not misogynistic but I just hate everything about the 13th Doctor era and I just think it doesn’t have a single redeeming quality.

Mutual #11: You are literally an anti-feminist if you hate anything about the 13th Doctor era

Mutual #12: Spydoc are pegging each other rn in my Google docs

Mutual #13: Guys I’m getting a tattoo of the 8th doctor should it say “autism” or “lesbian” underneath in impact font

Mutual #14: It’s so sad that Simm!master turned into a puppygirl. Oh well I must comply to canon

Mutual #15: Was Thasmin queerbaiting? No nuance pick one

Mutual #16: Everybody listen to the TV movie soundtrack NEOWWWWWWW

Mutual #17: Tegan and Nyssa would have the Monkees on their sex playlist

Mutual #18: I just wish 14 got a whole season, you know? Or maybe two. Or three. Who needs 15 anyway?

Mutual #19: If David Tennant steps foot on a Doctor Who stage again I will kill him with my blade

Mutual #20: Link to pirating big finish in reblog. everybody please come to 6th Doctor land with me

[moonstruckme]

Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)

Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3

cw: concussion

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow. 

He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following hushed voices into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 

The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration. 

Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time. 

“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.” 

Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.

“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.” 

Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.” 

“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings. 

Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again. 

Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus had each taken a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking. 

He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion. 

The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him. 

“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?” 

“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.” 

“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him. 

He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively. 

“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs. 

You hum. “Why?” 

“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.” 

“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?” 

You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look. 

“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks. 

You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.” 

Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.” 

“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?” 

“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later. 

Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself. 

“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.” 

Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it. 

You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.” 

“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.” 

You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?” 

“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.” 

[nereidprinc3ss]

early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will

in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.

warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine

a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee

The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system. 

Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.  

You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you. 

Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else. 

Sometimes he just looks… edible. 

And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you. 

“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch. 

Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing. 

“Hi. You look nice.”

“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”

“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”

“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”

Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested. 

“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”

Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies. 

“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”

That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it. 

“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid. 

“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”

Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character. 

Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie. 

His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—

“Yes you do.”

Always so convinced he’s right, this one. 

It’s annoying. And kind of hot. 

“Uh, I promise you I do not.”

“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”

You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you. 

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”

“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”

“You think we should move?”

You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar. 

“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”

Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer. 

Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you. 

He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults. 

“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”

“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”

Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver. 

“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”

Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway. 

“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”

Your knees bump. You lean into it. 

“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.

“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”

“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”

Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.

“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile. 

“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”

“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”

“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”

“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”

His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark. 

“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”

He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap. 

“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”

You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers. 

“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”

He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous. 

Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear. 

“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”

“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”

He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.

“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”

Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty. 

You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.

His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute. 

You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper. 

“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”

[coffe-and-tea-time]

Lovesick! Doctor x Reader

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ You need a proper care, Dear ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Hi, Coffee speaking! We both got a cold and I wanted to indulge a bit, I also got a little obsession with Lovesick! Wally ngl but I choose to start with the doctor expect me to write for a Lovesick! Patient soon

Hi, Tea speaking! We actually were also saying nonsense about humanized Pepsi (my favorite soda) and 7UP (Coffee's favorite) so yeah (why does my twin drool over a muppet?)

btw, this isn't edited due to Tea still being really sick, so do expect weird sentence structure/words or misspells, sorry in advance, just one twin absorbs all the intelligence in the womb and that was certainly not me/j

tw: this dude shouldn't be a doctor, yandere behavior, drugging, manipulation, kinda paranoia? , reader doesn't know anything is happening, written in you/yours (this is just fiction, I don't really know about medications I just research a bit to write this)

It was only a cold, you just need to go to the doctor to get the certificate and maybe some paracetamol and then leave, easy, isn't it?

As you walk in the hallways of the hospital you turn right, having a hard time trying to find yourself in this big hospital, but it seems like you were right, as you bump into a doctor, your doctor.

"dear? What are you doing here? Here is no place to wander off!"

The panic in his voice is easily noticeable, as if you walk into a horror movie and choose to separate from the group without telling anyone.

“I’m sorry doctor, I just got a little disoriented here and there and ended up here..”

You don’t really get why he reacted like that, it's a hospital anyway, the worst thing that could happen is that you enter into an operating room but there is always a sign on them… I think?

“huh, I see Anyways, don’t worry, it's just that there is no place to wander around, let me guide you towards the other floor again. I will take you in right away, is that cold of yours keep bothering?”

“Yeh, it’s seems like everyday it’s getting worse, I don’t think I could be outside of my house too much without getting a bit dizzy”

You started talking about your recent problems because of your stupid cold that doesn't seem to faze away, the path to his consultory felt shorter than you could remember but well, guess it’s normal that happens when you're focused on talking, isn't it? You choose to just blame your mind and take a seat in the neat room as the doctor talks.

“Seems like the symptoms are getting worse… too much slowly”

“I’m sorry doctor, what did you say? I didn’t really catch the last part”

You say rather chill than you should, the first part was about your cold being worse, isn't it? Well, that’s true, kinda makes you wonder if it really is a cold but not wanting to sound like a hypochondriac, plus, the doctor is peacefully researching something in one of his drawers although you can't really see his face since his back is turned to you.

“Oh, I was just commenting how you are having a really rough time, I was thinking about giving you a different medication before it gets even worse. I would rather if you sit for a little, like 15 to 20 minutes before leaving after taking it, I’m really worried about you, you look lost in thought, it’s doesn't really appear like you are here with me right now…”

Well, what he says is right, your mind seems all over the place these days, good for you to have such an attentive doctor. He hands you a pill and a glass of water.

“This is Benadryl, it's just an allergy medicine, but can give some sleepiness. I ask you to sit and wait because of that, isn’t a real problem feeling sleepy but I want to make sure it doesn’t trigger your dizziness. I change the medication because I think you can have more of an allergy than a cold due to your symptoms that are also not fading away and even getting stronger, you see, it’s normal to find allergies or develop them as you grow..."

As he keeps explaining complex things, you just wonder what to blame if it happens to be the cause of an allergy as you take the pill with the help of the water. You two keep talking peacefully, as you wait for the time to pass, it seems like the doctor was right in seeing it coming that you were gonna get kinda sleepy. Does this doctor not have any other appointment or something?

“Well, and that's about it, any questions?”

You started to feel more tired, your head felt heavy, but well, the doctor warned you about it, so you try to ignore it and wait for it to just pass.

“To be honest, yes, but this is more out of personal curiosity, what was the floor where I was earlier before you found me? It was really empty for a hospital…”

… Are you moving or are things in the room suddenly alive? You get a little surprised and try to stand up to check your own condition without thinking about it though. You feel like you lost your balance, as if all around you is spinning, the doctor is fast to come beside you, ready to grab you if you happen to fall.

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn't see any people because it's a floor for rather special inpatients we deal with. Focus on you now, what’s your name? How many fingers am I holding up?”

You try to fight to keep yourself awake, yet before you could answer his questions, your vision went dark and you finally lost consciousness.

". . ."

He holds you so tenderly, avoiding your unconscious head to get hit and end up with a contusion or something like that.

“Rohypnol is really quick to act, huh? Don’t worry Dear, I will make sure you won’t need to deal with stressful stuff from today on, that would get you here in the end anyways, I’m just avoiding you some pain…”

He gently kisses your forehead before notifying through the phone in the room that someone fainted and will require admission to the hospital.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

[pomegranate]

I rewatched “Hanky Panky”, an episode I don’t revisit very often - in my opinion, it’s not a very good exploration of BJ and his faithfulness, and the concept kind of falls flat for me. The lovely @captainhunnicutt explains it perfectly in this post.

What it does do, however, is provide a fascinating depiction of Hawkeye reacting to his best friend being unfaithful. This turned out way longer than I wanted it to, so:

We see Hawkeye go through several phases, re: BJ and cheating. First, he teases him about it and the viewer is reminded (clumsily, see Shan’s post) that BJ is the ultimate family man - directly contrasting the charmingly lecherous Hawkeye.

Then we see the scene in the mess tent where they all get mail (BJ gets three letters! what a family man). BJ notices Carrie getting upset and leaving the tent, and he follows her, while Hawkeye silently observes BJ getting up from the table and leaving.

We don’t see Hawkeye again until the mess tent the next morning, where BJ shows up and Hawkeye plays up the worried parent angle before saying this. Note his posture during this scene; he crosses his arms when BJ shows up and when he says the line below, he shifts ever so slightly closer to BJ.

When BJ says he was sitting up with a sick friend, Hawkeye gleefully says “tell me all about it”, still enjoying getting a rise out of BJ. And then Carrie shows up and it’s obvious to everyone that something happened between her and BJ.

I know other people have talked about this scene so I’ll try to be brief, but Hawkeye is suddenly more awkward than we normally see him.

Hawkeye: “Donovan, you look like a new woman! Not that there was anythingwrong with the old one.” Carrie: “Thanks, I feel better.” Hawkeye: “Well, why shouldn’t we all feel good? Our work is so rewarding. Always lending a helping hand. Doing unto others.” BJ: “Hawk, your mouth runneth over.” Hawkeye: “I'm just teasing. I mean, do I know what I'm saying? Whatever it is, I don't mean it. Should I go?” BJ: “Just stop talking.” Hawkeye: “I will as soon as I get my foot out of my mouth. I think I'll put it someplace else. Ah, I'm being paged at the pool! Well, you two carry on. [laughs nervously] Strike that. This is me leaving. Here I go. Bye. So long.”

Hawkeye flees the mess tent and we don’t see him again until the Swamp, where BJ is writing a letter to Peg about what happened. He shows up and makes himself a martini before sitting down to be the comforting friend that BJ needs him to be.

(btw: in trying to goad BJ into opening up, Hawkeye says, “Pour your heart out. I'm a doctor, I can fix it.” Which is a line that makes me go nuts but anyway.)

So BJ opens up to Hawkeye and vents about how he doesn’t want to be unfaithful to Peg! He loves his family and is lucky to have what he has! Hawkeye is, of course, soft and sympathetic.

He realizes BJ was busy when he came in and asks him about it, and is immediately outraged when BJ explains that he’s confessing to Peg.

Hawkeye then makes BJ take a vow: “I promise to be a good and faithful husband, to write nice, cheerful letters home, to think of Peg often, and to keep my fat hands off Nurse Donovan.”

and then makes a vow of his own: “I, Hawkeye Pierce, vow that some day, I will take a vow just like his.”

Then we come to another awkward Hawkeye moment, where he finishes making his little vow and throws on a scarf, saying he’s “a little late for a very important date”.

Idk but Hawkeye didn’t seem like he had any plans when he entered earlier, and I know the obvious Doylist answer is “well they didn’t really think this scene through and we are simply meant to assume Hawkeye is going on a date”. But to me, it comes across as though he’s once again uncomfortable about the whole situation and has to flee BJ’s presence again.

It’s interesting to see how Hawkeye was very much having fun teasing BJ with the theoretical idea of him being unfaithful at first, but when he realizes that it’s actually happened - that BJ is not infallible and can & will have sex outside of his marriage if he lets himself - Hawkeye becomes incredibly nervous.

To go full Beejhawk in my interpretation of this episode, it feels like Hawkeye has been harmlessly flirting with BJ and enjoying having an unattainable crush on his best friend, knowing nothing could ever happen. And when he realizes that BJ can be pushed to be unfaithful, it rattles him. He has BJ make that vow and then vows to make his own version of the vow BJ made (not even touching that) and that’s that. What's the point of this post? I don't know tbh but I had to dump these thoughts somewhere and I've already done enough shouting at my pals on Discord. TL;DR: Hanky Panky is a weak episode in terms of exploring BJ's brush with infidelity but it's so interesting to look at with Beejhawk goggles on.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

.batcrow feat. the owl.

or a situation, which is stuck somewhere between existential threat an’ scuffle between barn animals.

...

(it’s one of those underdeveloped, raw-ish concepts that i indulge in just for funzies. it all started very simply. i was thinking about what kind of person might make bruce jealous. the topic was kinda challenging, considering that bruce in the comics *at least in the ones, i read* or even btas is rarely express this emotion if at all. in fact, at one point, he literally said to the woman, who he supposedly was in love with, that she should stay with the other man, who also liked her, bc he needed her more *he got disfigured an' such* an’ she was like ‘wtf is wrong with you. to paw me to the other man like that’, clearly outraged. but bruce didn’t seem to fully grasp what her issue was lol.

still, what if he somehow got jealous of another man, when it comes to crane, anyways? and who that man could possibly be? my first thought was superman, bc bruce generally can be kinda petty, when it comes to him. but clark is such a puppy-like character. he wouldn’t have been mean about it, or even be someone who could potentially like jon in such a manner. at worst, bruce might have got annoyed at crane *not clark*, if he said smth about superman’s strong arms in front of him. some jealousy there, but not quite what i was looking for, when pondering on that set up.

an' then, i recalled the owlman! i only know the version of him from the cartoon, an’ honestly after seeing glimpses of what they do with him in comics, i’d say this is the only owlman for me. from the crisis on 2 earths ‘toon. gotta admire a character, who is SO nihilistic an’ SO sure in his own worldview, that he literally does nothing an’ dies, just bc it doesn’t matter to him. he even smiles a bit, if i remember correctly. kinda both chillin’ an’ sad. the owlman had an ego, but he also just kinda….wanted everything to die an’ that’s it. he is what might have happened, if bruce went full blown doctor strangelove, after his parents death. which is funny, bc owlman isn’t bruce wayne at all, but he is the one who ‘takes’ his place in his own universe. i don’t remember if it was ever revealed in the cartoon, who the owlman was or if they left it ambiguous. i'm pretty sure, that they made him bruce’s brother in the comics, specifically. but i might be wrong, bc there was a few owlman in batman's ran, i think...?

either way, this version here is devoid of backstory. the main thing for him is that there was never a bruce wayne in his universe, an’ coincidently enough, no jonathan crane, either. as result, owlman knows nothing about scarecrow. he had analogs of other batman’s rogue gallery, who were either heroes or anti-heroes, but he never had professor of fear of his own. an' that’s part of the reason why he gets slightly curious about him. at the begining, it's very casual on his part. i guess, he might have wondered why it's those two *jon an' bruce* specifically, who never existed in his reality. everybody else, clearly did. so he looks a bit closer into it, still mostly for the sport. only to find out about strange relationships that crane has with the bat.

the owlman is an isolated kind of character. he doesn’t care for his own teammates. nor he's able to reciprocate their affection. i mean, he didn’t really react to the villain version of wonder woman kissing him. he was surprised, sure, but not hurrying to return the gesture or even seemingly knowing what to do about this situation. which led me to believe, that at least in the frames of that toon’s worldbuilding, he had no alt alfred or robin or anyone, who he was close with. kinda an opposite of batman, who does to a degree surrenders himself with people, even if he keeps them at *emotional* distance, more often than not. but the point is, that bruce still wants a connections an’ not devoid of hope to see the things sorta/kinda working up. in comparison, owlman is as nihilistic as a person can get, so it makes zero sense for him to have close ties with anyone. or even see it smth that he needs. but i imagine that witnessing how batman acts with his enemies, jon esp, be a very confusing experience for him. like, why pity such a person? why even show some small signs of kinship with him? an' what’s so different about this one, if anything at all? 

so after some more pondering, he approaches crane just to see for himself, if he is worth all that effort *sympathy* or not. an’ hey, scarecrow is kinda fun. reactive an’ jerky, an’ surprisingly aggressive for such a coward. owlman's usual enemies are the good guys. they're heroic an' noble. but jonathan isn’t that. not even close. his worldview is bitter an' twisted. whatever wrongs were done to him, didn't mold him into a hero like with any other owlman's enemy. the scarecrow is a villain to the boot an' it's...new. his use of fear is interesting too. none of his enemies had this gimmick. this makes the owlman wanna play around with him for a bit longer. or owlman experience unknown emotions for the first time in years an’ kinda not fully certain what to do about it, other than indulge in it. his end goal still the same. it won’t change for/or bc of anything, but he can have a small distraction, before the curtains call. it's not everyday, when he can find a person, who is kinda interesting to him, even if bc of pure novelity that he can hang out with a man, who had never existed in his own timeline.

then, he learns about the scarecrow’s life. how it went downhill or rather, how it was sorta doomed from the start almost. an’ oh. here it is. that’s what batman feels too, isn't it? that silver of kinship. the owlman never had this before. an’ it’s not a bad feeling, either. he was never able to relate to the others. it’s like ‘everything sucks so much. everything just sucks forever’ an’ he has found someone who understands the meaning of this sentiment, an' not just being an emo about life. at least, the owl would assume that jon understand it in the exact same way he does *but jon doesn’t lol* 

meanwhile, bruce is concerned. owlman is a very bad, bad kind of man to have around crane for many different reasons. one of which is that it doesn't sound like a hard thing to convince someone like crane, that destroying everything is the only 'right' way to go about things. jonathan's life is generally was an' still is awful, so why not end it all, but with a huge, literal bang?

it’s like a nihilistic doom an’ gloomy buddy club. sounds hella corky, but in reality, it’s dark stuff, actually. jon be beyond depressed in this case. him getting all buddy-buddy with people, who are more unhinged an’ dangerous than him isn’t a new thing. but in this case, it’s like an extra salt on batman’s open wound. the bat himself states in comics at least twice, how crane is one of those villains, who don’t just stay the same, but who progressively gets more an’ more insane an’ deranged each time he breaks out of arkham. him hanging out with the person, whose worldview is basically ‘it would have been so much better, if we all were dead’ an' who literally an' genunily means this, isn’t smth that is good for jonathan's *already declined* mental health. esp if owlman is also rather problematic in other ways too. not to meantion, that him dragging crane along is also kinda personal. in this way, he might be showing bruce, that no matter how much he wants his rogues to change or how much good will he shows them, they're all just human, therefore they're all hopeless an' bad. bc all humas are bad in owlman's understanding. it's like 'aw, you want to believe that this one isn't a lost cause? what if i will make him help me to murder everybody? still think he worthy of your delusions?' owlman might have an end goal, but he's also arrogant an' petty too.

on main, i have two rough-ish concepts for their uhhh, trio shippy thing. in PG-ish version, it’s just that owlman influencing jon in an awful ways, an’ since he kinda/sorta resembles batman, crane subconsciously rely on him, bc he's somewhat familiar. besides, the owl hints that his own life was bad too, an’ it’s like finally someone gets on the same level of despair as crane does. an' also, maybe...this what could have been, if the bat was a villain too. they could have been on the same team. so in a way, it's kinda more of jonathan playing into this weird fantasy of himself an' bad batman, than him fully understanding the real level of 'oof' that owlman tries to acomplish with 'the plan'.

*funny enough tho, where it really counts, jon isn’t like owlman. he, for one isn’t someone who would just give up. after every fail an’ each kick an’ shove, he still gets up. the thing about jonathan is that he wouldn’t just lie down an’ die no matter how much pain an' humilation an' despair, he felt. an’ he also wouldn’t *in the end* commit to the idea of murdering countless people just bc his life sucked. even if, it doesn’t mean, that he won’t go through motions an’ nearly, truly consider going along with it. he isn’t alright in the head, an’ his negative emotions tend to get the best of him. still, i feel like most versions of jonathan would in the end, decide that no, it's not what he wants or ready to take responsibility for.*

it all would resolve in comic book fashion, where jon would help the bat in the end, an’ not that other man, who had his allure an’ had almost seduced crane into doing one last evil act any human being in existence could have ever done. still, there always be longing on scarecrow’s part for this odd, wrong ‘batman’, even if he sticks with his own, regardless. 

*an’ yeah, the bat is kinda jealous throughout all of this lol. the world can be hanging by a thread, but no one said, that he cannot be a tad possessive, while he’s saving it *an’ crane* too. owlman will have fun with this knowledge, while it will go completely over jonathan’s head. mister ‘i can pin-point everyone’s fear from one conversation’ would have a really hard time understanding that batman’s beef with the owl not strictly hero vs villain thing*

then, in more mature version, it's kinda the same-ish plot, but owlman prob would do way more messed up things, which might put crane into a position, where he’s afraid to not comply, but also not actually willing to do it. an’ naturally, there bruce won’t be jealous, more so angry. really struggling with idea, if he should let just this one man *or an owl, whichever rings more true* die. an’ then, if this is a reflection of him, what kind of person, he really is. so it’s more of moral dilemma an’ a character study of a nihilistic sociopath, who just might have wanted to have a lil chew-toy, as he prepares his biggest scheme.

anyways, it’s not like an otp3 or anything. i’m a very bond/pair oriented fella. so when i’m dabbing into 3 way dynamics, it usually has more situational/reactive undertones. but i won't deny, that it’s fun to think about 'what if' or even about some situation in the void, where the bat an’ the owl double teame the crow. which in any plot-included or a somewhat coherent narrative just wouldn’t have happened bc of how all 3 of them function / react to things. it just not in their character to do it this...randomly. but if i will ever make a superhero pwp ficlet collection, i might try to do smth with this idea.)

[of-mutton-and-wool]

Fellow Kallamar enjoyer I love that squid so much so you have hcs about him 👁️👁️

I HAVE BEEN SUMMONDED

Alright

First of all AHEM

- before becoming the god of pestilence, kallamar lived a fairly unremarkable life, eventually becoming a field medic in the middle of a war between gods

- he doesn’t remember his family well (it’s been thousands of years) He remembers having a sister, with his mother and father both being priests to the great Fowler and (insert former blue crown bearer)

- unfortunately then the war catches up to them. The temple in which these gods and his family resides are massacred. Kallamar survived because he hid.

- seeing the blue crown unguarded, kallamar decides to take the opportunity. In the moment he seeks it required for survival, but in the present, he realizes how that the lust for power is just too great to ignore.

- he meets shamura about a few weeks later! It started out as like a resource alliance (shamura needed crystals and kallamar needed, everything not underwater really)

- but then it kinda evolved into a sibling like bond due to some shit that happened to both of them

- his cowardice isn’t without reason. Being cocky gets you killed in the deep

- he used to be WAY more sassy and talkative before narinder’s banishment.

- oh and the scar on his face was shamura doing (it was accidental)

- the viel narinder wears is made by him!

- kallamar is a poly king and we love him for that (kinda cannon? Not sure how cannon the Valentine’s Day things are. But it’s cannon in my heart)

- oh and I hc as bi well.

- for some reason I’d imagine his followers call him the lord or just lord kallmar

- he runs his cult via fear mongering!

- AND! He recruits followers by sending out doctors into nearby oceans to urge people to come towards old faith settlements for treatment

- if I had to be fr kallamar would be the worst person to be tortured by because man’s a doctor, he knows how the body works, and he knows how to keep you ALIVE during it as well.

- as a follower, kallamar is hard of hearing (it isn’t total silence, but everything sounds like it’s underwater and thus, impossible to understand. Basically he’s aware of sound but can’t understand anything if that makes sense?)

- he also ends essentially living in the med tent because 1) he’s the token doctor 2) he’s very sickly

- he expresses affection by gift giving!

- kallamar is VERY passionate about weapons and decor. Hes VERY particular about where things go and that’s why he’s banned from decorating the cult because he’ll be there for hours. He can also tell you a lot about weapons and what kind of damage they do!

- Before coming into contact with the crown, kallamar could breathe water only. Durring and after his time with the crown, he can breathe both water and air (what crown juice does to you. Being a bishop leaves a lot of effects)

- Kallamar’s people are blessed to have a similar situation. It’s sorta a national holiday that takes place on the first day of summer in the bishops land. It’s basically where anyone that’s willing can get mass blessed and go live in the ‘holy lands’ of anchordeep

(You don’t have to. Kallamar has many beach front settlements and temples. Though your neighbors would be the folks in silk’s cradle).

- he’s a jewelry kinda guy. LOVES earrings

Anyways that’s enough rambling from me

[cherrysnax]

hi so our last post died, and things have gotten kinda worse with the arrival of our other cat, my elder brothers homelessness, and the racial abuse getting hurled my way

we’re two disabled black lesbians trying to navigate employment discrimination and the American healthcare system, and tbh we’re losing. we originally had to split everything between 6 people, but due to my brothers getting evicted, everything we have (and everything we don’t) also goes to them

like last time, I’m still waiting for a doctor but recently they told me to call back in November. I’ve been calling since April. I believe the stress of everything is causing a flare up of something and I have no idea how to manage it, on top of my new seemingly random food sensitivities that keep popping up. I’m exhausted all the time and sometimes can’t even get out of bed.

on a brighter note, my girlfriend applied to five jobs, but their phone was shut off this morning so it’s urgent that they pay their bill.

we were able to get some necessities early last month due to peoples help, but we can’t make it stretch with 8 people. it’s a shitty situation all around and I wish we didn’t have to ask but until my gf can get a job and I can find out exactly what’s wrong with me, this is literally all we have.

I’m not gonna link my PayPal anymore because people are harassing me with my deadname

my cashapp is $silvertheestallion and my gfs is $Peachjammn

my Venmo is cherryadventure2

thank you so much for reading

[stuckinapril]

One day I’ll go through med school and then I’ll go through residency and then I’ll go through a fellowship and then I’ll be the most crybaby neurosurgeon you could think of. Bursting into tears if I so much as graze ur hypothalamus with my forceps

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Here’s a sort of…. Prompt? Headcanon? Idea?? For Danny Phantom.

Let’s go with the,, semi-fanon idea of cores. We see the Far Frozen with ice powers, with their whole little civilization. They are ALSO the only ghosts we see that have any medical knowledge.

So what if ghosts with ice cores had healing powers? Danny is very durable, but he also (probably) has advanced healing.

Idk, it’d be a fun possibility to explore Danny ‘plays as a tank in irl superheroics 4 times out of 5’ Phantom finding out he can heal people while doing a school-mandated cpr class.

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I am once again going down the rabbit hole of trying to figure out the ages of the Gallifrey characters

[lizzzieread]

Going to the doctor, tomorrow, and finally opening up to my pcp about a lot of health issues that I’ve been experiencing for a while now. Some of it is stuff I’ve mentioned to him before, but some of it is new. I’m pretty nervous about it, actually. I’ve had severe dizziness, fatigue, and shortness of breath for four months now, and I’m hoping that I can go through testing or something so I maybe we can do something about it and I won’t have to sacrifice school or work or both because my body can’t function properly.

[brontes]

if you could, please pray that I stay healthy? My husband has had a really rough sore throat for several days now (almost a week) but I’ve been feeling fine until today. And today marks 3 weeks left until my due date. And I’ve got doctor’s appointments I can’t miss and work and church obligations and plans and I’m also afraid that Jane might come early and I don’t want the first thing I give my newborn daughter to be a cold.

[kiki-strike]

PTSD is so stupid saw a jar of biscoff cookie butter at the store and went ha that’s the brand they had in res. (Completely unaffected). Then went home and had a panic attack about it (????)

[moss-is-a-frog]

[Me very very subtly to my friend in front of my very cool history teacher] have you watched the new episode of DOCTOR WHO? no? Yeah it was good I liked it you should totally check out DOCTOR WHO…. Yeah I know lots of episodes I’ve actually watched CLASSIC WHO myself mmm. Anyways need to finish RED DWARF now.