#pretty sure feeling numb like this is part of my medication

[itsyourstarboy]

I don't know what I'm wanting right now, but I feel needy

#food? #water? #hugs? #ill never know #pretty sure feeling numb like this is part of my medication #🐏💎

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader

Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.

Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)

Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️

⭐️My requests are open!

Other parts here!!

~~~~

Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.

The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.

“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.

“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back

The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.

“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.

You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.

——

Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.

“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned

“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.

“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.

“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.

“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia

“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”

“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy

“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted

“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.

“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace

“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed

“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy

“Piss off bronze” you sulked

———

Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.

Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.

“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed

“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied

“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”

“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.

“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”

“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled

“i miss you so much” she sighed

“i miss you too baby” you agreed

———

Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.

“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.

“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.

“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”

“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.

You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.

The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.

——

The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.

“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.

“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.

“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.

You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.

You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.

As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.

Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.

Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.

You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.

“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.

“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.

Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.

“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk

“Hmm yes a little” you smiled

“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia

“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed

“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.

——

You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.

The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.

However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.

The save never came.

Everything went silent.

Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.

Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.

——

Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.

The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.

To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.

“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face

“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman

“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.

——

The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.

That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.

Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.

“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you

“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.

Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.

A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.

You screamed out in pain as everything went black.

“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.

“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.

Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.

“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.

She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.

You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.

“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.

Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.

“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.

“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.

The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.

As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.

Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.

After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.

“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes

“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly

“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.

“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.

“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.

“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine

A steady heart beat filled the room.

A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.

The baby was okay.

“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba

“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.

Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.

“Alexia” you called

“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.

“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.

“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister

“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona

[reiding-writing]

hiii, i hope you're well! i saw that you are taking requests for spencer and i really like your angst fics so i was wondering if you could write one with unrequited love?

preferably bau!reader who has feelings for him but he doesn't and she watches him get with someone else and everybody knows how she feels about him but he is oblivious, ending is up to you but i love me a sad ending heheh 😸

transgression [ s.r ]

You’re in love with Spencer Reid. He’s in love with somebody else.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MAEVE ARC, LOTS of misunderstanding, Spencer is kind of a bad friend, lots of arguing, major character death

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 8.2k || masterlist!!

a/n: sorry for the delay, but i did warn you it was gonna be long so- also i listened to ceilings on repeat whilst writing this so take that as you will 🫶

did i bend the maeve arc to my will for this fic? yes. yes i did.

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @babyspiderling @marsxoxo2 @vytvyvy @hpstuff244444 @frostooo @ohmysw33 @radioactiveinvisible @devilsadvcte @the-local-pendeja @kakashis-formal-simp @robinswrld

You suppose you did it to yourself.

Spencer’s migraines had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months, and after a few consecutive days of hounding him, he’d finally decided to go and see a medical professional about it.

You’d expected him to come back with news about how his brain stem was too active from how hard he was working himself, or that he’d managed to raise his blood pressure to an unhealthy high from all the stress he was under.

Instead he’d told you that they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him and that he’d been referred to a geneticist to check if the cause of his sudden mind-numbing aching was due to an underlying condition that might have been passed down from his mother.

He’d come back and forth to you for weeks about his phone calls with the doctor.

How she was helping him with his sleep deprivation.

How she was helping to manage his diet.

How she loved classic literature.

How she and him had spent four consecutive hours on the phone debating over the logistics of a novel they both enjoyed.

You could see the change happening before your eyes, and you weren’t the only one either.

“Pretty boy’s chipper this morning,” Morgan joins you at the kitchenette, his eyes following Spencer as he takes a seat at his desk with all of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy who’d been let off his leash for the first time.

You hum with a nod, focusing your attention on the two cups of coffee you were making, heaping tablespoons of sugar into Spencer’s Doctor Who mug to satisfy his insatiable need for sweetness. “They’re reading a book together,”

“Really?” You respond to Morgan’s raised eyebrow with a short nod and another hum.

“Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton, apparently she finds the religious analysis ‘fascinating’,” You can’t help the small contemptment that seeps into your tone as you reiterate what Spencer had told you to Morgan, and you can practically feel his pitiful gaze as he watches you make your coffee.

“I’ve heard of that book before from somewhere,”

“I tried to get him to read it a few months ago,” You take a sip of your coffee at the end of your sentence, barely able to taste it over the scolding water but not finding the mind to care.

You leave your conversation with Morgan at that, taking the two mugs in your hands and walking back into the bullpen, placing Spencer’s mug in front of him and walking around the cluster of desks to reach your own.

He’s sure he doesn’t need to verbalise it, but Morgan feels increasingly sorry for your situation, noting how you skirt past Spencer’s “thank you” without a response as you bury your head in your files.

he can’t imagine how much the fact that Spencer had seemingly formed a crush on his geneticist ripped you apart.

And the worst part? He’d never met her in person.

All scientific laws of attraction be damned, Spencer Reid had fallen in love with someone he’d never met in the span of three months, and you we’re resigning yourself to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man you had been in love with for six years find the happiness that you longed for with somebody else.

How you managed to keep up your facade you didn’t know.

You’d offered him change for the pay phone he’d call her from when he was running short. You’d let him rant to you about her opinions on a novel that you had failed to get him to read. You made excuses for him to leave the office early so that he could spend his time on the phone with her.

You were the one that sent him to the hospital and caused him to meet her in the first place.

He never hesitated to remind you of that fact, thanking you vicariously every time he relayed his conversations with the doctor back to you.

As the weeks progressed he stopped calling her that. She wasn’t ‘the doctor’ anymore. She was Maeve.

He didn’t call you by your first name and you’d known him for ten times longer that he’d known her. He didn’t even call Morgan by his first name and those two were practically brothers.

And that part was probably what hurt the most.

Maeve.

A name of Irish origin meaning ‘intoxicating’. How fitting.

Apparently the Irish goddess of love and desire was named Maeve. You could see the glimmer in Spencer’s eye that told you his Maeve was just as important as the mythological goddess he was describing.

His Maeve.

“So why haven’t you two actually gone on a date or anything?” You take a sip from the mug in your hands, swivelling your chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot. “You’ve been talking for what, four months now? Surely it’s about time you actually met her in person,”

“It’s complicated,” Spencer sighs as he collects the loose papers he was working on in a pile. He didn’t want to divulge Maeve’s issues without her permission.

“You’ve been saying that for the last six weeks Spencer,” You roll your eyes as you discard your half-empty mug on the table. “If I didn’t know any better i’d say you’re putting it off,”

Spencer shook his head adamantly at your suggestion. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He did want to meet her. Desperately. He’d wanted to meet her since the end of their first phone call. But he also wanted to keep her safe.

How do you meet up with somebody who’s hiding from a stalker without endangering them?

“I do want to meet her. It’s just- she’s dealing with something personal and it’s put a rift our plans, that’s all,”

“So it’s her not wanting to meet up with you then?” You raise an eyebrow at him over your desks.

“Look it’s- You don’t get it okay? It was a mutual understanding from both of us.” You can hear Spencer’s tone become more defensive as you spoke, and you raised both of your hands in surrender.

“Okay, i’m sorry for prying-” You ended your apology with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite feeling your heart deflate in your chest at the way the friendliness his his eyes fizzled out the longer you looked at him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer’s late to work this morning.

It’s 8:06 when he finally walks through the glass doors, the coffee you made him stone cold after sitting lamely on his desk for the better part of twenty minutes. He doesn’t so much as offer an apology as he picks up the mug and makes his way over to the kitchenette to pour the coffee down the sink.

You follow behind him in a mix of intrigue and a want to refill your own mug, swilling it out with some water as you watch Spencer load a coffee pod into the machine. “Phone call last longer than you expected?”

“Hm? Oh- yeah, we were discussing the literary analysis of Annabelle Lee,” Spencer’s demeanour seems to brighten immediately once he’s given an opportunity to discuss the details of his phone call with Maeve, although the beginning of his ramble is quickly cut off by the beeping of the coffee machine.

You wait patiently for his coffee to finish before you begin making yours, raising an eyebrow as Spencer pulls out a regular teaspoon instead of the usual tablespoon he’d incorrectly use to load his coffee with sugar.

Your intrigue only heightened when he pulled a carton of milk from the mini-fridge. Not even normal milk. Soy milk.

“Since when do you drink coffee like a normal person?”

His eyes flickered from his mug to your face as he tipped a single teaspoon of sugar into his drink before replacing the bag back where it came from. “It’s a part of my managed diet, Maeve thinks that my increased sugar intake might be one of the risk factors for my headaches,”

“Did she tell you to put soy milk in it too?” You don’t know why you have the urge to be petty, Spencer had long since needed to change his coffee drinking habits for the sake of decreasing his sugar intake and Maeve’s suggestions were beneficial for his health.

It was just the fact that it was her that ticked you off.

“She did actually, it provides the same amount of riboflavin as cow’s milk, which acts as a soothing agent whilst also helping constrict inflamed blood vessels, but without all of the excess fats in regular milk that might make my migraines more frequent, it’s genius really,”

He thought that her ideas were genius. Him. Mr ‘I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187’, thought someone else’s ideas were genius.

You’re sure that he already knew the benefits of milk alternatives, and yet he attributed the ‘revelation’ of what they could do to Maeve. Of course he did.

“When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?” The question comes out much harsher than you intend it to, and you can tell by the way Spencer furrows his eyebrows that he’s taken offence to it.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” No it didn’t. “I’m just a little surprised that someone as independent as you is so… willing to follow blind instructions,” Your attempt at saving yourself half-works, that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears and you can see that the glimmer in his eyes is returning slowly.

“She’s a doctor, of course i’m going to follow her suggestions,”

You give him a soft nod as you pick up your mug from under the coffee machine. “Yeah, no, that makes sense, it’s just a little surprising is all,”

You don’t give him a chance to respond to you before you’re walking away from the kitchenette to retake a seat at your desk, fearing you might say something out of pocket if you continue the conversation any longer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You were really pissed off now.

You’d arrived back in Quantico three days ago, and you were still piled up to your neck in paperwork.

Maybe you would’ve had it finished by now if Spencer would stop talking about the fact that he was “-finally going to meet Maeve in person,”.

You had half the mind to snap and tell him to just shut up, although by the saving grace of Morgan you thankfully didn’t have to.

“Reid, give their poor ears a break man,” Your thankful for Morgan in times like this. He knew you were knee-deep in your feelings for Spencer, and he knew that every time Spencer so much as spoke Maeve’s name it carved another hairline fracture in your heart.

You were close to shattering, and Morgan could tell.

“Oh- right, sorry,” Spencer offered you an awkward smile which you mirrored back at him.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” You shake your head in a polite dismissal of his apology before turning your head back down towards your files.

“I take it you’re nervous then?” Alex’s voice cut through the beginning of an awkward tension between the two of you as she entered to bullpen with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Well- I mean- you know…” Upon being unable to find a sufficient response, Spencer resorts to shrugging into his chair. “I just don’t want to ruin anything,”

“But aren’t you curious what she looks like?” Alex raises an eyebrow with concern like Spencer was he son going on his first ever date.

“it doesn’t matter what she looks like I mean- she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me it’s just-”

You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation.

You sudden upheaval from your desk stops Spencer’s sentence as his eyes follow you across the bullpen and out of the glass doors, followed shortly by Morgan as he jogs after you.

“Hey- Wait up a minute-” Morgan catches your arm before you have a chance to get in the elevator, and as you turn your eyes towards him he can see the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..”

Morgan can do nothing more than pull your head into his shoulder and wrap his arms tightly around your back with a soft mutter of your name. “I know kid, I know…”

“He thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” You turn your head up from Morgan’s shoulder to meet his eyes, a single stray tear cascading down your cheek, illuminated under the florescent lights. “How am I supposed to compete with that..?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Incidentally, Spencer’s date with Maeve didn’t end up happening. Conflicting work schedules or something, you weren’t really listening.

Maybe all of your subconscious thoughts had leaked into reality and finally gave you momentary release from the crushing defeat of having Spencer go on a date with someone else.

Maybe it was them punishing you further by forcing you to sit through him rant about the book she’d left him at the front of the restaurant.

It didn’t help that you already had a headache that made it feel like your eye sockets were being kicked by an annoying kid sat behind you on an aeroplane, leaving a dull ache in it’s wake and making you just want to bury yourself in a hole and hibernate.

“And right at the back she wrote ’Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another’ it’s a quote from-”

“Thomas Merton. Yeah, I know.” You dig the knuckle of your left thumb into cavity of your eye socket over your closed eyelid, hoping to relieve some of the tension that’s lingering there and disrupting your thoughts.

“Thomas Merton’s ‘Love and Living’ specifically,” If Spencer noticed your discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s a collection of his essays on the importance of love to live, so for her to have written it specifically knowing that I would read it means-”

“Reid.”

Your tone stops him from continuing any further, and he blinks at you with that sweet puppy-dog expression that would usually have you weak at the knees.

“No offence, but I don’t care about your over-the-phone girlfriend or the quote that she wrote in your book.” Your tone carried a harshness to it that Spencer wasn’t used to hearing from you. It was cold and detached and not like you at all.

“Are- you okay?”

“No, Reid, I’m not, and if you’d bothered to ask about my life every once in a while instead of using me like a human diary maybe you would’ve realised that already.”

You practically slam your file closed as you speak, pushing your chair out from your desk and leaving him sat in shock at your sudden change in attitude.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

After a bit of introspection, Spencer did realise that he hadn’t been treating you very fairly. He hadn’t asked you how your life had been in 3 months and 26 days. Four of those days he’d spent in damn near radio silence. He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.

He missed you.

It was a bit ironic considering you sat directly opposite him for almost eight hours a day five days a week, but after you’d snapped at him last week, he truly realised just how much of his day he spent socialising with you, and just how much he missed talking to you.

So he decided that he was going to apologise.

And what better form of an apology for being dismissive of your feelings than putting a personal effort into something for you.

He walked into the office that morning with a leather bound copy of The Parasite by Arthur Conan Doyle stored cautiously in his messenger bag, pages scrawled with annotations from Spencer’s own reading of the novel that he hoped would be insightful to you as you read it yourself.

He’d remembered you saying how much you wanted to read the novel a few months ago, so he figured giving it to you as a personalised apology would show that he really did care about you and had listened to what you’d told him.

“Are you busy?” Spencer asks, though he already knows the answer to the question.

He’d been watching you from the other side of the room all morning, hoping for a moment or two of eye contact to see if there was a possibility of a conversation. A look from one to the other; even a smile would’ve been enough to make him feel validated and content. And he would have been willing to settle for that.

But you never looked up. Not even once.

"Mhm," You continue to not spare Spencer so much as glance as he speaks, turning over the page of the file you were working through.

“Can I take a minute of your time?” He tried to catch your gaze again, only to be met by your continued focus on your work. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your work routine, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you sooner rather than later.

“Please,” he said softly. “It’s important.”

You exhale heavily through your nose, exasperation written clearly in your expression as you leave your pen as a page marker to close the manilla folder on your desk. You turn your head upwards, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands to agitatedly indicate for him to continue.

You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt being so openly cold towards Spencer, but you’d reached a breaking point, and you couldn’t bare sitting idly on the sidelines and letting him tear your heart to pieces anymore.

Spencer was relieved that you’d granted him your attention, but the look you directed towards him was enough to make him wince. You weren’t looking at him through a lens of indifference but rather cold, hard disappointment.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather the right words for what he had to say.

“I’m sorry,”

He seemed almost breathless as he spoke, like he’d just finished a tangent about something without taking the time to breathe. “I know that I’ve been spending too much time talking about Maeve and not enough paying attention to you.”

"You don’t say," You mutter the words under your breath to yourself, but your sure that Spencer heard you based on the way his eyebrows knit and the small gleam of hope in his eyes dwindles to barely a flicker.

He was trying not to react to your snide comment. Spencer knew that your tone didn’t leave any room to deny your meaning. He’d been selfish in talking exclusively about his relationship and hadn’t realised how it was affecting you.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated. “You mean so much to me and I haven’t been showing that.”

"Thank you," Your thanks are polite but dismissive, like you were acknowledging his apology but choosing to not actually consider it as one, and it left Spencer with an expression of clear frustration.

He was used to being able to read your facial expressions and emotions in the past, but now you were just an unreadable wall of disappointment. He had hoped the apology would've been enough, but it was clear that you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

Time to pull out the last resort.

He bent over and fumbled with his bag for a few moments before pulling out the novel he’d brought with him face up.

“I uh… got you this,” He holds out the book towards you. “You said you wanted to read it right? So I uh.. annotated it for you to make it more enjoyable,”

You take the novel from him with a raised eyebrow as your eyes scan the cover, a clear flicker of confusion in your expression.

Spencer noticed your expression and furrowed his own brow in confusion. You didn't seem to recognise the book. In fact, the look on your face made him wonder whether you even knew this book existed at all before this moment.

“I hope you… like it,” he said nervously. “I was going off what you'd talked about before. You mentioned the book was a classic?”

"I… have never seen this book in my life,”

“B-But…” Spencer knew this was going to be awkward at some point, but he'd hoped not this early into the conversation. He could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment, and it was only getting worse as he searched your face for an answer to this awkward situation.

“I… swear I heard you mention it once.”

You give him a short shake of your head and a pursed smile of awkward thanks as you put the book down on your desk.

Spencer looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. He hadn't even been able to deliver an apology properly, let alone make you feel special like he'd originally intended to.

How had he gotten it wrong? He had an eidetic memory for god’s sake.

When you put the book down on your desk, his eyes flicked back to the book. He'd spent almost 4 hours annotating and researching it and now it felt like all that effort had been wasted.

If you hadn’t mentioned it then who had? Someone must’ve. Someone he obviously equated with you to the point where he’d somehow managed to override his eidetic memory to mix the two of you up.

It takes him a few moments before you hear him whisper out a name under his breath, the palm of his hand dragging down the front of his face at the realisation.

"Maeve…"

The mention of her name had your eyes flickering away from the leather cover and right back to Spencer’s face, awkwardness completely rid of your features and replaced with a mix of negativity that Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to dig into.

"Are you serious?" Your words come out less questioningly and more accusatory, and you hold the book up so that he can see it once more, the gold embossing on the cover glinting under the overhead light as if to only taunt Spencer further for his mistake.

“You apologise for continuously disregarding me for your girlfriend by giving me a book that she showed interest in?”

You could see Spencer's face fall as your words sink in.

He hadn't even taken the time to think over what he was apologising with. It was almost as if his brain automatically just reverted back to his girlfriend's interests as an escape from dealing with his own guilt and sadness.

"Damn it," he whispered to himself. And in that moment he realised he'd just committed the biggest crime someone could make when trying to apologise.

“Like you constantly flaunting your relationship in my face verbally wasn’t bad enough.”

"I'm sorry I-" he says again, voice teeming with sincerity and guilt.

"You are truly and utterly unbelievable Spencer Reid." Your words didn’t carry anger as much as they did disappointment, and he could see the astoundment in your eyes as you pushed your chair backwards to stand, dropping the book straight in the trash bin by your desk before walking off.

It’s where it belongs; Right alongside the small sliver of respect you still had for him.

Spencer could've said so much more: he could've admitted how ashamed he felt for his careless actions and he could've apologised again and again a million times if it meant you'd stick around and give him a chance to make it up to you.

But you had already made it clear that you weren't in the right state of mind to discuss this matter further.

The best thing he could do now was give you space as he watched you walk away, a deep pain in his heart that slowly ate him alive from the inside.

He’d well and truly fucked up.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You were bordering tears by the time you reached Garcia’s office, unintentionally interrupting her lunch break with Alex in the process, though the two seemed to care less about the interruption and more about the fact that you liked like you were about to cry your eyes out.

You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you try to tape together the cracks in your composure, although with every one you seal three more seem to appear in it’s place.

“I-” You can barely get the first word out before the tears start rolling down your face, and Alex immediately stands from her seat to guide you to sit in her place.

“Hey, you’re alright, slowly,” Alex’s hands find your shoulders and rub reassuring circles against your shirt. The slow breath you take in doesn’t stop the flood of tears that’s blurring your vision, and you only manage to get out a single word, but it’s all the two need to understand what’s got you so overwhelmed.

“Spencer-”

“I swear I am two seconds away from smacking that boy over the back of the head,” You can hear the clear frustration in Garcia’s tone. “Surely he’s got to realise how much he’s hurting you by now,”

“He does… I lashed out at him and then left to come here…” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand alongside a small sniffle, trying to rid your vision of it’s blurriness from your tears.

“Good, the boy deserves to have some sense knocked into him,” You appreciate Garcia taking your side, but you can’t help that small lingering feeling of guilt that invades the back of your mind.

“He’s just in love, it’s not his fault…” The words almost physically pain you to say. The verbal acceptance that Spencer Reid was indeed in love with somebody. Somebody who wasn’t you.

“That doesn’t mean that he should be disregarding you though sweetheart,” Alex’s tone is soft and almost maternal, and your sure that it doesn’t help how emotional you are.

Garcia’s right hand reaches forward to straighten out the collar of your shirt, unintentionally crumpled as you try to wipe your face of your emotions. “You’re his friend, and you have been his friend for longer than he’s known this girl he’s talking to, it’s not fair for him to completely push you to the side,”

Garcia was right. It’s not fair. Nothing about how Spencer had been treating you since he’d started speaking to Maeve had been fair. And you were done making excuses for the boy just because you knees deep in your feelings for him.

You didn’t deserve to feel guilty. You didn’t deserve to feel bad for lashing out at Spencer for apologising for not showing interest in your life by further proving just how little he’d actually payed attention to you. You didn’t deserve to cry because he was the most stupid genius to ever live and couldn’t see that you were hopelessly in love with him. You didn’t deserve to suffer by his hand.

It wasn’t fair.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Maeve’s been kidnapped.”

You have to consciously suppress the small voice in the back of your head that celebrates the possibility that she might not be a part of Spencer’s life for much longer. It’s a horrible thought. You should never wish ill upon anyone, no matter how much you internally despised them.

Still, that part of you that was still petty, that was still infuriated with Spencer and Maeve, wanted you to tell Spencer straight to his face that you weren’t going to help him find her and that it was karma for how he’d treated you.

But you weren’t a bad person.

As much as you might hate her, she was still important to Spencer.

“I have a wealth of knowledge i should be applying to this case, but- i can’t focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time… which makes me the dumbest person in the room-” Spencer’s eyes are full of desperation as they scan across your teammates.

“So please help me… Please help me find her…” The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking, the remnants of tears staining his face as he explains the context of the situation through broken sentences.

“We don’t have an official case, so we’ll be working on personal time,” Hotch’s voice is much quieter than you’re used to. Softer, more considerate. “Does anybody want to leave?”

You can feel his eyes linger on you as he asks the question, and you subconsciously purse your mouth into a tight line to stop yourself from impulsively pulling out of the investigation.

You might be detrimentally frustrated with him, but you did want to help. Even if it ultimately resulted in your downfall.

Hotch gave you a short nod before turning to the rest of the team. “Good, let’s get to work,”

It didn’t take Garcia very long to track Maeve down, mostly attributed to her unique name and specialised job.

Dr. Maeve Donovan, a professor at Mendel University who took a sabbatical leave 10 months ago.

The group split into different groups once they’d found her, JJ and Morgan heading off to a loft her parents owned, Alex and Rossi heading to the lab she used to work at, and you and Hotch, accompanied by Spencer, going to speak to Maeve’s parents.

“Reid,” Garcia’s tone is soft as she looks over her laptop screen towards him as he begins to stand from the conference table. “I have a picture of her, do you want to know what she looks like?”

“No,”

Spencer’s answer is immediate, joined by a shake of his head.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You and Spencer watched from behind the one way mirror as the interview progressed.

They’d last spoken to Maeve five days ago. Her mother had cancer. She was also a geneticist. They were suspicious of her ex fiancé Bobby.

Her fiancé?

You can see Spencer’s face drop at the words despite the low lighting in the room, and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows yourself.

She had a fiancé?

Spencer practically storms out of the office after the questioning is over, and Hotch has to remind him to calm down as they reach the apartment of Robert Putnam with Morgan and Rossi in tow.

When the door opens the five of you aren’t greeted by Robert, but rather a girl, a girl who looked very confused.

You invite yourselves inside at the girl’s recognition that Robert was inside the apartment.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Diane, his girlfriend,” She raised an eyebrow as the five of you looked around, confusion cut short as Robert rounds the corner questioning the sudden voices coming from his living room.

“Hey babe what’s-“

“Robert Putnam, FBI we’d like to-” Spencer’s voice cuts him off harshly as he rushes to speak, although he stops his sentence halfway as a flicker of recognition falls across his features and his anger turns to dread.

“Hey, I know you,” Robert doesn’t have the time to say anything else to Spencer before Hotch forces him out of the room, shutting the door behind him to speak to Spencer privately whilst you Morgan and Rossi remained inside.

Hotch returned a few minutes later. Spencer didn’t.

You end up taking Hotch’s place as you push yourself out of the apartment with a small “excuse me,” to follow after Spencer as he walks out of the apartment building.

“Spencer- wait up a minute-”

He doesn’t stop at your call, and you’re practically running down the stairs by the time you get to him, already out of the front doors of the apartment building.

“Hey-” You take a second to catch your breath before turning your eyes back towards him again. “Are you alright?”

You could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes as he met your gaze.

The last time you spoke to him you threw away any remnant of your friendship with him in the bin alongside the book he’d given you, and now here you were, chasing after him to make sure that he was okay.

“Why did you agree to help?”

Your face falls from concern to surprise at his question, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I know that you don’t like her, so why are you here?” You could see the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed with how the investigation was going.

“She’s important to you Spencer. Like her or not I care about you. So therefore I care about her,” You don’t think as you speak, words spilling out of your mouth with no conscious filter.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s apology elicits a sigh from your mouth, and you shake your head softly at him.

“Forget it, let’s focus on getting Maeve home safe alright?” He obliges to your request with a purse of his lips and a small nod, turning his eyes towards the ground.

“What’re you thinking about?” His eyes fall on yours once more at your question, round with confusion and glistening with the starts of tears. “I can see it in your face, you’re calculating something in your head,”

He exhales through his mouth in a small laugh. You’d always been able to figure him out, and not just because you were a profiler.

“2,412 hours,” His tone is uncertain, mixed between gratefulness for you observance and something far more upsetting. “That’s how long Maeve and I have contacted each other counting letters and phone calls…”

“That’s what-” You take a second to do the calculation in your head. “100 days?”

“100.5…” He runs his hand backwards through his hair, pressing his eyes closed like he’s afraid tears will spill from them if he doesn’t. “What if that’s all I get?”

“It won’t be Spencer…”

“You don’t know that-“

“Yes Spencer, I do,” You have to consciously suppress the sigh that threatens to leave your mouth, pushing your lingering distaste for Maeve down with it. “She is going to be fine, I promise,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Turns out Maeve’s ex fiancé wasn’t the stalker. In fact, he was being stalked himself, and whilst JJ and Garcia were looking over the images posted to Robert whilst him and Maeve were still together they discovered something that changed the entire direction of the investigation.

Maeve’s face had scribbled out in eyeliner.

You and the team spent the next thirty minutes rebuilding the profile from the bottom up.

“Celebrity stalkers are usually non violent,”

“You want to tell that to John Lennon Rossi?” Spencer looked up from his lap towards the group at the table, having separated himself from the group to sit on a sofa lining one of the walls so he couldn’t bias the profile.

It wasn’t going too well.

“What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him?” Spencer stood from his seat, anger flaring in his nostrils. “‘It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided’,”

You could hear the rise in his tone as he worked himself up the more he spoke.

“Spencer-“

“Maeve is somebody. And this- bitch is a nobody.”

“Spencer.”

Spencer caught your gaze, and immediately fizzling out of his eyes and replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry- I can’t be very helpful right now I should leave-“

“Yes you can Reid, you have 100.5 days of communication with this girl and a recall everything verbatim,” Morgan’s gaze is entirely concerned with Spencer’s outburst.

“There’s too much of it, and I can’t sort through any of it clearly-“ Spencer is clearly on the edge of breaking, and you can tell he’s not going to be able to keep his composure for much longer.

“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you,” Hotch leaned his elbows against the table, his voice again portraying that soft, parental tone that said he knew how overwhelmed Spencer was getting.

Spencer didn’t even say anything, his eyes just silently flickered over to you and you knew you couldn’t refuse him.

You return his silence as you get up from your seat and pat your hand on his shoulder for the two of you to exit the room together.

Time to torture yourself for the sake of Spencer’s wellbeing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Diane Turner, a research assistant working for her PhD in the same lab as Maeve. A student who had her thesis rejected because it contained a heavy sample bias that included both of her parents.

It took a while, but Garcia eventually managed to track down a loft that was owned under Diane’s parents’ names, less than 10 minutes away from Maeve’s apartment.

“Take your gun and vest off,” Diane’s voice is harsh through the receiver attached to the front of the building, and Spencer’s eyes flickered up from the silk blindfold in his hands to the metal box.

He doesn’t question the orders as he immediately begins stripping the vest from his torso, dropping it and his gun on the floor.

“Now come in alone.”

“Spencer.” You call out to him as he reaches for the door handle, and he gives you that look that makes your stomach do flips in your torso. Except this time it’s not that pleasant fluttery feeling, but instead an existential dread at the fact that he might not walk out of the building alive.

“I’ll be okay,” He gives you a nod of reassurance as he pushes the door open, and you find yourself clenching your hands around your gun to stop yourself from following after him.

The six of you wait outside for what feels like hours, and you lean back and forth on the balls of your feet as you become increasingly restless with the situation.

Then, a gunshot.

And a second.

And your heart drops in your chest.

You’re not entirely present as you rush into the building with the team following behind you, gun raised at your eyes.

Spencer had to be okay. He had to. He was going to be fine. You were going to walk into that room and he was going to be perfectly fine.

You hoped Maeve was alright too. As much as she was unintentionally causing you literal hell, you knew that she meant everything to Spencer.

You knew that he’d choose her over anything. He’d choose her over you.

And right now you don’t care. You just want him to be okay.

You force the door open to the loft with your foot, gun pointed straight ahead at the first person you see.

“Stay back-“ Spencer practically shouts from where he’s half lying on the floor, right hand clutching tightly at his left bicep, trails of blood cascading down his fingers and onto the floor.

“Stay back stay back don’t shoot-“

You let out an audible sigh at the fact that Spencer wasn’t critically harmed, although upon a whimper of his name from further across the room you turn your eyes up to the noise.

And you finally meet the girl that’s caused you ten months of hell. Held at gunpoint.

That small voice in the back of your head tells you that this might be your chance to finally rid her from your life, to let her succumb to whatever Diane had planned and leave Spencer to you.

But you take one look at the desperation in her eyes and any loathing that remained in your mind immediately fizzled out.

It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She was just a girl that happened to be in love.

“Diane,” Spencer pushes himself to stand, and you can see the pain in his face as he does. “There’s still a way out of this,”

“You never wanted me. Never!” Diane pushes the gun she’s holding hard against Maeve’s neck, and you can see her eyes squeeze closed as she attempts to keep herself from crying. “You lied!”

“I didn’t.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, and you glance over at Hotch as you spread across the back of the room, guns raised in Diane’s direction. “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it,”

“Me for her. Let me take her place,”

You only have a view of the back of Spencer’s head now, but you can tell by the tone of his voice that his expression is a pure display of desperation, one that you’re happy you can’t see because you’d lose your composure in an instant.

“You would do that?” Diane’s question is angry and accusatory, tears rolling down her face as she presses the gun against Maeve’s neck once more.

Spencer nods with no threat in his tone. “Yes,”

“You would kill yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

You practically feel your heart stop.

“Thomas Merton,” Maeve’s voice is almost exactly as you imagined it to be. Soft, smooth and, as Spencer had called it all those months ago, ‘dipped in honey’.

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane’s tone contrasts Maeve’s tenfold, pitchy, uneven and overrun with manic anger.

“He knows,” You can see Maeve’s eyes flicker, and you assume that they meet Spencer’s as his shoulders drop. “He knows.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane shakes Maeve in her grasp as if to intensify the urgence of her question, and you tighten your grip on your gun in instinctual response. “Who is he?”

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve’s voice is confident and defiant despite the clear tears in her eyes.

Thomas Merton could’ve been something between Spencer and you.

“No.”

You can see a clear change in Diane’s expression at Maeve’s words, and she lowers the gun from Maeve’s head only to hold it up against her own, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes.

“Wait-”

Spencer barely has time to shout the word before the gun fires, and you flinch at the sound as you watch Maeve and Diane both drop to the floor, dark red blood pooling around the two.

You can feel the tension in the room as everyone computes what just happened, guns lowering slowly as their eyes lock onto the two women on the floor.

You’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the tightness of Spencer’s shoulders as he takes sharp breaths in and out of his nose.

The way he seems to forget about the bullet wound in his arm as his legs give out underneath him.

The way a sob that leaves his mouth despite the fact that he tries to muffle it with his hand.

The way that Spencer broke.

He's crying. Big, heaving, heart-wrenching sobs.

His shoulders are trembling.

His hands are shaking.

His head is hanging downwards so that his hair is covering his face.

You approach him slowly, kneeling down at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His eyes slowly shift from Maeve, his sobs only seeming to amplify as he meets your gaze. His eyes are red and closely with tears, his cheeks running hot and his lips trembling.

You don’t speak, knowing that you’ll break if you do. Instead, you guide his head into your shoulder and let him crumble in your arms, grieving the loss of the love of his life.

You’re sure you’re going to cry yourself to sleep when you get home, but right now, you needed to be strong. For him.

“I’m so sorry-“ Spencer speaks through broken sobs as you hold him, the rest of the team moving to secure the scene.

“Shh,” You shake your head against his softly, rubbing the palm of your hand up and down his back as you let him cry until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“I treated you so horribly-“ He pulls away from your shoulder to look into your eyes once more. “I’m so sorry- Please don’t leave me…”

You purse your lips into a line, your expression full of so many emotions Spencer can’t distinguish any of them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You pull his head back into your shoulder, leaning your head against his. “I promise…”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 28

PREVIOUS

FF does not like being on pain medication.

Everything feels floaty and it is so hard to focus on anything around him.

He’s almost glad that his Gran has given him something to focus on that something being helping her sell her lie to the Foxes that she only knows Polish. Coach Wymack must know but the man is a steel trap and FF finds himself envying his Gran that HER secret keeper is Coach Wymack.

“Smithy! My sweet beautiful idiot!” Nicky cries when Gran gives Wymack the OK for them to come back in. FF finds himself on the receiving end of 2 forehead kisses and a kiss to each of his cheeks from Nicky. “Next time you see a crazy mafia hitman looking to kidnap me you just grab me and RUN.” He orders pointedly, “No more cool guy shit where you take ‘em out in the weird sex alley.” He runs his fingers through FF’s hair and…

Yeah it’s okay that Nicky is the one that knows.

Nicky is so nice.

“What about Aaron?” FF asks.

“If Romero could grab Aaron when he is in whacky inflatable tube mode then I don’t think he’d be taken out by you and Andrew.” Nicky says with a watery smile.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is offended.

“Learn to dance at a club already. We’ve been going for years.” Nicky shoots back but never takes his eyes off of FF’s face.

“I dance just fine. I’m better than Kevin.” Aaron argues.

“Hey.” Kevin’s voice is offended.

“You are better than Kevin, but that’s not a real standard of good.” Nicky dismisses, “Regardless, next time grab me and I’ll grab Aaron and the three of us can hide literally anywhere other than the weird sex alley. We could go to the back room with Roland or, if it means you not ending up in the hospital with a stab wound, I would even tolerate hiding down in the straight swingers club in the basement.” Nicky says.

He sees Andrew and Captain Neil tense off to the side.

Oh, that’s right.

Oh fun another lie for him to focus on instead of feeling floaty. Gran always talked about the virtue of telling the truth but the only thing set free would be Nicky in a club that he’s not supposed to know about.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Nicky.” FF says instead.

Nicky laughs and kisses his cheek one more time. “You’re my favorite family member now. Sorry Aaron, you’ve made me endure the horrors of a heterosexual relationship for too long.” Nicky says stroking  FF’s face as he looks up to where FF assumes Aaron is.

“Hey.” Aaron says in the exact same way he said earlier.

“Andrew-“ Nicky starts but is cut off.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nicky says, “Neil-“

“Nicky, I also don’t care.”

“At least you have one another to support each other.”

“Wait, what about me?” Kevin asks.

“You won’t even LEARN the family language Kevin, you were NEVER in the running for my favorite.” Nicky dismisses and doesn’t bother to turn back to the  “So Smithy is my favorite family member now with Aras coming in second.”

Two things strike FF in the wake of family conversation.

First, when in the world did Kevin get here? Why is he here? Is he going to ask the doctors to run tests on FF to figure out stealth mode?

Second, Nicky just used his Gran’s nickname. The nickname that causes FF no small amount of embarrassment. It was a youthful indiscretion! He had thought he understood Lithuanian quite well! He had wanted to impress his Great Gran and his Gran with his knowledge.

“You’re looking pale Smith, do you need more pain medication?” Captain Neil asks.

“No, I’m fine.” He is pretty sure that pain meds can’t numb the psychological pain of his friends hearing about his youthful mistakes and he doesn’t care how bad his stomach is going to hurt he wants to only take the absolute minimum amount of pain meds required to get through this so he can stop floating.

Having friends nearby makes it so much easier.

Conversations go on with him and around him. He’s tired still from everything and when a nurse comes in to try and give him more pain medication he declines. All present in the room except Gran try to convince him to take it but he declines all but the most minor amount to take the edge off.

He finally realizes that Kevin had not been with them and asks why the hell he’s here. He gets an answer that makes him reconsider being on any pain medication at all because it doesn’t really make any sense. Why in the world is Kevin telling him not to trust the nutritionist?

Neil lets him know that the FBI are going to be coming around at some point to talk to him. He says that Agent Browning is a dick but generally fine and that there will be a local agent Iruma Matsumoto stopping by before him, probably today. He looks right at Andrew and says “Yeah, I’ll talk with them about how Romero stabbed me.” Andrew lets out an amused puff of laughter that makes FF feel like he might be doing alright at this friendship thing.

He apologizes to Andrew that he can’t make the pie today and gets a flick to his ear.

He finds out that he slept through all of Saturday and that it is Sunday morning. Finds out that his Gran and Wymack had stayed over at the Columbia house last night and that Wymack has him excused from his classes this week. He also finds out that Nicky has given his grandma a key to the house in Columbia so she could stay there while she’s visiting him.

He apologizes to Nicky for messing up the clothes he’d let him borrow and earns another flick to the ear from Nicky.

Wymack hands him a new phone that Nicky has apparently set up for him. His lip quirks up slightly when he sees that Nicky registered it as ’Smithy’s phone’. Neil shows him some stuff since he has the same phone model but Andrew rolls his eyes.

“You’ve barely figured out how to set anything on your phone Junkie. You still haven’t even set a screen lock.” He says as he pulls Neil back from FF’s space.

“I’ve figured out how to change the notification ping.” Neil argues but lets himself be pulled away and if Andrew keeps his arm around Neil afterwards? No one comments on that.

He translates things for his Gran when it seems important for her to be able to respond to and helps Nicky with some pronunciations.

He falls asleep a couple times and wakes up to his friends and teammates in all sorts of different configurations. Nicky gets him some good sugar-free Jell-O from the nurses while Aaron smacks Kevin upside the head when Kevin complains that it’s not good for him and not part of the diet he’s making to get FF back on the Court ASAP. “He’s gotta be on a clear liquid diet for 24 hours after his surgery.” Aaron hisses.

“Why does it have to be clear? I can put it in a blender but it won’t be clear.” Kevin grumbles.

“He’s not going to be on puree’d food for at least two weeks idiot.” Aaron smacks his head again.

“Stop that.”

He hears from Wymack the other Freshman Dealer won’t be returning and that Sheena is now their only Dealer and she does not do defense well. Kevin’s disapproval for the Jell-O cups only grows stronger in light of this news. His grumbling only stops when Gran looks at him and says “Maybe someone should help you pull that stick out of your ass young man.” In her nicest most grandmotherly voice.

When Kevin turns to FF for a translation Nicky beats him to it, “She said a handsome young man like you shouldn’t ruin your face with worries.” He says without a hint that he’s lying.

Kevin preens at the grandmotherly approval of his looks and FF gets to know that he, Nicky and his grandma all have lying in common.

Eventually it’s lunch time and the natural hunger of college athlete boys trumps anything else. Kevin won’t eat anything at the cafeteria since he doesn’t trust the nutritionist so they agree to head out of the hospital to grab food. He’s more tired than hungry so he tells his Gran to go with them. She pats his face and promises she’ll be back with some clear soup for him per the Doctor’s order and despite Kevin’s grumbling that he could make a clear protein shake.

His Gran kisses his forehead and tells him that she’ll be back soon and that he should rest as much as he can.

***

FF can’t sleep.

He tried.

He really did.

But without the noise of everyone else his mind keeps going back to the last time he was in a hospital. He closes his eyes and he can see Gran’s pale face when she tells him that his dad didn’t make it and the tears when she tells him neither-

He can’t sleep.

So he gets up against medical advice and decides to go on a walk. He’s not been connected to any of the monitoring equipment since he had first woken up, just the IV keeping him hydrated. FF decides he wants to get his dad’s leather back because it would make him feel better. The leather jacket has weight that would keep his feet strictly on the ground and it’s something his Gran had given to him when he went off to college so that he could keep his dad close. He could call a nurse but it feels like he shouldn’t distract them with something as stupid as getting him his dad’s jacket so he doesn’t have a panic attack.

So he lets himself slip into the background and heads towards the nurse station. He thinks that might be where they’re holding his belongings. It’s a good first stop if nothing else.

He can’t help but notice a strange number of men in suits but figures that maybe they’re just there to talk to people who seem to have gotten caught up in some sort of mass casualty incident.

He makes it to the nurse station and when a whole 5 minutes goes by without a single nurse clocking that he exists he considers speaking up until he sees a nurse bagging up some clothes, slapping on a label, and heading away.

It’s nice when things work out for him.

Another suit wearing man comes up and a different nurse sees him there immediately and comes up, “What can I help you with?” She asks.

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Smith, he has a stab wound?” The man asks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The nurse responds with exasperation but FF is already almost out of earshot when he hears it because he’s following the nurse with the bag.

He follows her down the hallway and she thankfully takes an elevator instead of going down the stairs because FF doesn’t know how he would have gotten his IV stand down with him.

FF walks in with her and he watches her slump as the doors slide close. Relaxing like most people do when they think they’re alone. Her shoulders go straight back when the elevator opens again and he follows after her.

He follows her to a door that she unlocks and proceeds to enter and FF sees a room full of the same bags with belongs all tagged with a last name and a room number. “Christ, why are there so many fucking Smiths in here right now?” She grumbles but takes him straight to the S section and he sees his own ‘Smith’ and room number.

He grabs it and heads out the door before the nurse and heads into the elevator.

His phone pings with a text message. He opens it and sees a text from an unknown number.

“Come to the Cafeteria. - IM”

FF stares at his phone for a few minutes before the initials click.

Iruma Matsumoto, the local FBI agent who was coming to talk to him today according to Captain Neil. It’s weird to be texted like this but this is the first time he’s ever had to talk to the FBI. Maybe it’s normal? He doesn’t really want to bother Captain Neil about what getting interrogated by the FBI is like since Captain Neil is out at lunch.

He decides to go to the Cafeteria.

FF follows the directory in the elevator and then the arrows that point him towards the cafeteria. He takes a moment to pull his dad’s jacket out and it does help him feel better. He realizes the McDonald’s toy is still in his pocket and thinks that he really should probably turn that over to Agent Matsumoto.

When he gets to the cafeteria he sees even more of those guys in suits and then he sees a well dressed Japanese man sitting by himself at a table. FF has a moment where he thinks ‘Wow that FBI agent sure does look like a member of the Yakuza.’ Before he squashes it because ‘OMG that’s such a fucking racist thing to think. Thoughts from the abyss are the worst and Agent Matsumoto is probably a perfectly nice guy.’

He takes a seat in front of the man who is surrounded by two other of the men in black he’s seen. Oh that guy was probably looking for him to bring him here so they could have the talk.

None of the men seem to notice him and FF realizes that he’s still in stealth mode. He sets the bag with the rest of his clothes to the side and clears his throat.

Three sets of eyes are on him immediately and FF breathes through the anxiety as the two men at either side of Agent Matsumoto seem to reach for something at their holsters.

“Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” He says.

Captain Matsumoto raises a hand and the two men on either side of him return to an at ease position.

***

Ichirou Moriyama could admit to himself that he had been startled when a young man seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him without any warning. He sees a bulge in the man’s pocket that says that he’s armed and he could have done anything before bringing attention to himself. He had men throughout the hospital and no one has spotted Wesninski or any of his cohorts but they had their eyes peeled for the uninvolved civilian who had taken out Jackson on his own and had assisted Wesninski’s guard dog in taking out Romero.

Interesting.

Ichirou clasps his hands together in over the cafeteria table.

“Yes, let’s talk.” He agrees.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27��� @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themundanemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @cindersapsecrets​

The  requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few  different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I  promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be  something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

#Fluent Freshman AU #Guess who accidentally took FF's phone? #It's Neil #He realizes it halfway through the grocery store run #Sorry FF your grandma is now the Monster Grandma #She's got knitting projects planned for each of them #She's already asked about allergies #She jokingly tells Nicky she'll knit Kevin a muzzle because he's commented on the amount of butter she uses four times #He always shuts up when he eats it at least #Neil is blissfully unaware that he has FF's phone and FF has his #Some poor Moriyama grunts are wandering through the hospital having to check every single Smith room for the one they're looking for #Ichirou was planning some mild intimidation shit on Neil #But was hampered because JFC why so many Smiths #Does Ichirou know Smith's first name? #Perhaps #Does he use it? #Probably not #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #FF - Pt. 28

[astragreenwoode]

♡Treasure (Adventure Time Petrigrof AU)♡ PT 4/?

(A/N: Part 4. We're getting into heavy angst territory, so be prepared. Sorry to put you guys through heartbreak.

If you are sensitive to themes such as child loss/miscarriage, suicidal ideation, extreme grief, and hospitals, either proceed with caution or feel free to avoid this part altogether. Remember to look out for yourselves.)

♡ My AU where pretty much everything is the same as in canon except Betty is unknowingly pregnant with her and Simon's daughter when she jumps through the portal.

Italics - A/N

Slashed Text - NSFW

Bold Text - Sensitive Topics

A Bump in the Road

♡ When they got to the Emergency Room, the nurses immediately wheeled Betty to an examination room once they saw the trail of blood behind her and Simon. But they needed him to stay behind. They needed help from the hospital security to practically pry them away from each other so they could treat her.

♡ After an hour of waiting when Betty was finally stabilized, Dr. Olson, came out to give Simon the bad news; Betty experienced a late miscarriage. But during their treatment, they had to strap her down to the bed and give her a sedative so she wouldn’t worsen her injuries.

♡ Betty’s situation was time-sensitive. She was in danger of getting an infection, so after updating Simon, Dr. Olson performed a surgical evacuation immediately.

♡ "Princess, we can have another baby. But I can't have another you."

♡ Given Betty’s medical history, a recorded suicide attempt when she was 13 years old, and how she was so distressed that they had to sedate and restrain her, Dr. Olson put her on Suicide Watch, just to be on the safe side.

♡ Up until this point, Simon didn’t know her struggles with her mental health were this severe.

♡ In the meantime, he called Betty’s mother and told her what was happening. She was at the hospital within five minutes.

♡ Alice Grof had trouble warming up to Simon from the beginning. She never liked how he stopped Betty from going on that trip to the Outback. But her daughter was happy, and that’s what mattered the most. And while their relationship wasn’t the warmest, they respected each other. She comforted Simon whilst Betty was still in surgery.

♡ Betty recovers in the hospital for five more days, drained both physically and emotionally. When she first wakes up following the procedure, she’s unresponsive, almost catatonic, and withdrawn from reality to process all the trauma of the whole situation. Simon and Alice make sure she’s never by herself during those five days.

♡ Alice stays with her daughter one day so that Simon can go to their apartment and bring some of Betty’s stuff to the hospital to help her not be as anxious during her stay.

♡ The day before they were ready to go back home, Alice offered to tidy the place up so Betty could recover in a clutter and stress-free environment. She cleaned the blood off their sheets and carpet, made everything neat, stocked their fridge and pantries with food, and made sure their bathroom had the necessary medical supplies to help the healing process. She also hid all items related to their lost baby in a trunk in their hall closet, out of sight, and waiting for whenever Simon and Betty were ready to try again.

♡ When they came back home, they took three weeks off of work so they could mourn their loss together.

♡ Betty returns to taking all her regular antidepressants and antipsychotics. They stabilize her mood and help keep her focused and ‘normal’ when she returns to work, but she’s still numb and withdrawn for a while.

♡ She visits with her mom more frequently, going over to her and her partner Suzanne’s house once a week. The visits help her in her grief.

♡ When Betty started getting her period again, her heart shattered all over again. Simon asked her mother to come over for a few days. 

♡ Proceeding with caution, Simon asks her about what he discovered in the hospital. He wants to understand her past struggles with her mental health; the suicidal ideation in her childhood, the self-harm tendencies, the OCD, the ADHD, the bipolar disorder she inherited from her mother, her past of pain, all of it. He wants to know so he can fully understand how to help her if she spirals again in the future. 

♡ It’s hard for her to open up about that.

♡ Betty avoids intimate and vulnerable situations with Simon for a while. He doesn’t mind at all and is willing to wait as long as she needs. The farthest she’s willing to go is cuddling with him in her underwear. Two months after coming back from the hospital, they graduate to taking showers together again.

♡ At night, Betty still holds Simon’s hand to her stomach as they sleep in bed.

♡ She can still feel their baby kicking from time to time, like experiencing phantom pain after losing a limb.

♡ In an effort to help Betty heal and get back to her old self, Simon surprises her by taking her on a two-week vacation to Ireland; Betty’s dream trip.

♡ A week into the trip, they retire to their suite early after having dinner at the hotel restaurant along with a bottle of wine. And for the first time since their loss, Betty lets Simon all the way in. That night, they unknowingly conceive their future daughter.

♡ The day before they fly back home to Seattle, Simon proposes. Betty says ‘yes.’ And after three months of sitting with their heartbreak, they feel hopeful for what the future might bring them again.

♡ Two months into their engagement, Simon embarks on a solo journey to follow up on a lead for an especially rare artifact.

♡ We all know what happens from here; what was meant as an innocent and playful gesture sparked earth-shattering consequences.

♡ Betty is absolutely petrified by her fiancee’s abrupt personality switch once he puts on the mysterious crown. That wasn't her Simon. So, when a portal to the future opens showing her the fiancee she knew and loved, she doesn’t think twice before she impulsively jumps through a thousand years and into the land of Ooo.

♡ She's blissfully unaware that she didn't jump through that portal alone.

Reblog, follow me, and come back for Part 5!

#adventure time #betty grof #simon petrikov #my writing #astra greenwoode #adventure time au #AT AU #my aus #petrigrof #Truest Treasure AU #2024

[lukabitch]

I have a request but Idk if you have ever watched the Resident evil the final chapter movie (or the rest) so i will put a spoiler warning here lmao

Spoiler :

So Wesker Like gets his leg chopped off in the end by a door (i think it was a door) and he has to stay there until everything Explodes and he dies so i wanted to ask if you could maybe write something where the male reader is down there with alice and the others but when the others left the reader Hesitates for a second and decided to like get back to wesker, help him with his leg and get him out of the place before everything explodes, I imagine that the reader and wesker always had this like villain x Hero Releationship where they tease each other but never rly make a move because they fight on different sides but because the Reader has feelings for Wesker and Wesker was always like kinda nice to us we decide to save him and he is thankful and finally makes a real move (like a small kiss or something like that and maybe a confession) but then he teases us afterwards with his stupid Attractive smirk🙄 and we just laugh it off and slap him softly at the arm while smirking too

Im just down bad for this dude rn im so sorry💀 you ofc dont have to write that, you can just ignore it but i had that in mind for a while now and i cant get it out or write it myself because im bad at like everything in my existence, have a Great day/night <3

I appreciate the amount of detail you put into this. Seriously you went above and beyond the expectations on this blog. Thank you so much for the request Anon! :)

Cw: Blood, dismemberment, general medical stuff, i read the wiki still might be inaccurate.

“We’re gotta go!” Alice called out you and the rest of the crew. Everyone was quick to make their way to the exit. You however turned back and head further into the building. Your mind was fighting against what you were doing but another part of you was saying do it.

You moved fast not wasting a second to get to Wesker. Hearing him struggle made you worried that getting him out would be useless. Still you made it down to him without a leg.“Shit hold on!” Rushing over to him you immediately tied a makeshift tourniquet just below the knee.

You pulled him up and drag him out of the building. You got him in a car and fucking floored it. The building blew up shortly after getting the fuck out. “I need you to tell me where one of your safe houses are.” He mumbled an address as you make sharp turns.

“You’re a horrible driver.” Wesker chuckled out causing you to flip him off. “Don’t make me regret not leaving your ass.” You looked over to see him giving one of his signature smirks. “You love me too much to do that pretty boy.”

You haven’t really thought about your feelings for the man. The two of you always had this banter that was kind of flirty. Even if you wanted to go for it things just wouldn’t work out. “Yeah sure that’s exactly why I went back for you.” You tried to sound sarcastic but you didn’t sound sure of it.

Pulling into a driveway you hopped out and pulled Wesker out having him lean on you. It was a bit difficult to get him inside especially without the adrenaline. You managed though and got him laying down. “Look I’m going to cauterise the wound. Unless you have morphine in your pocket it’s going to hurt.”

He just nods his head bracing himself for the pain to come. There wasn’t much to do just heat some metal and press against the open wound. Wesker took it well considering though you weren’t too shocked about that. You wrapped up the wound the best you can.

“There you go sorry that I don’t have anything to numb it.” You smiled up at him before grabbing a blanket for him. “Thank you Y/n.” He pulled you down wrapping the blanket around both of you. This definitely isn’t how you expected today to go but you weren’t complaining.

“You look like a puppy leaning against me like that.” You would have talked back if he did kiss you on the lips. He watched your face darken with blush. “Thank you for coming back for me. I love you for it.” He seemed really sincere about it.

“I love you too wesker.” You mumbled giving him a peck on the cheek. “I know you do.” Of course he has to be a cocky asshole about it. You can’t help but smile at him you really do love him.

#dbd #dead by daylight #dbd x male reader #dbd killer #request #albert wesker #albert wesker x male reader #wesker x male reader #dbd wesker #dbd mastermind #dbd fanfic #re fanfic #resdient evil #resdient evil fanfic

[whumpacabra]

Day 9: Bees

Head injury, concussion, medical setting, semiconsciousness, implied captivity and torture, implied nonconsensual body modification [cochlear implants], referenced smoking, referenced broken bones [ribs]

[Directly follows Revive]

Wolf had taken care of bees, a long time ago. His grandmother kept them behind her house, a white box barely a meter tall. He could remember the smell of summers there in the country, honey and hay and the hum of thousands of wings.

Here and now, there was blood and tobacco smoke and the hum of electricity behind his ears.

Close enough to his childhood summers, he supposed.

The sounds - he was pretty sure they were sounds - were swarming in his ears. An alien sensation buzzing in his well drugged brain. Hearing without sound, like touching without feeling. There was a numbness to it that was far more frightening than the voices (he was pretty sure they were voices) hovering around him.

“And how long until he’s recovered?“

“Recovered?” Wolf couldn’t understand the words, but he knew he was hearing them. “Fuck knows if he’ll ever - ”

“What Andy means to ask is how long until he’s stable?”

That voice. The sound - something in those reverberations made his skin crawl. It didn’t help that the familiar stench of cigarette smoke was breathed over his face.

“He needs a few weeks. At least two - maybe three. His ribs were a fucking jigsaw puzzle, thanks to you. Not to mention - ”

“Two weeks. How long until those implants start working?”

If not for the drugs in his blood Wolf would have flinched from the sharp sound snapping next to his head. His natural hearing caught it, a soft snap of deft fingers, but the humming behind his ears turned it to a piercing blade that buried itself in the soft tissues of his brain.

“They already are. We won’t be able to calibrate them until he wakes up - ”

“How long until he’s awake?”

“Given his injuries he should rest - ”

“I didn’t ask how long he should rest, how soon can you wake him up?”

Wolf couldn’t wait for them to shut up. Everything was too loud - he couldn’t wait to go back to sleep. He had been dreaming, dreaming about something he could almost taste honey sweet past the iron on his tongue.

“24 hours. But sir - ”

“Good. Get him up and let me know as soon as he is.”

“Sir, he may not be completely lucid until his injuries have had time to heal. Physically, he can’t - ”

“Don’t worry doc. I’m not taking him out of medical. And I won’t lay a hand on him until you give the all clear.”

Another sharp sound - cruel laughter that barely registered as anything other than a painful cacophony in Wolf’s brain. “We just need to have a little…debrief about his situation.”

[Directly before Linger]

(Part of my Freelancers: Swansong series)

#whump #head injury #concussion #medical setting #captivity #torture #nonconsensual body modification #body modification #smoking #broken ribs #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday9 #listen im using a LOT of the alt prompts this month and i bet a lot of other ppl are using alt prompts for today #so why not give it a shot? #also: for the sake of semi-scifi his implants dont have an exterior transponder thingy bc i say so. #and bc its way more angsty that way. he has no control over them. >:]

[mari-writes]

🏖☀️❤️

BokuAka au where Akaashi s the hot new lifeguard on duty at the beach and Bokuto, who works at a local surf shop, keeps trying to flirt—to no avail. 

Akaashi remains professional, straight-faced and calm, scrutinizing Bokuto’s advances with his pretty stormy eyes.

He’s not rude, and he never tells him to leave, he just doesn’t really respond to the attention. It’s almost like he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening. In a last ditch effort, Bokuto tell his friend Kuroo that he’s going to do it—you know, that thing he sees in the movies, where he pretends to almost drown so he can be “saved” by Akaashi.

“Dude, I’m pretty sure you’ve already told him you surf,” Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “He definitely won’t believe you can’t swim.”

“Come on, bro! I’m desperate here!” Bokuto whines. “Back me up, will you?” 

Kuroo sighs. “Fine.” But before Bokuto can even go through with his brilliant plan, when he’s barely only shin-deep in the water, things go amiss. A searing sting is suddenly shooting up his leg and he stumbles, yelling out in pain. 

“Kuroo!” He cries, wincing, ‘Help me, Kuroo!” But his friend is already halfway down the beach, just as they had planned. He even turns and waves, giving him a thumbs up and a wink, obviously thinking Bokuto’s yell was part of the act. 

Well, shit.

Bokuto trips on the sea’s rocky bottom, falling to his knees. A cold wave rolls in and over his body and he shivers, not sure what to do as his leg goes numb.

“Bokuto-san!” He glances up to see Akaashi rushing towards him. Even in his bad state, Bokuto can’t help but admire the sight: Akaashi’s bare shoulders gleaming in the high sun, his long, powerful legs pounding through the sand. His expression is worried but determined.

He looks like an action hero, Bokuto swoons. What a babe… 

When Akaashi arrives he grabs Bokuto underneath the shoulders and hauls him up out of the salty water. “Bokuto-san, are you okay?” Bokuto shakes his head. He whimpers, unsure of how to explain the feeling in his leg.

He stumbles again, this time falling right into the lifeguard’s chest. He has no time to enjoy the proximity, however, as another shot of pain immediately hits him. “‘kaashi, it hurts!”

“Looks like a jellyfish sting,” Akaashi says seriously. His usual monotone voice cracks slightly. “Okay, let’s get you to shore.” Bokuto hobbles up onto the sand with Akaashi’s help. Despite being a few centimeters shorter and less bulky, Akaashi seems to have no problem taking most of his weight.

“Wow, y-you’re really strong,” Bokuto mutters, only somewhat involuntarily. Hell, he might be dying, so he should definitely flirt while he still can. “Do you work out?”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, but his ears are turning pink. “You’re delirious. Hang on, rest here, let me go get my medical bag.” Bokuto settles into the warm sand, wishing he could bury his head into it. How could such a harmless plan turn out like this? He hadn’t meant to actually get hurt! Maybe Kuroo had been right, it was a stupid idea.

And now he’s actually hurt and Akaashi probably thinks he stupid and—

“Here, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi kneels down at his side. He’s holding a bottle of water, some clear liquid in a small vial and a pair of tweezers. “I see that there are still a couple of barbs stuck in there. I’m going to try to get them out.” 

Bokuto nods. “Okay.” He watches Akaashi get to work, first rinsing his leg off with warm water and vinegar. Then he grabs Bokuto’s leg, steadying it before starting to pluck out the barbs. Bokuto hisses.

“I know it hurts. Just stay still.” It takes a bit longer, but finally, Bokuto is jellyfish-free. His skin still stings, and Akaashi rinses it again for good measure before patting it with a dry towel. He also tells Bokuto what to do after he gets home. 

“Thanks, ‘kaashi. Really. I might’ve died without you!”

Akaashi frowns. “Incorrect. That species wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Still!” Bokuto grins weakly. He watches as the lifeguard gathers up his supplies. “How can I make it up to you?” 

The frown deepens. “This is my job, Bokuto-san. I don’t need anything in return.”

“I want to, though.” He leans forward. “How about dinner?” Akaashi freezes. He looks up slowly to meet his gaze. 

“D-dinner?”

“Yeah!”

Obviously shocked, Akaashi just stares. “Like, um, a date type of dinner?” 

“Yeah!”

“Oh.” Akaashi’s eyes dart away, and the redness on his ears has spread to his sharp cheekbones. Bokuto waits as patiently as he can. He wonders briefly if he had guessed wrong about Akashi being… well, not-straight. Though even if he isn’t, that doesn’t automatically mean he’d like Bokuto in that way. Maybe he’d rather… 

“Okay.” Bokuto’s head snaps up to meet the other man’s bewildered gaze. “Really?” 

“Yes. I would, um, love to go out on a date with you, Bokuto-san. I’ve… been wanting to ask you for a while.”

“You have?!” Bokuto can’t believe this. After so long of worrying that Akaashi was completely uninterested, turns out he was just gathering the courage to ask him out?

“Yes,” Akaashi says again. He’s smiling, just slightly, and Bokuto is enchanted to see a tiny dimple appear on the man’s right cheek. “Not tonight though. You should go back home and take care of your injury.” 

Bokuto nods, feeling his own face split into a wide grin. He lets Akaashi pull him up from the sand, and together they make their way towards the parking lot. Akaashi radios a colleague, asking him to keep an eye on his stretch of beach for a moment.

They’re both quiet as they approach the car. Bokuto grabs his phone from the glove compartment and holds it out to Akaashi. The other man stands there awkwardly, pulling at his own fingers. Bokuto chuckles. “Your number? For our date.”

“Oh, right.” He watches Akaashi methodically enter his information, even exiting out of the Contacts app and switching off the screen before passing it back. 

“Thanks again, ‘kaashi! For everything.”

Akaashi nods. “Of course. Please let me know you got home safely, Bokuto-san.”

“Okay! And let me know when and where you want to go on our date!”

“I will.”

They part ways eventually. Akaashi gives him one last wave as he jogs back to his post on the beach. The sun is dipping low, causing a golden glow to shine around him as he sends a blinding smile.

Bokuto’s breath hitches. “Wow. I’ve got a date with an angel...”

//

This was originally only posted to Twitter, but given everything that’s going on I thought it was important to archive it here too. PLEASE REBLOG if you enjoyed, and feel free to comment too! Hang in there guys! —Mari 🥰

#my writing #bokuaka #akaboku #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #fanfiction #drabble #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfiction

[calclaws]

just a little breakdown. dont read. lmao

seriously im between having panic attacks all the time or this mind numbing depression. i need to take my cbd and sunny mood again but im too afraid of the interactions with buspirone and ive made everyone hate me and going to the doctor has been so triggering and traumatic and i just want to bash my brains in and be done with the whole thing. but part of me is like....you are not thinking clearly....you arent usually this depressed and uncaring. and im so full of anger for no reason except at my doctor. this doctor is shit and she doesnt believe me that i had a horrible reaction to the anti- depressant and im pretty sure she wants me dead bc im queer and they asked me that pretty straight off which is highly sus like have they pegged me as someone to try to kill and part of me knows im being paranoid but i have such bad medical ptsd and it keeps getting triggered and i want to end all this. i hate medical professionals so much and i just finished intake paperwork for therapy and i feel so degraded and i just cant take this. theyre probably collecting information and im gonna say something thatll get me locked up and then it'll make my ptsd worse and ill lose my job and everyone will know how fucking insane i actually am

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 1 • 1 - Keegan

Series Masterlist • Part 1 Masterlist • Next

The funny thing about unwinding is that people are more familiar with the actual children dying part, but they don’t think much about the shops where you can buy all the parts. It looks like a bunch of freezer aisles, each freezer door containing a different kid. They all look emotionless but Keegan’s dad has found that you can startle them a little if you hit the doors hard enough. Today Keegan is coming in for a new Front Temporal Lobe. He’s not as tough as the rest of his family and his dad intends to change it, not that he’s complaining though, Keegan wants to fit in with his family, but he’s just too soft according to his mom and dad. 

Looking around the store his father leads him off to a curtained section. 

“Isn’t this an employees-only section?” Keegan asks. 

“No, this is the section where all the exotics are found.” His Dad tells him.

Opening the curtain Keegan is met with all sorts of dangerous wonders, Boys who have clearly been injecting themselves, Slot Mongolers, which Keegan is pretty sure that they’re not allowed to be unwound at all, and huge-chested girls. 

“Well isn’t she a beauty, eh?” Keegan looks over to see his dad eyeing up a very generous-looking girl. “Wonder what she does?”

His dad then smacks the glass, the girl's eyes shoot open with a horrified expression, and she looks down before calmly going back into the unconscious. If Keegan were to guess she probably went back to sleep calmly realizing that her parts were covered. Even in the exotic section, the staff had the dignity to cover genitals and breasts. Looking back over to the boys Keegan spots one that looks less artificial. Roland Taggart, the plaque on his door reads, approximately 18 years old, unwind reason: mistreatment of a family member.

“To note, this child has confessed to trying to kill another kid while at harvest camp, OH HE’S PERFECT!” Keegan whips his head around to see his dad reading off Roland’s plaque, he then bangs on the glass to see Roland’s reaction. What can only be described as an expression of pure rage fills Roland’s face as he half-lidded looks Keegan’s dad in the face before looking down at the missing forearm and lower part of his upper limb on his right, then he does what Keegan thinks of as a facial shrug before dozing back off again. 

“He even stays aware for longer, we're definitely taking this guy's brain parts.” The dad confirms.

Not before long a staff member comes down the aisle

“Can I help you guys with anything today?” He asks.

“Absolutely, how’s about getting my son here hooked up with Roland Taggart’s Front Temporal Lobe?” His dad exclaims. 

The staff member looks over to Roland’s unwound body,

“100 dollars, are we doing this today or at another time?” He asks. 

The dad hands over some medical papers with his debit card clipped to them. “Let’s get this done today.” He demanded. 

The staff member looks over to Keegan and ushers his head.

“Come with me.”

The surgery room is cold, or maybe it is only to Keegan. He’s lying down on the operating table now in a hospital gown, slowly a nurse rolls up another cart. There’s a box on it labelled ‘Roland Taggart’s Front Temporal Lobe’.

“I hope they explained to you that you have to stay awake during this, we’ll be administering a shot to numb you.” The surgeon explained.

The nurse came over to cuff Keegan’s limbs in place. “It’s for safety reasons, nothing bad is going to happen to you.” She told him she went over to hold Keegan’s hand as he felt the prick of the needle. 

 “You're going to feel a slight pressure in your head, it’s  nothing to worry about.” The nurse slowly places a finger on both of Keegan’s eyes, shutting them. 

He feels twinges where his vital organs are, it makes him panic, he wants to scream out, he wants to move, though suddenly he doesn’t want to do…

anything…

He’s angry, he’s so freaking frustrated, he wants to rage, he wants to yell, and scream. Violent urges pump all throughout him, he knows what’s happening now, he’s been fused with Roland, and it feels amazing. There are so many new things he’ll be able to do, and Roland will guide him along the way. He’ll be honest if Roland could talk, Keegan would thank him.

After the staff confirms that he’s stable he comes out of the room with this newfound confidence and this new suaveness to him. 

“Ay! Would you look at that, You’re acting like a new person already!” His dad cheered. 

Despite him being excited about the new brain part, he now felt a terrible urge to lash out at his father. Nonetheless, he simply smirked and nodded, wondering what other surprises Roland Taggart would give him.

#unwind dystology #unwind #unwind series #unwind fanfic #sequel fic #unwind oc #roland taggart

[mark-of-chrysus]

#13

It wasn't uncommon for certain physical traits, mostly scars, and tattoos to travel loops with Daniel. It was, however, extremely inconvenient when fresh injuries would travel over with him.

That's how Daniel found himself kneeling over in an alleyway, bleeding profusely from one eye and covered in bruises. One of his arms had a few patches of missing skin that had been scraped off when he skidded down the pavement after a pick-up had rammed straight into him. Someone had ordered a hit on him in the last loop. The boy had been ambushed by over a thousand trained and armed men and when he'd finally made his escape leaving their limp bodies behind he had been hit head-on and thrown through a glass panel. Then he was hit again just as he was regaining his bearings and finally died from the trauma.

Tentatively he reached with shaky fingers and touched his swelling eye. It felt gummy and something liquid was leaking out, but thankfully it was already numbed by the effects of time travel. At least that was one good thing he could get out of his 'predicament', his body didn't hurt. In a few hours, it would start to, as the effects of the loop wore off, and by then he would probably be writhing in a hospital bed (if he even made it there), but for now, he could focus on figuring out when and where he was.

"Fuck!"

He spun around in a panic, coming face to face with a certain black-eyed male looking at him incredulously. Danny tried to square his shoulders and straighten his back, but his abdomen was bleeding profusely and he had to keep one hand in place to slow the flow of he blood. As he was, half-leaning onto the wall with one arm while looking like he would collapse at any minute he was pretty sure he didn't look intimidating enough to get the male to leave him alone.

"Fuck!"Gun repeated, as if not believing what he was seeing.

Danny steeled his nerves and tried to slightly shift his body into a fighting stance but failed, his right leg almost giving away beneath him. He was sent stumbling right into the wall, but kept his head up, glowering and showing his teeth in an almost animalistic threat not to get closer. It didn't matter that he was slowly dying, he wouldn't let a bastard like him have the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable.

"You" He paused as if unsure of himself "You need medical attention"

"Yeah, no shit" The injured boy spat out alongside a few flakes of blood.

The fighting maniac shifted from one foot onto another and looked around hesitantly. Daniel stifled a disbelieving snort. Was he actually debating on being a decent human being for once and helping him out? He hoped that was just wishful thinking on his part because if it wasn't, surely something must've gone terribly wrong with this loop!

"Who?"

Danny just let out a scratchy hum in inquiry. He very much doubted he could keep this up much longer, already feeling like his insides were going to spill out at any moment. He was really pushing his luck right now, but the boy found he didn't care much. The loop would reset and his wounds would probably disappear. Death was just another part of the circle, something he had come to accept could happen at any time.

"Who did this? Who could have beaten you so bad? You, who just a few days ago fought me and broke my arm like it was second nature to you!? You're a fighting genius! This should be possible! How is this possible?" His voice began showing traces of hysteria and Danny rolled his eyes. The stock he put in his own skills would have seemed warranted to him before the loops, but now that he had far surpassed him, Gun only seemed like a lunatic with illusions of grandeur and a perverse way of seeing the world.

A rough, dry laugh fell past his bloodied lips, startling the raving man out of his hysteria. He turned just in time to see blood pooling beneath the boy, whose body had slid down the wall and onto the concrete, leaving behind a trail of crimson. He gurgled a mouthful of blood just as the Japanese man rushed towards him, and Daniel Park slumped over lifeless, his face twisted in a mocking grin and his eyes fixed forward, dull and unseeing.

A full-body shiver ran through Gun and he silently despaired at losing such a promising fighter with so much untapped potential. He could have been his masterpiece or even his rival. It wasn't fair!

With shaking hands (why were his hands shaking?) he pulled out a cigarette. It took him three tries before he managed to light it and finally took a mouthful of the addictive smoke(just don't think about it). Slowly, the substance calmed him down enough to get up and clumsily stumble off to god knows where(it happens, people die all the time). Without realizing it, Gun reached the port and sat down on the cold concrete, hypnotized by the sea. His hands were dripping red, staining his expensive clothes (when had he touched the blood?).

"Maybe...Maybe I should've..."

The sound of crashing waves covered his words. He stood there for a while longer, until his phone began blowing up and night had fallen. He threw his phone into the water carelessly and sat back down. The sun rose over the horizon like it always did, and a single man, waiting on the docks was there to greet it. (Death could not be undone)

In another timeline, Danny felt the sudden urge to yell SIKE!

#lookism manhwa #lookism #webtoon lookism #time loop #daniel park #gun park #character death

[ahaura]

yellowjackets s2e4 lb

WHAT IS GOING ON i dont remember that clip from the last ep but it's fine

taissa repressed/separated the part of herself so much that its turned into a completely Other Self

DID HER SLEEPWALKING TAKE HER TO VAN?

is it just me or is it simply the link im using or does the themesong sound... more sinister...?

apex predator (survivalist cannibal) shauna shipman is HERE

once again... a comedy<3

FRODO AND MISTY BESTIE TIME?

"it's pretty rare for a friend to so relentlessly have your back" ok so i have theories. 1) he actually is just a weirdo who is also on misty's wavelength 2) fed 3) cult member (unlikely) 4) forest-sent (unlikely but it'd be interesting)

i REALLY want misty to have a fellow morally dubious and hilarious bestest best friend but i ALSO know that we are in a tv show where things have to happen. so. im enjoying it while i can.

IS IT STARTING? ARE THEY FINALLY TURNING ON COACH BEN BECAUSE HE DID NOT PARTAKE IN THE RITUALISTIC FOREST-INDUCED CANNIBALISM EVENT OF EATING JACKIE'S CORPSE? LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO

"a contest" oh boy

its happeninggggg the splintering the division fairytale vs "logic" putting saint lottie of new jersey on the spot lets GO

cult convo in the carrrrr

every time a character takes their eyes off the road when theyre drying i think of that one time when frodo says "get off the road!" in fotr except it's "keep your eyes on the road" <3

oh lottie....

lottie speaks and all i hear is therapy voice like she DOES know what to say and how to think about things but only in the way that does not threaten the frame of mind she was forced into likeeeee god there's a lottie underneath it all just like there's a shauna underneath it all under the layers of bullshit and time they're still under there lottie pleeeeaaaase

THE RITUAL OF PREPARATION.... I NEED A MINUTE...

is that snow in the line of lottie's scar.... like the snow in the carving on the tree...

also tho if u think about it i DO get it like nat refusing to take the blessing bec she thinks its stupid and it doesnt work and the others believing that it means shes not doing EVERYTHING she can to feed them i get that i can see it...

"im a millionaire its on youtube" JASDSDKSAJFKDS?????

shes touching the mouse... if you hear yelling in the distance thats my mom saying "mice carrie DISEASES"

lottie getting tetanus so the group can eat... <3

NAT IS SO FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

LISAAAAAAAAA

oh lisa...

ok i do want to say. first and foremost. it is entirely possible do feel numb when they got on medication and im not going to discount that. HOWEVER. in my PERSONAL experience with depression, therapy, and medication... a lot of the times that "numb" is experiencing "stable" like you're not feeling the super highs and super lows anymore you've tapered off and entered a more... normal? ??? range of emotions im getting sleepy so i cant remember the name of it but my therapist has described tolerance and vibrations and whatever and when youre in a Downtrend you are depressed but when you're Activated (angry, worried, anxious, etc.) you're Doing things and the goal is not to seesaw as much so violently into both ends but find a safe middle ground where you're supposed to be able to manage ur emotions well. idk what's going on w lisa i cant speak to her specifics or anything but like . im fairly sure that the idea that medication "numbs" you and turns you into a zombie is not as common as media portrays? if not entirely misrepresented or a misconception? i could be totally wrong in that and am only speaking from personal experience so take that as you will

DID SHAUNA REALLY JUST ADMIT TO KILLING ADAM TO HER KID? THE SAME KID WHO SNITCHED ON HER? LMAOOOOOOOOOOO WE'VE STARTED THE COUNTDOWN BABEYYYYYY (maybe) (we'll havet o see)

"hes not a bad person hes just a bad criminal" LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO RIP JEFF FOUND DEAD IN NEW JERSEY

"i promise i wont tell anyone my mom murdered someone" im sure this will have no future ramfications atall <3 ever <3

oh im a fan of lisa its official im not letting her go.

NAT GOING OFF ON LISA'S MOM LET'S GO LET'S FUCKIN GGO

NAT PUT THE FISH IN HER MOUTH TO STEAL IT FROM THE MOM AND GAVE IT BACK TO LISA IM SCREEECHINGGGGG SHES CRAZYYYYYYY

mari caring more about the rules of the game more than not starving... eye see... also the moose may be a false hope/trap set by the forest but who knows<3

A PLANE? THE PLANE?

LEONARD????? THE BEAR??????

IS IT A VISION OR??????

GIRL SOMETHING IS WRONG!

GIRL WTF

WTF

WTF

WTF

is this the woods telling nat she should have taken the blessing...

jeff is right one (1) time youre really NOT supposed to let your kid know you killed people

im fairly certain thats not how youre supposed to treat hypothermia but what do i know. and what do they know too for that matter

lotttieeee...

WHOO---?

JAVI????????????????????????

VAN!!!!!!

well that was fun. i hope i can get some caps out of this ep if i can get around 2 it.<3

#📺 lb

[findingmypeace]

3/26/2023-TW: eating disorder

I’m going to put this behind a cut because I’m going to mention specific ed behaviors and some medical symptoms I am experiencing. (Edit: this turned out really long. Long story short: Ed behaviors are out of control. I’m experiencing some medical symptoms which is overwhelming for so many conflicting reasons, and now the talks about me going back to treatment have started.)

That’s the summary but you can read the long version if you want, lol.

Ok, the ed really isn’t good. Like at all. As part of the distraction/avoidance the b/ping has been out of control. Like this is the worst it’s ever been. It’s such a numbing behavior. I’m not thinking about anything if I’m b/ping. At this point I am utterly addicted. I have tried a few times to cut down on this behavior but by the end of the day I’m back at it. I am spending way too much money on binge food. That’s one of my motivators to reduce the behavior (and I really do try to reduce money spent) but so far it’s not something that stops me from doing it long term.

On the other hand, as much as I really, really, want to downplay it I am experiencing some medical symptoms. I have so many different emotions related to these symptoms that in the end I just kind of shut down in frustration. But this week things kind of came to a head. A lot of it involves my coworkers aka my new closest friends but I think I’ll address that in a different post.

Starting at the beginning of last week I just wasn’t feeling that good, physically. I have felt this way before and most of the time I just brush it off, push through it, and it goes away. It’s usually just dehydration so I try to drink more hydrating fluids and move on with my day. This time it didn’t go away. By Thursday it was pretty bad. The symptoms I was experiencing was mostly weakness/fatigue, feeling like my legs were going to collapse if I got up too fast, and (I don’t really know how to explain this) I guess feeling like I would also collapse (not faint) if I walked or stood for too long. Additionally, on Thursday night, as I was changing into my pajamas, I noticed that my feet were swollen. Like really badly, the same way they were a couple of years ago which led to everyone freaking out about my heart and pushing me to go back into treatment. (This has been going on for a few days now and it’s only gotten worse. I literally can feel the skin on my feet stretching from how swollen they are.) Honestly, because everyone freaked out about this last time it happened I’m kind of worried about it.

My therapist asked me to call my PCP so on Friday morning I did. They sent me to urgent care and urgent care sent me to the ER. Again, this is where I get so overwhelmed that I end up just feeling frustrated and then shutting down. There’s just so much going on in my head, a lot of conflicting emotions and thoughts, that I can’t deal with it.

Past evidence has shown that NOTHING is ever wrong. Like ever. I am fine. I always am. So while I was feeling so many different things I vacillated between being scared and on the verge of tears for being in the ER and not yet know what was going on and also feeling really frustrated with having to spend my day there. I was pretty sure I was just dehydrated. Give me a bag of fluids and let me go home. And guess what? I WAS RIGHT!. All tests came back normal (as always) except my labs showed that I was dehydrated so they gave me a bag of fluids and let me go home. Hahaha! I do still have to follow up with my pcp (appointment scheduled for Thursday).

At the same time, if I’m really honest with myself, I don’t feel very good. Like I mentioned above my feet are still really swollen. Like to the point the skin is stretching. And I feel really, really weak. To the point that I can’t walk very far without getting out of breath and feeling like I need to sit down. I still feel kind of like I’m going to collapse. It’s just not as bad as it was. I really don’t know what is going on which, once again, causes me to feel very overwhelmed with a million different emotions. Just make it stop! Let’s pretend nothing is wrong!

Since the ER I have tried very, very hard to do better with hydrating and in a weird way also reduce the b/ping. I’m taking in more fluid. I don’t want to end up purging that fluid because I know my body desperately needs it so I wait a little while and then I b/p. Just by waiting like that the number of b/p’s in a day has reduced.

Last thing, but probably the thing I am most upset about. My new therapist is an ed specialist. She knows her shit. For me, I see that as both a really good thing and something I hate. I’ve been keeping her updated about the ER, etc. I got a text from her on Saturday and she wants to have a session asap (we’re currently not scheduled until April 4th), like at first she suggested to have one that day aka this past Saturday! We end up scheduling for Wednesday. However, the thing that really upset me was her saying that we need to talk about getting me on some waiting lists (ie: for treatment/HLOC). Uh no! I am NOT going back to treatment. I told her I didn’t want to go back and she said we would talk about it in our next session but that she wants me to get on some wait lists because it usually takes a few months to get to the top. Still, no! Not after last time. Not now that I have my dream job. No! Not happening! I can’t. I will lose too much of the life I have tried so hard to build.

Now that this is super long, as you can see the distraction/avoidance is relieving the actual emotions of the depression but reality is peaking through and, honestly, it’s making me freak out. A)I just hope nothing is seriously wrong medically. I do NOT want to go back to treatment and B) It’s nice to not feel such incredibly painful depression every second of everyday. Seriously, the distraction/avoidance, as unhealthy as I know it is and as much as I know it’s making things worse, it’s so much more pleasant than being in so much emotional pain that you want to die. Double-edge sword.

#personal #eating disorder #bulimia #TW: eating disorder #depression

[mevekagvain]

Chapter 502 - Damn right through Mirai's boob. She and Yuizi can form a club about it now, though at least Geo went for the side with heart unlike Yuri.

- ...So Lunark and Mirai vacillate between matesprit and kismesis are lovers yeah :3 Though I wonder if Lunark dates both sisters or just Mirai.

- ??? You can't only numb the part of the nervous system for feeling pain since there aren't separate systems for different senses. It'd be possible only if they made it so the signals for pain weren't processed properly so I'll pretend that's what they did to Haydn as a side effect.

Chapter 503 - And Kentas is back from Lukedonia lol.

- Put your clothes back on First.

Chapter 505 - I... I forgot that First gets even uglier.

- Ah yes Blood Spear debut... imagining its gijinka is making me cry omg. A shy noblesse looking child being mothered over by my monstrous Dark Spear gijinka 🥺

Chapter 506 - First??? Since when are artificial bloodstones human tech? Lagus pioneered that shit and must have shared it with Maduke. Humans using bloodstones would have taken Lagus' research. I'm-

Chapter 507 - Why tf did Dark Spear mode make Frankenstein and Lunark's height difference larger. I refuse to acknowledge this shitty art choice.

- Okay so you did one decent thing by making sure the murder satellites won't activate when you die, First. Doesn't change the rest of your bullshit.

- 'Created it in secret'. Idk I feel like whoever is in charge of the Union's finances would have noticed. Maybe if it was just one I'd give it a pass but multiple satellites? For murder? Haha yeah ig that means Urokai woulda known by my hcs. Poor guy. Just wanted to murder his husband and his husband's pet but got dragged into helping people in the Union. The audacity smh.

Chapter 508 - They really need to hire more hackers. Tao may be a superhuman but even he can't do it alone.

Chapter 509 - I wonder what city First spends most of his time in? It's very pretty.

- Crombel's right, First. You're both shitty people.

- Put your shirt back on please Crombel (T°T)

- You two too, First, Third.

- So Crombel wants to play god which means he's going to genetically engineer humans but uh. Who's gonna raise all those test tube babies? Him? His assassination squad? I don't think either is okay.

Chapter 510 - To think it all started with Twelfth Elder suspecting Crombel all that while ago. Good times.

- Oh hey Yuri. Hey Aris. That dress looks much nicer than what Crombel would pick so maybe she got a parcel from Tillie.

- Ah yes time for the random weirdly detailed different artstyle owl.

Chapree 511 - Why would you ever think Frankenstein wants Muzaka to wake up because he cares about him, Lunark? This man would murder him personally if he wasn't Raizel's bff.

- Ajdjisis Frankenstein and Raizel are having a talk as they perch atop boulders by a coast. What is this? A 50 episode drama?

- Third having the decency to tell the household about what happened makes him the best human Elder (aside from you know, the unnamed dead Elders in Frankenstein's flashback who did nothing wrong ever).

Sidenotes - I find it hilarious how the official translation still sucks even as it nears the end. They're calling clan leaders lords.

- Imagining the reactions of all the not evil people at the Union.

"We're going to put aside a significant amount of the budget for something that isn't human modification."

"Yay!!! Omg what is it?! Medical research? Stop climate change and rehabilitate the earth? Eradicate poverty?"

"Attack satellites!"

"... We should have fucking known it was something similarly useless and evil."

#noblesse #raining while reading

[lionheartslowstart]

Scared

I normally don’t write stuff like this, but I need an outlet. I’m feeling a lot of feelings right now and I’m not good with that...stuff. Nine times out of ten, I just compartmentalize and numb myself out until finally everything comes to the surface and the dam bursts and I have a total mental break. Though I do have the decency to wait until I’m in private. I don’t want or need people seeing me like that. But this is...big. I know it’s big. And I just can’t seem to process it, so I figured I would try the only thing I know to do when I’m having trouble processing something, and that’s write on this blog.

In 2020 I had an MRI done because I get chronic migraines. Unfortunately, this was right before Covid-19, and so everything kind of shut down and the neurologist basically ghosted me. Flash forward about eight months and I had to get my gall bladder removed. In the process of getting cleared for surgery, the surgeon looked over my recent medical records. When I met with her for the pre-op clearance, she asked me if I knew I had an aneurysm.

I asked her what she meant and she told me about the MRI from that March. I was floored. No one had told me anything, only that I needed to come in for a follow up appointment. But then the office called me and said my appointment had to be rescheduled indefinitely due to Covid, and then I never heard anything back.

Luckily, the surgeon told me the aneurysm was so tiny, she felt okay doing the surgery. But that it was something I should look into. My gall bladder was successfully removed, and life returned to normal.

I won’t lie, I forgot about it for a while. Between commuting, classes, my regular mental health bullshit, and dealing with an abusive partner, I kind of had other things on my mind. But things finally starting calming down for me a few months ago, so I decided now would be a good time to revisit the subject.

The neurologist I went to has since retired (and frankly I wouldn’t have wanted to see him again anyway, fuck that guy), so I had to find a new one. It took me a while, but I was able to find a doctor nearby who was taking new patients and seemed like a good fit for me, so I scheduled an appointment.

I saw her this morning.

The good news is that I don’t technically have an aneurysm. It’s so teeny tiny that it’s referred to as an “out-pouching.” Is it a great situation? No, but at least it’s not dire. Still, she wants me to get another MRI done to check on it, since it’s been about two years.

I also have some fluid build up in the back of my head. It’s called a hygroma. The doctor told me it’s pretty common for that to happen after a severe head injury. She asked me if I hit my head really hard around the time of the MRI. I told her I couldn’t remember, but I’m constantly hurting myself because I’m clumsy as hell, so probably. She told me it’s most llikely fine, that the hygroma is basically harmless unless it’s pressing on the brain. And, according to the doctor, I would definitely know if it was pressing on my brain. The symptoms would be extreme. But, like with the out-pouching, she would like to see newer images just to make sure.

All in all, these two things aren’t so bad.

But wait, it gets worse. (And don’t worry, she told me this part first.)

According to this MRI, I have had a stroke.

I was in shock. How could I not have known this? I didn’t want to believe her, but she was able to actually show me the images. Sure enough, there was that white patch of dead tissue, staring me right in my face. And while it wasn’t a massive patch, it wasn’t a small one either. Maybe the size of a nickel, right there, on the right side of my brain.

Apparently, it happens more often than you’d think, that someone has a stroke and doesn’t even know it, especially when you consider a stroke can happen in your sleep.

Since I’ve had a stroke already, even though I don’t remember it, or have any idea when it occurred, I am high risk to have another stroke. I will have to take baby aspirin for the rest of my life in an effort to mitigate that risk.

 But wait, it gets WORSE.

The stroke is old. Old in 2020. I have absolutely no idea when this could have happened, how old I was. And I doubt there really is a way to know for sure. Regardless of my age when I had the stroke, I’m too young, even with high blood pressure. It is extremely uncommon for people my age and younger to suffer from stroke.

There are not many reasons why young people suffer strokes (aside from smoking, but I don’t smoke). However, there is at least one “common” cause.

I’m not going to elaborate further than that, because I don’t want to announce something I don’t know to be true, or accidentally manifest something so negative, but I will say that I have to get a special test done to rule out a specific condition. And it’s kind of a lose-lose situation, because if I don’t have it, we still won’t know why I had the stroke, and there could be some other underlying problem that will be difficult to diagnose. But if I do have it, I’ll have to have surgery.

I. Am. Terrified.

I don’t want to throw a pity party. I am not a “woe is me” kind of person. But fuck man it really does feel like every time I turn around, there is something else wrong with me, whether it be physical or mental. I am so sick and tired of getting dealt such a shit hand medically. In an effort to make me feel better in the past, my mother has teased me, saying I won the “medical chaos lottery.” And I’ve always thought that was funny, until now. My whole entire life, all I’ve ever wanted was to be normal, to just live my fucking life. And that has never, ever been an option for me. And it fucking sucks.

I’m just tired of living like this.

#scared #medical #health #personal #wellness #wellbeing

[onethousandseventysevenreasons]

Hi, ▇▇. My love. My beautiful angel.

Today marks 3 years you’ve been gone. Every day still hurts. I have no idea how or why I chose to stay here. You’ve missed so much … I’m a completely different person now. This time of year always brings back such terrible memories.

I know you’re content with the choice you made, but I wish I could have prevented it somehow. I wish I had been there—in real life, and not over the phone—so I could have given you a hug to let you know everything was going to be okay. 

For a while, I was so mad at you.

How could you do that?

How could you show me that?

Why would you do that to our families and to me?

Unfortunately the older I get, the more and more I understand why you did that. The world is so cruel and the escape from reality seems necessary.  They say life is short but I feel like it’s too long.

1095 days without you.

It’s funny because it’s not funny.

It’s funny because I have erased any evidence of your existence.

It’s funny because it still hurts.

I don’t want to be poetic, I want to empathize with you. But the question still passes through my mind every once in a while.

Who hurt you?

We had been friends since I was 9 and you were 8. And then one day you just … Changed.

Shortly after you passed I got raped. It changed me a lot. Not as much as what you did. But it changed me.

I spend every day laughing and trying to hide the fact that my emotional pain is unbearable. People think I’m a guy with no filter and no shame. 

I think the reality of it is, ▇▇, I will never feel the way I felt when it was just us. When we would walk home from school together, and then the sadness I would feel when we had to go down different streets to go home. But then the happiness I felt when you texted me less than 30 minutes later asking if I wanted to FaceTime. 

It’s a fleeting feeling. 

And it fled too fast. 

How can I only be 17? I feel like my life is coming to a closing chapter but people keep telling me I’ve just begun.

I’ve been getting really into my studies and trying to move out. I have 3 ½ credits left, and then I’m done. The issue of the matter, of course, is that my mom is so obsessed with me.

You probably remember that though. I’ve had Life360 since I was 8.

Actually, I think I’ve lost the incentive to keep telling you these things.

I thought about that night. It actually passes through my mind a lot. I tried going spiritual for a while, just trying to see if maybe it could help. I would look at the stars and say that you were up there looking down on me, making sure I stayed safe.

Now the stars hurt.

Now the sunsets hurt.

Being in the dark hurts.

And that’s what you did to me. You left me in the dark.

Now even the thought of you hurts.

I never thought it would get this bad.

You never think the one person in your life you can always depend on will just leave forever.

But maybe it’s not forever, maybe we meet up again somewhere after we’ve died. I have low expectations for that, but I can hope.

I think if there is a good and a bad place, I’m going to the bad place. I’m not a good person, even with all of the nice things people say about me, I’m not a good person. 

After you died, I stopped eating. I dropped like 90lbs, I want to say thank you but all it did was fuck me up. I had to go into a residential program. It was absolutely horrible. They gaslit me and my parents into stuff that wasn’t true. Then they got me on medication just to numb me out, so I couldn’t truly feel the emotions I had. Who needs emotions anyway. I got off the medications they had me on. I have high days and low days, but most are pretty vanilla.

That’s part of the reason I’m writing to you. I found someone just like you.

Just like you…

But, since you left I don’t trust the same.

I don't feel the same.

I don't think the same.

I will deny it until I die to anybody else.

But,

You ruined me.

And I can’t forgive you.

But I miss you. I miss myself.

#forever14