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dreamsontheirway · 1 year

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Proven Me Wrong | S.R.

Summary: Reader hates their glasses, so they opt to go visionless for a day. Spencer won't let that happen. Warnings: None Word Length: 1.1k

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Grabbing your belongings from your passenger seat, you opened your car door and stepped into the dimly lit parking garage. You began trudging towards the exit, squinting your eyes as you went.

You had completely forgotten to pick up a new batch of contact lenses over the weekend, and now you were forced to deal with the consequences. You hated wearing your glasses to work, so you opted to just not have your full range of vision for the day. It's just one day, you had thought.

It's not that you didn't like your glasses; they were relatively fashionable. You just always felt that you weren't taken as seriously when you had your glasses. Due to the heavy prescription resulting in the lenses having to be quite thick, it exemplified the size of your eyes and you felt made you look significantly younger.

Traipsing into the BAU office and arriving at your desk, you placed your belongings down. You noticed the teetering tower of case files that were newly piled onto your desk. Coffee, you thought. You needed coffee first before beginning to even consider the sheer number of files that you needed to complete.

Upon entering the kitchenette area, you beelined to the coffee maker were about to pour yourself a cup. You hadn't noticed, or rather hadn't seen, Spencer staring at you when you came in.

"Hi," he spoke, startling you. "Did you not see me? I already prepared you a cup."

He handed you a steaming mug of the bitter liquid. You could smell the cream and caramel syrup he had already added for you. Your favorite.

"Sorry, thank you," you smiled at him, his face blurry and doubling from your lack of vision prescription. Despite your current impairment, you could see a smile ghost his face.

You two wordlessly made your way back to the bullpen, and you placed your steaming cup at your desk.

"Did you get the same amount as me?" You asked, referring to the towering pile of case files mounted on your desk. "This is going to take forever."

Spencer's brow creased before he hummed and spoke, "I got about the same. I can take a few from you."

You waved your hand at him. "No, no," you brushed him off, "I can do it."

Spencer ignored you then, grabbing a handful of your case files and taking them to his desk.

"Spence," you laughed, astonished at his tenacity.

"It's fine. I can finish just these in less than a half hour anyways." He never intended his remarks about his quick reading and high IQ to sound conceited, but it sort of came with the territory.

"Well, thank you." You appreciated the help and sat down to complete your remaining files.

It was nearing lunchtime, and your completed pile had finally started to catch up with your uncompleted. Despite the small victory, you still struggled. You were in pain; the space behind your eyes burning. After squinting for nearly 4 hours due to your lack of clear vision, the eye strain had completely taken over your every thought.

You rubbed at your eyes, and seriously considered asking Spencer for the eye drops that you knew he had stashed in one of his desk drawers. You and Spencer had been together a fair while now, and he knew you wore contacts, but he had never seen you in your glasses. You didn't think he would think anything bad of you, necessarily, but something in your gut still caused insecurity to bubble up.

"Are you alright?" Spencer appeared beside you then, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I can take a couple more of your files if you'd like."

You shook your head, not wanting Spencer to do any more of your work for you. You already felt guilty enough about the ones he had snatched from earlier.

"Nah," you dismissed, "My eyes are just tired. I ran out of contacts and forgot to pick up more."

"Why aren't you just wearing your glasses, then?" Spencer was confused, his brow furrowed in perplexity. He did not understand why you wouldn't want to see your work, if you had the ability to. As far as he knew, your glasses were still fully functional. He had never seen them on you, but he knew enough to know that you owned some.

You sighed, realizing you would have to share your insecurity with him. You hated confusing Spencer, and the crease on his forehead resulting from pure puzzlement made you feel guilty.

"I just," you started, looking to see if any of your fellow agents were around. "I don't like the way they look on me."

"But," Spencer's brow was still scrunched. "Don't you need to see your work? I don't understand why you wouldn't wear them if it meant you could complete your work comfortably."

You exhaled, frustrated. You loved Spencer, but sometimes he did not understand your insecurities. He was so factual and logical, and most days you loved that about him. However, sometimes it was hard to express your feelings and have him understand you.

You thought of a way to explain this to him so that he would understand.

"I'm insecure about them. I," you considered your next words. "I worry that they make me look unprofessional. And you haven't seen me in them; what if you think I look hideous?"

Spencer laughed, and it warmed your insides, both with love and with irritation.

"It's not funny!"

"No, no it isn't," Spencer cooed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I would never think you looked bad in anything, let alone hideous. It seems silly to me that you wouldn't just wear them if it meant that you could see your files."

You appreciated his words, but you humphed dramatically anyway. Your facade had been foiled by the intelligent young man.

"Fine," you muttered, digging through your bag for your glasses case. You found the leather-bound object and opening it, you pulled out your black, thick rimmed glasses and slipped them on your face. You hummed, the feeling of finally being able to see the world around you clearly was soothing.

Spencer looked at you; he just stared. You shifted uncomfortably, staring up at him through the newly placed glasses on your nose.

Spencer noticed your shifting and was quick to say something. "I think you look absolutely ravishing."

You laughed then, and said, "I think that's a bit dramatic."

Spencer shook his head, "No, it's true. I didn't think you could get more beautiful, but you've proven me wrong."

-----

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction

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jokingmisfit · 6 months

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Different Jokers Reacting to you Needing to Take Medicine

Jeremiah Valeska

-This man is a genius. He already knew before you told him. He already did research on any and all medicine you have to take.

-Jeremiah may keep you on your toes for a lot of things but he’s pretty chill about this. You could even take medicine for your mental health when it comes to Jeremiah. If it makes you feel better he’s all for it.

- God forbid the doctor drops you or the pharmacy won’t run the prescription. Jeremiah will not hesitate to start bombing buildings just so you can get what you need.

- If you have to get off one medicine to switch to another he’s going to be right there to analyze your every move (like he doesn’t already) to make sure nothing goes wrong. The second you act off he’s getting you back in there for a better med. Also if you start showing any symptoms he’ll know because he read everything on that medicine.

- He makes sure you take your meds on time everyday. He kind of likes the domesticity of it, the pattern. Jeremiahs stopped mid planning or meeting just to tell/text/call you to take your meds.

-Overall the perfect Joker for having to take medicine. 10/10

Jerome Valeska

-Jerome is the complete opposite of his brother. The man is a loose cannon and is always doing something or other. He had absolutely no idea you were taking meds.

-Let’s hope you bring it up because if you don’t and he finds them he’ll flip shit. He’ll scream and rant and break things. He may even threaten you. He’ll feel so upset and so betrayed. You’ll have to explain very carefully what they’re for.

-If you bring it up, introduce it slowly, mention what’s physically “wrong” that makes you need to take it, then explain what the medicine does. At first he’s going to be hesitant but at least you can hold his attention. He takes things like this very seriously (especially if it’s you).

-He’s not going to be 100% happy about it but he understands. This isn’t about you not liking your brain, it's about you being in pain. He hates when you’re in pain.

-You can’t take mental medication with him. Jerome refuses to “let you destroy your precious mind.”

- If your doctor drops you or there's a problem with the pharmacy he’ll just cause problems. By that I mean he’ll start blowing the brains out onto the floor. Only to steal the medicine.

-You might think that Jerome will continue to know nothing about your medicine but as soon as you stop talking about it he’ll hyperfocus on it for a few hours. He’ll, by the end of his research, know everything about this/these medicine(s).

-He’ll notice if you start having physical or other symptoms he’ll notice but it’ll take a day or so because he’s so all over the place. Once he notices though he’s threatening people to get you back in there to “fix” you.

-He often forgets you even take it until you take them or need to go to the doctor. He just doesn't see it as something he should butt too much into

- He hates seeing you in pain so he’ll let you take them and he’s pretty good with it so I’d say he’s a solid 6/10 for this situation.

Dark Knight/Ledger!Joker

-He’s smart but he’s busy. Joker had an inkling that you were on something, he just didn’t know what.

-He finds out when he comes just waltzing in while you’re taking it or maybe while you’re filling a pill case. He doesn’t freak out on you but he dances questions off his tongue. As long as you’re honest he’ll be fine with it.

-However if you’re taking medicine for your mental health he’s going to put up a bit of a fight. He’s not going to get loud or aggressive, no. Instead he’s going to praise your mind and your way of thinking. He’s going to try and manipulate you into stopping. If you're strong enough to tell him you’re going to take it then he’ll let it go. It’ll come up every once in a while because he doesn’t like it but he won't force you to stop.

-If something goes bad with your doctor or pharmacy, it's sad to say you’re on your own. Joker is busy constantly and doesn’t have the time for any of that. That being said, if it goes on too long you’ll notice the exact type of medicine you need is found in bulk in your living room with a little bow on the top.

-Now let's say you need to switch meds. Jokers going to be right on top of that shit. You’ll probably mention it in passing but the Joker's biggest fear is something happening to you, so he’s going to make sure no stupid pill or shot is screwing you up. The second you show any “odd” symptom he’s crashing into a hospital, stealing a doctor, doing whatever to make it better.

-Joker acts like a distant caregiver in a way. He doesn’t get involved with it often but the moment you make a comment about any struggles you’re having with it he’s going to find a solution

-I’d say he’s pretty good with the medicine unless it’s mental cause then he may be petty sometimes. Overall a good 8/10.

Arthur Fleck/Joker

-He’s the most understanding for physical medicine and the least for mental. Arthur is 100% down for you taking medicine so you’re not in physical pain. Mental medicine is another story. He thinks it’s stupid and useless, he doesn’t take any and he was supposed to, look at how good he’s doing.

-He’s not letting it happen, you can’t take mental medication.

-He probably knew you needed to take it from the beginning. There’s a big chance it’s one of the first topics the two of you even talked about.

-If your doctor or pharmacy drops you or causes issues he’s on top of it. He’s probably the most calm towards them. It’s when they don’t budge that his gun gets drawn. He refuses to let you suffer in pain.

-He knows you really well and he’s always asking how you are. If you get symptoms from a new medicine he notices immediately. It doesn’t matter what is going on, he is going to make sure you’re taken care of.

-He just loves you so much. He’ll always be there, he just can’t let you take meds that will “hurt” your mind.

-He’s great with physical medicine, not mental. He’s an absolute sweetheart. 8/10 just for the sugar.

#joker x reader #ledger joker #ledger!joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck joker #jeremiah valeska #jerome valeska #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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AITA for not helping my family pay for hospital bills?

🎷🔥 so i can find it later

This is going to need a lot of context right off the bat. I (20'sM) am a gay man that comes from an extremely conservative family. My sister (20'sF) is also a lesbian and recently got married and adopted a child. I'm very proud of her, but that's not the issue.

My parents seem to have little to no issue with my sister marrying a woman. They do have a very big issue with me liking dudes, however. Like, it was the reason my parents got divorced "big issue." I'm not gonna go into everything, but my sister ended up with my dad and I stayed with my mom for reasons I'd rather not share.

Our last parting was on... less than decent terms. Upon finding out that I was of the homosexual variety, my dad flipped his lid. He called me several slurs and said some other very hurtful things, and even made moves to physically attack me. My mom, also a very homophobic woman, stepped in and thankfully talked him down. Then divorce, etc etc.

I saved up enough money to move out when I turned 18 and may have done some impulsive things including completely trashing my mom's bathroom, which I know I'm definitely the asshole for, but in my defense my mom kept "forgetting" to pick up my prescriptions and I was manic (I have bipolar). But, again, I know I'm the AH for that.

I now live with my two best friends R (20sNB) and P (20sM) in a house we all pay for. R comes from money so they help out a lot, and I love them both to death. We kind of have a sort of situationship but none of us are poly? Idk it's weird we're just going with it rn.

Anyway, I bring them up bc we all went to my sister's wedding together, and my parents separately chewed me out for bringing them (and for R daring to wear a dress. They're amab for context) and I obviously argued back bc hey they're my best friends and my sister specifically said it was okay for me to bring them (she and R are also friends and they wouldve been invited regardless of me bringing P) and also because R looks very good in a dress and i can handle them shit-talking me but i will not tolerate slander towards R or P.

At the wedding, I went full no contact with them and told them to lose my number. They, ofc, did Not lose my number and I got several calls from extended family saying about what you would expect them to say, so I switched numbers and gave only my sister and her wife my new number.

My sister. I love her to pieces but sometimes she gets on my nerves. She gives my number to my mom to have "just in case," but she reassures me that she won't give it to my dad or any other family. So far, she's made good on that promise, I just have to deal with periodic calls about getting a girlfriend and having kids.

Now, my dad isn't the healthiest guy out there. He has arthritis, osteoporosis, and several other things that i don't really wanna get into. As he's aged he's only gotten worse and there have been several times he's almost died, but recently he's been put on hospice and has an estimated Not Very Long to live.

Here's where I may be the AH. My dad calls me while I'm at a very important, personal event for R (he got my number from my mom) and goes on a long rant on how I'm an unlovable disgrace and how he fed me and clothed me and I could make up for all that by helping him pay off hospital debt. I say no immediately and tell him that he's never been my dad, only my dna donor, and that he's going to be dead anyway and that selling his house could cover all the bills. He calls me many more names and tells me he wishes I was never born (calling my mom some very derogatory names too (she's asian)) and that i should just go ahead and off myself to save the world someone like me. I tell him he should die faster while he's at it because God knows the world already has enough bigots in it and there could never be too many mentally ill queers.

I hung up, but now I'm thinking I went a bit too far. AITA for not helping out with his hospital bills and yelling at him?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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star-anise · 24 days

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So, Easy Beauty by Chloé Cooper-Jones is not by any means a straightforward tale of the specific traumas and experiences of being a disabled woman. In many ways, it's an examination of how holding onto those traumas too tightly can keep you not just from positive chances for connection and experience, but understanding when your choices and behaviours are hurting other people.

But. It does talk about the trauma. And specifically, this splinter I've spent months now slowly drawing out of my soul, because this never happened to me except for the version of it that did happen to me. In her case, it was a conversation with a friend in high school:

I approached him in the library of our school. He was studying for a geometry test. He saw me, closed his notebook, and smiled. “I feel like,” he said, teasing me, “there might be something you want to talk to me about.” I told him yes, there was, and I said that I wanted to go to the homecoming dance with him and would he take me. “Of course,” he said. Relief flooded through me so quickly it turned my stomach. “But,” he continued, “there’s something very important I need to talk to you about first.” He proceeded to tell me that our female friends had been pressuring him for weeks to ask me to the dance, not wanting me to feel left out. “They love you,” he said, “but they pity you and their pity won't help you in the world.” I can, to this day, recall the exact even tone in his voice, his smile. He reached across the table and took my hand. “I want to tell you something as your friend,” he said. “I want to protect you. When you ask a man like me on a date, you put us in a bad position.” He was still smiling; I was having a cute delusion and was in need of his loving, if uncomfortable, correction. “It’s just the truth,” Jim said. “No man will want to date you unless he, too, is desperate or ugly.”

What I've felt, since I was very young, was this sense not just that no one would ever love me, but that I was so pitiful, so unlovable, such a complete failure of femininity, that expressing interest in another person was tantamount to forcing them to pity-fuck me. And how could I do something that horrible to them?

Well, at least in the years since then, I've learned that actually people feel no compunction about rejecting me!

I have almost always felt like such a complete failure at femininity, to the point that discussions about the female experience feel hypnotically surreal, because these things never happen to me. Y'all get catcalled and hit on? I'm struggling to dredge up memories of experiencing that firsthand. I grew up with grownups always warning me about men who'd want me for sex but didn't actually love me, and now I'm like... being wanted for sex? What's that like? I have literally ten seconds of experience of my desire for someone else being something that excited and interested them.

This is my own personal neurosis, not a prescription for widespread behaviour. But I've always kind of hated when people talk about slowburn romances and stories with pining as "two idiots in love" because on a visceral level, it doesn't feel stupid to me to believe you're repulsive and nobody will ever want you. It has always felt like the natural and obvious conclusion to enter adulthood with.

Up until two weeks ago I've always been very careful to describe my feelings about my body as part of me being crazy--I hate the way I look, I don't like seeing or hearing recordings of myself, I think I'm not pretty. Because obviously that means I'm actively working to rid myself of those emotions and attitudes! I've got it handled! I've admitted that I have a problem!

And that's because I always had it locked away in my heart that if I tried to make a factual claim about being ugly, people would say "No you're not!" just to make me feel better, and then I would never ever know if anyone who found me attractive really meant it, or if they were just doing it out of pity.

That is crazy. That's holding onto the lesson of that fucking shitbag who found Chloé attractive and fuckable two months fucking later once he got over himself. That's sitting around waiting for someone to come climb up into my unfuckable tower and do all the work of establishing a relationship themselves. That's lesbian sheep behaviour.

It's only just begun to feel possible that I could begin to take steps to seek people out and express interest in them, instead of holding perfectly still and making someone else do all the heavy lifting to get to me, when I haven't even made it known I wanted them to.

But this doesn't get talked about as part of "the female experience". When men talk about women's experiences in the dating market, they absolutely never mean women like me. Why bother with the experiences of women they wouldn't want to fuck anyway? It's not like we're people or some shit like that.

#staranise original #body image tw #ableism tw #feminist discourse #easy beauty #chloé cooper jones

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jellycrusher · 6 months

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Wolves and Lambs: Part 4

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Summary: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 5.8k

Chapter's Premise: y/n finds herself trying to come to terms on who she is and how she avoided her heat for so long.

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"You heard the doctor. You have to stop taking your suppressants for a while." Megan takes the prescription sheet from your hands and shoves it in her bag.

Both of you just came out from the doctor's office. Megan was meticulous in giving you a disguise just in case anyone is going to spot you. You put your head down and hide in your little canopy of protection, your Aston Martin hat. A bit obvious but it's the only one you have at the moment.

"I can't. If it comes during a race weekend, I'm dead." You reply as you walk side by side with Megan, confined by the hospital walls.

"Ay Dios Mio. Your constant intake of suppressants may be the reason why you haven't had your first heat yet at 25 years old. We don't know if there's gonna be negative side effects on your health." Megan tries her best to whisper under her breath.

"Hey, that's not proven." You halt in your steps and turn to her, lifting your head up to face her.

"But the doc says it may be a factor. You can't keep it hidden forever. It has to come sooner or later. If it comes biting your ass, don't come running to me for help."

"I don't want to be confined on what biology or society dictates me to be. I want to prove to everyone first what I can do and who I am." You continue to walk.

"I understand. I just don't want something bad to happen to you." She groaned.

"Fine. If I win a race, then i'll start tapering my dosage. I'll let it come when it wants to come."

"When you win a podium, not a race. Better odds."

"Fine. A podium."

You felt like you've been basking in the sun, warm against your skin. You didn't want to look at yourself. For every second after that encounter in the elevator until now that you've stayed frozen behind the door of your room, everything was silent.

Your body was fighting your mind. You didn't want this. For so many years, your family and friends, who knew what you really are, told you that we're all bound to meet our mate. We'll know when we meet them.

No. You don't want to. Maybe just not right now. Yes, it's romantic to see couples who are mated and are having the time of their lives. But what if they fell for another person before they met their mate? And what if they refuse their Alpha? What would happen?

Right now, you just want to succeed in this career first. Call yourself stupid for going against your biological desires but there's a lot riding on this. Your parents sacrificed a lot just to get where you are right now. You want to prove that Omegas can also achieve greatness. Female Omegas can also stand in the halls of the greats.

Maybe you're just stubborn. Meeting your mate wouldn't be the end of the world. If you give in, you won't lose anything. Maybe.

Maybe you're just overthinking. Maybe you're being too stubborn.

Max is not a bad person. You've said it yourself before. He is actually a decent guy. Well, just from your text messages but there were no deep conversations yet. You don't love him to see him as your mate. You might learn to love him but it doesn't feel right for your feelings to be swayed just because your biological desires him so.

You barely slept a wink last night. The inkling that bothered you for a few weeks now since the first race have just been confirmed, and the fact that Max left you a lot of messages that you haven't read yet made your mind in a state of disarray.

Megan barged in your room to wake you up. She even had to throw the covers off the bed and furiously opened the curtains, blinding you with the beaming sun. You groan hard as she pulls you out of the comfort of your bed.

"I can't believe this. We're late! Ay Santo Dios..." Megan continued to mention a lot of words that you were not familiar with as she looks at your commitments for the day from her phone screen.

It only took a few moments and the both of you are now on your merry way to the circuit with you being the driver. Megan was still very furious at you for you haven't given her a reason for your tardiness. At the same time, your phone was still blowing up from Max's messages.

"I've had it with your ringtone. I'll set it to silent." Megan pulls your phone from the center console and sees '50 messages' beside the name 'He Who Must Be Avoided At All Times' on the screen.

"It's fine, leave it." You're barely able to look at Megan because you had to focus on the road.

"Who's this? Is there a guy bothering you? Stalking you?!" she asks.

"No. Just leave it." With eyes still glued to the road, you try to yank the phone off her hands.

"Tell me. Is it a stalker?! 'Cause if it is, i'll kill him." She warned.

"Please no. Relax, it's not a stalker." You assured in a calm tone as she hands the phone to you.

"Y/N. If you're in a dangerous situation and you're not telling me, your mom will kill me." She appealed.

Well, that's not impossible. These two are overprotective.

"Megan..." You paused. Megan patiently waits for your answer as you drum your fingers anxiously on the wheel. "It's Max."

"Oh, Max... Wait, who's Max? from Red Bull?" Megan rambles. "Why? Did he do anything to you?"

"He did nothing. It's just.. He found out last night that I was an Omega. I've been avoiding his texts since then." You confessed, tightening your grip on the wheel.

"How? You were always careful."

"That's the thing. I was. I'm still on my suppressants." You gently scratch the surface of the wheel. "Remember when you told me how you met your husband? Your mate?"

"Yes." Megan now replied slowly, now under a notion at where the conversation is going. "Oh my god! Is he..?"

"I think so." you confessed.

Megan was about to shriek from joy but she stopped for she knew how you would respond. For her, it sounds romantic. For you, it's not. She can't count how many times your rejected the idea of having a biological mate. It wasn't against the law of anybody to love somebody else aside your fated mate but for your body to act against your will regardless of what you feel. That's what you dislike about it.

"I still have to talk to him about it. I can't have him blabbering to everyone on the grid." You added. "Let's take this one step at a time."

"You still have a race later. Better focus on that first." She replies as she takes off her seatbelt when you arrived at the car park in the circuit.

Megan hauled you to the team hospitality to prepare you for the drivers' briefing. When you arrived at the briefing hall, majority of the drivers were already seated and the team principals were standing around in a circle, chatting. You stood by the door looking for an empty seat to take when you saw Charles, Oscar, and Lando calling you to take the seat they reserved for you on the third row. Your feet took a few steps when a hand suddenly but gently caught your wrist.

"We need to talk. You've been ignoring my texts." Max urged, eyes dead straight at you.

"Max, not here. Later." You scan the room for any eyes or ears that might eavesdrop as you carefully remove his hand from you.

Max takes a second to compose himself then tugs his hand through his hair. "Fine. Sit with me then."

"I'll choose my own seat. Thank you." You replied as you walk away from him, not giving him enough time to add more. Max's hand hovered uncertainly as if to stop you but he lets his hand limp

You strut farther into the hall and the three men gave you space to stride along the third row to take your seat between Charles and Oscar. Max took an empty seat on the first row beside Checo. He can't help but steal some glances in your direction during the driver's briefing.

It was hard to ignore Max as well. One good thing that your incident with Max has caused is that his scent doesn't make you cower in fear anymore. Knowing the reason why the dynamics between the two of you had changed, you mentally slap your pheromone-disturbed self from inhaling his lingering scent.

His scent wasn't really distinct before. For you, it was associated with fear or something menacing, but now he smelled so crisp like Cotton and sweet like baked Tangerine. Being that close to each other gave you a chance to actually distinguish his scent. Just remembering Max's small sniffs on your neck makes your body squirm, in a good way. It was nice and comforting. But it also felt sensual.

Alpha smells so good. Let's smell him once more. You mentally slap yourself once more, shaking off the tiny voice from your inner Omega in your head.

"I heard from Lance that you're moving. Where will you stay?" Charles' voice took you out from your trance just as the drivers' briefing just ended.

"In Monaco. It being a tax-free haven sounds enticing." you replied in glee knowing that it was the Monegasque who asked you.

Noticing the other younger drivers to turn to you after hearing your response, it took a moment for you to remember that a number of them were living there.

Lando perks up, legs bouncing. He leans forward and peeked his head across Oscar. "Do you know how to play Padel?" you shake your head. "We'll teach you. We had been waiting for another member to join our little club."

"He just wants to have the bragging right when he defeats all of us." Oscar chuckled, arms crossed on his chest.

"He even almost made Max cry. Have some mercy on all of us, will you?" Charles adds, further teasing Lando.

"I'll tell you when I've settled in. Maybe a housewarming lunch or dinner sounds good?" You ask. Lando quickly taps Alex's shoulder to tell him about your new residence and a possibility of a new member for their F1 drivers-exclusive Padel Club.

"I'm going to tour you to some of the best places. You still owe me a car ride." Charles couldn't help but smile at you, already making up a list in his mind.

When the briefing ended, all of the drivers went their own way back to their hospitalities. At the corner of your eyes, you saw Max hurriedly stood up from his seat on the first row and was about to make his way towards you. He noticed the miniscule squirm your body did when your eyes met. You almost panic in your seat but he came to an abrupt stop when he saw Megan pull you away.

Max tried his best to look for a chance to talk to you, much to his dismay. There wasn't much time for each of the drivers to get to interact with each other, especially during race day. After some of his media commitments in the morning were done, he went to visit the Aston Martin hospitality. He comes up to the small ledge when he saw Lance chatting with some of the staff.

"Hey Lance." Lance gets up from his seat when he noticed Max and greets him with a one-armed hug and a double backslap. "Have you seen y/n?"

"I think Sky Sports has her for an interview, I think. You know, the usual." Lance replies as he sits down. Max groans go unnoticed.

"Do you know when she might be free? I need to talk to her." Max asks as he leans his hand on the ledge.

"Maybe after the race? Her schedule's so full today. Haven't even seen her stay here in the hospitality for more than 15 minutes. Megan even got her shooting a lot of content for our Tiktok account."

"Megan?" Max quirks up his eyebrow.

"Speaking of..." Lance chimed in as he spots Megan behind Max, about to walk inside. "Megan!" She stops and turns to Lance's direction. "He's looking for y/n." He points at Max and Megan's eyes follow.

Megan thought differently when she saw Max right there, comfortably leaning on the ledge. It was in her overprotective instinct to assume that Max might possibly be a snitch or asking anyone in the team regarding what you are. She walks up to Max and asked him to come with her, already walking away without waiting for a response. Max was confused at first but did not hesitate to follow behind.

Max and Megan comes to a halt in an empty corner in the paddock, away from prying eyes.

"What are you doing?" Megan snaps around and narrows her eyes at him, arms crossed on her chest.

"I was just asking for y/n." Max innocently confessed.

"Were you going to tell on her? I can't believe you." She leans forward as if interrogating the driver.

Max leans back, baffled by the sudden change in demeanor. "No. Of course not... Wait, you know?" He tries to whisper.

She tries to examine his face for a minute for any sign of a lie but relaxes when she felt that he was telling the truth. "Listen, Max. I know she's been avoiding you but I need her to be at her best today. She needs to be on that podium."

"Don't we all?" Max scoffs.

"No, you don't understand. I need her to be on the podium because her health is on the line. I've let her be stubborn for too long 'cause she's in love with racing too much but I finally had her to agree, at last. I don't know what's going on between the two of you but please don't distract her too much today." She pleads with a serious tone.

Max hated knowing that it wasn't his place to pry. All he wanted from you was answers but it seems that even more questions are piling up. What does she mean? Your health is on the line? Are you sick? Are you injured? How is it connected to you getting that podium?

His inner Alpha was trying to fight himself.

Our omega... She's hurt or sick. Ask for more information. No, we're clearly told to stay put. She's not ours. Isn't it clear that she's avoiding us? Than ask her directly. Let's smell her again. No. Just shut up. Stay.

"Understood?" Megan asserts herself, taking Max out of his trance.

"Yes ma'am."

Megan waited for a bit to see how Max would take their conversation but left quickly when she saw that people are now starting to crowd the paddock. Max stayed in that quiet corner for a few seconds before going out into the paddock. There he saw you, sitting just outside your team's hospitality with Alonso and surrounded by a few cameras and staff. Probably completing a challenge with your teammate. His eyes locked onto you, taking in your smile. It was invigorating for him to see you having fun.

He used to feel so foreign around you. When he sees you having fun with his friends, it irritated him. His face used to turn sour when Lando or Alex hype you up.

There was something about you that intrigues him. You weren't able to race with most of them back then. Charles was a bit familiar with you because you got to race alongside his brother. Oscar and Logan had only met you once or twice and they had raced with you in a few Grand Prix but usually a lot of drivers keep to themselves and stayed in their own garages.

Then there's the big elephant in the room. You were an Omega, no doubt. After the incident in the elevator, he did scour the internet after his haze faded when he got back in his room. There were only articles about you stating that you were an Alpha, your achievements in F2 and F3, and also the highlights of your racing career. No scandals, not much haters. There were no articles claiming you have a bad beef with any driver.

For a public personality, you kept pretty quiet. Maybe that's why no one has discovered your secret yet. But that would be an extreme feat. To conceal your identity. What about heats? The horrendous and taxing schedule of Formula 1 isn't really ideal for Omegas. He recalled when Lando had to deal with Oscar's heat every month. When they were still unmated, Lando had to tiptoe around Oscar and avoid him when his pheromones were on the highest setting. How the other drivers reacted to him when it came around race weekend. It took them at least 5 months to come to the truth that they needed each other.

It was a bit easier for Oscar because everyone knows that he is an Omega since the start. They knew they had to avoid him when Lando or Oscar gave them a heads up. It scares him thinking that it will be much harder for you but it was also amazing how good you hide it.

Questions for another day, he admits to himself.

You were having a blast going against Nando in a PR competition when you spot Max walking through the paddock. Your eyes met and it made you nervous that he might come up and wait for you but no, he avoided your eyes and continued to walk. Your eyes followed his figure, relieved but also worried. Fernando had to call your attention to continue the challenge.

Your PR and media commitments were finally done and then, there was the driver's parade. The crowds in the grandstands were almost full and it was deafening. Everyone was screaming each of the drivers' names when they were called and when it was your turn to be introduced, it was heartwarming to hear their warm welcome. A smile so wide painted your face as you greet the driver while stepping in the convertible car and sat on the surface of the rear end near the deck lid.

You waited for your car's cue to go but you see it got delayed. There were a slight commotion amongst the staff that were on standby on the track and they were pointing to something behind you. You turn around and they were checking the car behind yours that was supposed to be for Max. Apparently, the engine of his parade car won't start again.

Fernando's car already left way before you and also Checo's. The staff are now pointing at yours and you see that the people who were talking to Max assisted him to get off the car. They were ushering him to your direction. Someone slapped Max's car number onto the side of your convertible. You now realize that they're letting you and Max share a car so that this problem won't delay the program.

The car shook slightly as Max climbs up the convertible. Max sees you scooting to one side trying to avoid his eyes so he quietly sat down on the other side of the convertible's rear. Both of you started to wave to the crowd as the engine of the convertible purred. Max would steal a few glances when you're not looking. Your body was stiff and awkward, in contrast to what you were showing the crowd, smiling and waving.

"Relax. It's not like I bite." Max spoke up just loud enough for you to hear under all those noise. "Just concentrate on the race later or else, you'll be an easy target for these guys."

You snap your head around and glared at him. He had this smug smile while still waving. "They wish." You scoff.

With just a few words from him, you find your shoulders loosening up. Slightly offended by his insinuation but you knew that he was just riling you up. It was also surprising that Max didn't bother to disturb you since the briefing. You would be at shoulder's length but still, he'd just nod when your eyes met.

The drivers' parade ended quickly and every driver headed for their respective garages to prepare. You spent the remaining time training with your physio and getting enough rest. The last program was for the national anthem. You make your way onto the track and answered a few questions for a Sky Sports presenter who was roaming and interviewing some of the drivers. You stood behind a grid kid to take your place and kept quiet. Right before the anthem was played, you noticed the female grid kid trying to steal a look at you. You smile back at her and she quietly squealed as she swiftly face in front. When the anthem finished playing and as you follow the other drivers exiting the track, your grid kid raised her hand to request for a high five. You gladly pressed your palm on hers and the other grid kids also eagerly raised their hand as you pass by them, catching the attention of the other drivers and the cameras.

You find yourself gritting your teeth and hands clenching the wheel as you drive the car in your grid position at the track during the formation lap. You look up at the red lights above.

"It's lights out and away we go, here at the Jeddah Corniche Circuit! and it's Max Verstappen who takes the lead of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix."

With a good reaction time, you were able to overtake three places from 15th. You were able to fend for your position well in those crucial first few laps of the race. You attacked, you defended, you attacked, you defended. It was a constant cycle.

Max, who had started in pole position, lost the lead to Charles on the third sector in the second lap, won it back by the fourth lap and slowly and methodically pulled away for his second win of the season.

It took you only eight laps to move into 10th place, and only eight more to rise to sixth. By the halfway point of the race, and helped by the fortuitous arrival of a safety car that allowed you to make up even more ground, you find yourself in fourth.

"Y/n had played down her chances of victory from the moment a broken drive shaft ended her qualifying early Saturday and left her in 15th place. But that did not mean she had any intention of staying in the back of the field. Look at her picking her way through the pack behind her with ease"

Your driving style was aggressive and clever, a total beast on the offence. The journalists have also made note of your tyre preservation prowess. They have published a few articles after the first race mentioning that with your pairing with Alonso this year, Aston Martin can gain considerable confidence that it will be regularly able to take on the red cars and the black ones fielded by Mercedes too.

At around lap 46, Ben informs you through the radio that Lewis who is in P3 at the moment incurred a 5 second penalty. With Charles on P2 just 2 seconds ahead of Lewis and you tailing behind just a second away, there might be a chance for you to end up on the podium at the end of this race. You just have to maintain the gap behind Lewis and also for Lewis to continue battling with Charles.

Ben: "So, one more lap y/n, just bring it home." Y/N: "Think something happened to my left tyre." Ben: "Ok, copy. So Sainz, 30 seconds behind, battling with Russell."

You peek at your front left tyre and it was starting to wobble. You may have hit something on the track, possibly puncturing the tyre.

Ben: "If you go Diff-Mid 12, Sainz 20 seconds and gap to Lewis is 2 seconds." Ben: "Now 17 seconds. Now 16 seconds."

The car was already slowing down and the left tyre was tumbling around on its rim. Ben was constantly updating you but you did not bother to respond.

Ben: "So use Strat 5. 10 seconds to Sainz and 3 seconds from Lewis." Ben: "7 seconds to Sainz. 6 seconds to Sainz." Ben: "Maintain this gap to Lewis. 4 seconds."

You've passed the last corner and about to go on the straight where the chequered flag should be when you saw Sainz closely tailing behind you. With your feet instinctively pushing flat out, your car zoomed past and hopefully closing the gap with Lewis in less than 5 seconds for P3 position.

Y/N: "Do we have it?! TELL ME BEN, DO WE HAVE IT??" Ben: "That's it, y/n! You've done it, P3! YOU'VE DONE IT! Wow, you've done it y/n." Y/N: "Was there a flag? I did not see it." Ben: "There was a flag. You've done it though. Just stop. You can pull the car over. We'll come and get you." Y/N: "Fuck that was close! Sorry for the profanity." Ben: "Yeah, I was about to say the same thing. That was a close call. Too close for comfort. But awesome work, mate." Y/N: "LET'S GO!!!!! BEN, WE DID IT!!!"

Your team radio is now being broadcasted across all tv screens worldwide. As Max and the other drivers complete their slow lap around the track after they've crossed the line, they catch a glimpse of you in the screens. Throwing your hands in celebration, still inside the cockpit. When you got out of the car at the side of the track, you knelt down and pats the damaged tyre aggressively as if thanking the car.

You had to do your best as not to cry from overwhelming joy. You felt like you won the race for P3 but you didn't. It was as if you were soaring through the clouds right then. The crowds at the grandstands were screaming your name, fireworks were setting off in the background. That was for Max, of course, but it couldn't hurt to imagine that it could be for you too.

You were picked up by a safety car and your car was towed to the parc ferme. When you got out of the car, Oscar jumped at the moment to wrap you in a hug, Lando following behind.

Warm and sincere congratulations, pats on the backs and helmet taps too, were sent over your way when you threw yourself to your team of mechanics and engineers who were waiting on the other side of the barricade. You took off your helmet and balaclava so you could properly breathe and to revel in the sounds of your victory.

You were the first one who had to do the post-race interview, followed by Charles in P2 and Max in P1. You couldn't contain your smile, choking on your words yet again.

"Y/n!" David Coulthard calls out your name in joy. "That was an amazing race. You had your maiden pole last race and now, your maiden F1 podium after just 2 races in this season. Could you tell me more?"

"With the information of Lewis' 5 second penalty, I had to give everything on the table. I've never had a race like that before. We tried to maintain the gap but also had to monitor Carlos behind as well. It was a team effort and I couldn't have done it without them."

"Your last lap had us trembling in our seats. You managed to bring home your car across the line in that state. How did you do it?" David asked with such enthusiasm.

"I don't know how I've managed to be cool in that period but I just... I had no choice. Survival instincts came over me and I've come all this way. I'm not gonna pull over and back off to let anyone drive pass. I was thinking 'How can I get there with taking as much risks as possible without losing the car altogether?'. I still can't believe I did it." You try to take a few deep breaths after you finished your interview, still reeling in from that feeling of accomplishment.

Max and Charles pats your back as the three of you walked towards the cooldown room. The huge screen showing the highlights of the race, including your tyre mishap and struggle to cross the finish line for P3. Charles hands you a water bottle and you took it, not peeling your eyes away from the screen. If you only had your phone, you would take a photo of the small pillar with a huge number 3 and a small screen playing your driver intro bit.

The three of you are now ushered to prepare for the podium ceremony. Your feet was quick to move after your name was called. The crowd roared with applause and cheers as you made your way up the podium. You stood patiently on your step as you hear Charles' and Max's name. Despite feeling a bit flushed due to the adrenaline from winning P3, your cheeks felt a bit cold as you place your hands on the side of your face.

Your race suit now wet from the champagne being sprayed amongst the podium placers. Charles and Max were having fun targeting you, spraying the champagne at your face. They both admired your blissful smile and eyes filled with euphoria.

"Champagne suits you. Congratulations y/n!" Max can't help but admit to himself that you were an excellent racer. Your expression softened when you heard him and it's like Max's heart skipped a beat.

"Thanks Max. Congratulations on winning!" As if the champagne rain slowed down, it was just you and Max. The stage lights made the champagne sparkle, trickling down on both of you. He never saw anyone be so ecstatic in getting P3 but you made celebrating look so beautiful and graceful.

You watched Max's face as he shared a smile with you but not a second later, you could clearly see the horror in his face as his body stiffen.

"Y/n, your nose." Charles cocks his head to the side of Max, inconspicuously pointing to his nose, prompting you to do the same. Your hand crept up to your face and it was met by a warm liquid oozing down your nose. When you swiped it off, you saw blood on your fingertips.

Max was quick to turn you around, shielding you from the cameras. You try to wipe your nose with your arm but the blood can't seem to stop.

"Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you want us to call the medics?" Max whispers in panic, still spraying the champagne at Charles and towards the crowd below as he shields you behind him. To the people below and in the crowd, it was as if you're just wiping the champagne off your face.

"Relax. It's just a nosebleed. This will pass." You whispered, still trying to wipe off the remaining blood. The sleeve of your green suit now tinted red. "What the heck, it's not stopping."

"Y/n, I think the cameramen are now noticing." Charles' eyes darted to the cameramen below and above.

"I've been a bit more anemic lately. I think that's why." You murmured.

"When Megan told me that your health is compromised, is this it?" Max leans to your side a bit, still facing front and waving to the crowd.

"You talked to her? What did she tell you?!" You glared at Max, surprising the two men.

"Y/n, Max, can you two talk about it later? We're still on the podium." Charles cleared his throat.

You slightly nudged Max away from you, not noticed by the crowd, while you pinch your nose and cover your face. Max can't help but stare in concern at your figure. His inner Alpha wanting to carry you and rush to medic's tent.

Then the ceremony ended.

"Y/n, come on. I haven't told him much, I promise. I just told him to leave you alone that day." Megan pleaded as she follows you while carrying a large box filled with your household items.

You open the door to let Megan in but you avoid her eyes. She darts across the empty unit, footsteps echoing along the walls, to place the box labeled 'Kitchen Items' down on the floor. You sighed, accepting defeat, as you drop the huge bag of items that you were carrying.

"Fine, but next time, stop telling him unnecessary information."

"Hey, your health was not an unnecessary information. I'm just glad you're fine now. I told you that your prolonged use of suppressants will eventually bite you in the ass." She rambled.

"Yes, yes. You gotta stop scolding me. It's been like a thousand times already." You groaned. "I got the podium and I'm on a suppressant detox. Happy?"

"Yes. I'm working on your schedule just in case it came early." Megan skips across the unit and stopped near the door. "I'll get the last box. You can stay here just in case the delivery company calls through the intercom." She exits the unit after you nod your head.

The empty huge apartment unit was now filled with unopened boxes. There were no furnitures yet but the anticipation of decorating your new home is making you excited. Wood and cured paint scent filled the air. It was relaxing for you but after a while, it's actually nauseating so you open the door to the balcony.

Coldness of the elegant granite greeted your arms as you lean against it. Your apartment is located in a spot overlooking the marina where you can spot plentiful yachts. With just a soft breeze, you could almost smell the sea. Even with your eyes closed, you could vividly visualize the city below you from its sound. The hustle and bustle of Monaco.

Closing your eyes for a few seconds made you yawn. You are still recovering from that horrific anemic bout during the podium ceremony in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. The team had to recommend you to a local hospital for a check up and was just given a prescription. You took a flight out the next day and went straight to "Moving Out" mode. It hasn't been two days since the race but here you are, renting a luxurious apartment in Monaco, about to live your best life.

"Looks like you could fit a head in your mouth." You heard a familiar warm voice coming from above your balcony. When you opened your eyes, there was someone peeking their head out of their balcony and looking down below at you, apparently still yawning. You closed your mouth in embarrassment.

"Max?!"

"Hi neighbor!"

Next part: Part 5

Taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @fanboyluvr @giffywiffy3408 @notyouraveragemochii @cmleitora @exotic-iris13 @topguncultleader @mirrorball-6 @barcelonaloverf1life @silscintilla @aquangxl @whyamireadingthis @imaddict

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is-the-post-reliable · 8 months

Note

It kind of annoys me that the magnification effect in the magnifying glass is wrong. With a magnifying glass perpendicular to your line of sight, the things behind it should move further away from the center I think (I haven't fact checked this, and don't have one on me, but I have used them in the past and that should be what making the thing in the circle larger does from a maths perspective), not closer to the center, even though it makes it more visible. I think you could fix this by making the magnifying glass tilted (because moving the post might make it not visible or properly centered), but I'm unsure of the angles necessary or even if that actually would work. This isn't a major issue, and I won't be upset if you keep it, it's just something I wanted to say in case you feel like it is worth fixing.

I was really confused why you were explaining this to me, before I realised that I probably never mentioned that I studied optometry at uni, and therefore very much understand how lenses work. As much as I enjoy some accurate physics, I took some creative licence with this to make it more aesthetically pleasing.

That being said, if the lens is in motion, and is being moved to the viewer's right, then because this is a plus lens, the image will move in the opposite direction of the lens, creating the effect shown in the icon. This is used in hand neutralisation the measure the prescription or power of a lens. You can read more about this here

I'm not sure, but I suspect what you're referencing may be barrel distortion? Which is common in spherical lenses with a high plus. That being said, I did actually include some barrel distortion if you look closely, as the left edge of the post is to the left of the optical centre, and curves in the same way barrel distortion would.

#ask #anon #pfp #not a fact check

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 9 months

Text

King of My Heart | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (I think it's pretty GN, lemme know if it's not!)

Warnings: Curse words, fluff!

Author's note: Remember the 'untitled Spencer fic' in my ideas poll? This is the one! If you have 20/20 vision (fy, honestly), you probably won't relate to this, but indulge me, please? Thank you. Sincerely, a glasses/contact lenses-wearing gal.

Words: 2K

Nursing my cup of coffee in the break room, I read through the case file JJ had given us. We had been working on it for three days straight and were still so far from a solution. It had been hard to think without any sleep for thirty-six hours. And the humid San Francisco air didn’t help me much either.

My eyes were as dry as a desert, making wearing contact lenses hurt like a bitch.

I harshly squeezed my eyes as I looked at the file, in hopes to get them some moisture. Of course I had forgotten to pack my glasses. Most of the time, I don’t even need them. Without them, I could just see about enough to stumble from the bathroom to any bed. But I couldn’t take them out while working.

“Hey,” the familiar voice of Spencer Reid captured my attention.

Spencer and I had hit it off quite quickly when I joined the BAU one and a half years after he had. Mostly because we were the closest in age and our similar interests had drawn us together as well as the fact I had spilt coffee over him the first time we met. Now, one year later, the two of us were pretty much inseparable. Even our supervisor, Aaron Hotchner, barely dared to split us up. Put the two of us together and we’d come up with the best theory for the case we were working on.

“Oh, hi, pretty boy,” I greeted back, smiling up at him with narrowed eyes.

He offered me one of the pastries he and JJ went to get before they came into the precinct. “Here. You need some sugar,” he told me and I gladly accepted the sugary good. Spencer took a seat opposite of me, delving into his own pastry.

“Oh, King of my heart,” I grumbled, enjoying the food a little too much.

“Did you find anything in that code yet?” he asked instead, ignoring my food-orgasm.

Shaking my head, I broke off a piece of the pastry and popped it into my mouth. “I thought it was the Caesar Shift first, but I can’t figure out what the shift would be…” I mumbled, furiously pressing my knuckle underneath my right eye.

When Spencer didn’t react to my mumblings, I looked up to find him rummaging through his satchel. I furrowed my brows as he procured a rectangle-shaped box and out came his glasses. Confusion rose within me as he offered them to me, which I believed was apparent on my face as he explained himself.

“Take out your contacts and put my glasses on,” he ordered in that honey-sweet voice he only ever used on me. “You’ve been squinting and blinking for about half an hour while going through that file and your eyes are bright red. So, unless you want to tell me you’re on drugs right now, take out your contacts and put these on.”

Hesitantly, I reached for the frames. “Spence, do we even have the same prescription?”

“You’re a -2 on both eyes, aren’t you?”

It surprised me a little that he knew that. More than it surprised me that he knew I was struggling. He was a profiler after all.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer said and took another bite of the pastry in his hand, watching me to make sure I’d put the glasses on.

My eyes skidded from the glasses to Spencer and back. “I don’t have my little contact case with me here. It’s in the hotel.”

I shouldn’t be surprised when Spencer fished out a bottle of lens care solution and an exact replica of my contacts case, but somehow, I was. This guy kept on surprising me, no matter how well I thought I knew him.

“Now, take out your contacts and put my glasses on.”

Sometimes, Spencer would do these things, these tiny gestures that had my stomach fluttering in a way that a friend shouldn’t make you. It was often just him getting my coffee in the mornings or handing me a sweater when I shivered. He got me food before I even realized I was hungry or a glass of water before I realized I hadn’t even drank anything that day.

He was simply marvelous and it was merely impossible not to fall for him.

Once I had Spencer’s glasses on and looked at the code again, I finally deciphered it. Excitedly, I ran into the briefing room where Derek, Elle, Spencer and Hotch were gathered. I was too focused on explaining them the theory behind the code, that I had missed the exchange of glances between Derek and Elle until they voiced their thoughts.

“Are you wearing Reid’s glasses?” Morgan asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Yes, my contacts were hurting me, but that’s not the point–” I said before lapsing back into my explanation. There was no time to stand still to explain to them why I was wearing Spencer’s glasses nor did we have time for them to tease me about it.

Though it wasn’t until two days after the case that Elle eventually spoke to me about it. The team had decided to go for drinks at O’Keefe’s and Spencer had handed me the back-up sweater he kept in his satchel for me.

“So,” Elle started when she joined me at the bar to grab another drink. “When are you gonna admit you’re in love with him?”

Though my cheeks felt hot, I scoffed. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“You’re wearing his sweater,” she pointed out, bemused that I would even try and lie to her.

I shook my head. “No, this is my sweater… Which he evidently keeps in his bag for me because he knows I always forget it and I… just… like… how it smells –” I groaned, rolling my eyes while Elle let out a loud cackle. “Fine! Fine. Okay?” I sneered.

“Admit it.”

“I admit it, okay? I am… in love with Spencer – But how could I not?” I hissed at her before turning my head to look over at our table where Spencer, Hotch and Derek were laughing at something Penelope had said. “He keeps doing these… gestures… Like, the other day, I was struggling because my eyes were hurting so much and he just handed me his glasses. He remembered my prescription and knew I was struggling before I could even tell him.”

A smile landed on Elle’s lips as she nodded her head. “And he always brings you your coffee in the mornings.”

“You noticed that too?” Elle nodded her head in response. “See, I couldn’t not fall in love with him. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose,” I said between gritted teeth as though I was actually mad at Spencer for making me fall for him.

My coworker scoffed. “Almost like he’s in love with you, or something.” The sarcasm was dripping off her words, but I shook my head at her.

“No, he’s not. He’s just… nice like that.”

Glaring at me, Elle conveyed her message of, “Are you kidding me?” before the words actually left her mouth.

Her words haunted me for a good week before I finally dared to ask Spencer about it. Though it was more snapping at him rather than actually asking him. During one particular case, I was getting frustrated by the way he was treating me and the way it was making me feel, I let those feelings take the better of me.

For an entire day, I had been crabby and snapping at everyone who even dared to insinuate I was on my period. Of course, I was, inconveniently, on my period, but no man needed to tell me to calm down. Spencer must’ve noticed, because that night, he knocked on my hotel room door.

“Hi,” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Are you here to tell me I shouldn’t have been so snappy towards that captain? Because I know,” I told him immediately, not even giving him a ‘hi’ back.

He shook his head and held up a tub of ice cream and a hot water bottle. “I got these from the reception.”

Eyeing up the items in his hands, my insides went all mushy. But before I could allow myself to melt into putty, I groaned and turned on my heel, marching into the room and leaving the door open for Spencer to walk in. Confused, he followed behind me and closed the door behind him.

“Are you okay, y/n?”

“No! No, I’m not okay, Spencer.”

He looked at me and seemed so lost. There was no reason for me to snap at him, but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t handle this ball of feelings sitting in my chest. It was bound to explode at some point and that point was now. All it took was for him to knock on my door with ice cream and a hot water bottle.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? What’d I do?”

After rubbing my hands across my face, I tangled them into my hair, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. “How do you expect me not to fall in love with you when you keep doing shit like this?!”

Spencer flinched slightly at the volume of my voice and the harshness of my words. Once it registered in that magnificent brain of his, he let out a chuckle. It surprised me a little that he found this so amusing. My anguish was amusing to him.

“Do you think it was easy for me to try and not fall in love with you when you spilt coffee on me the first time we met and you were dabbing my chest with napkins?”

The memory of meeting him in the coffee shop before either of us even knew we were going to be colleagues, flooded into my mind. I was nervous for my first day at the BAU when I smashed into him, coffee flying everywhere. He’d tried to calm me down, spewing facts about coffee and people wanting to outlaw it.

“Do you think it was easy for me not to fall in love with you when you asked me to go and watch that French film about the choir without subtitles? Or when you call me ‘pretty boy’? Or when you get all clingy when you’re drunk?” he scoffed, his eyes trained on me whilst my insides turned to mush.

“I’ve been trying to push these feelings away since we met at that coffee shop, y/n, but I realized that I couldn’t turn them off. I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with you because you are quite literally the person of my dreams and I wanna continue to take care of you and make sure you feel loved because that’s what you deserve.”

My eyes watered at his words, my brain registering that everything happening at that time was real and not a dream. As Spencer let out a relieved sigh, I knew that the waterfall of words coming out of him had been building up inside him until the dam finally broke.

He stood there, a few feet away from me, staring at me with those puppy-dog eyes that I could never really resist. His lips looked so kissable. An urge I had been able to keep at bay for a while, though it became harder and harder the longer I didn’t give in.

But right then and there, in a hotel room somewhere in Delaware, I had to give in.

Within three big strides, I was in front of him and grabbed his face, bringing his lips down to mine. The kiss surprised him a little, but he quickly melted into it and melted into me the same way I melted into him.

“The ice cream is melting,” Spencer mumbled against my lips and pecked a few short kisses to my mouth before grabbing my hand and guiding me towards the bed.

As he opened the tub of ice cream, I let out a groan. He had picked out my favorite; cookie dough. Though that didn’t surprise me anymore. “Ugh, King of my heart,” I scoffed with a delighted roll of my eyes before digging in with him.

And all at once, he was the once I had been waiting for.

King of my heart, body and soul.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #friends to lovers

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misscinnamonroll16 · 5 months

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This is what my blog has become, just brozone and trolls. Have a fanfic. this is part one of Please for God's sake, rest

Normality had fallen over the band of brozone. Hanging out and catching up. Ever since coming back to Pop Village, Clay, Floyd and John Dory were all staying in Rhonda until they finished moving all of Branchs survival supplies and such out of the rooms that he had made for them. That's what they were currently doing, moving the boxes of stuff. John Dory went to lift a box of stone spear heads, he got part way up when his back gave out. John let out a yell and fell to his knees, dropping the box. The other bros came rushing in to see what was wrong. They saw John Dory knelt down on the floor, shaking slightly. "John, you ok buddy?" Bruce asked, slowly reaching his hand towards his brother to check on him. "Please don't touch me right now." John said quietly while gritting his teeth. They could hear the pain in John's voice. Bruce sat next to John Dory, placing his hand next to JD's in case he wanted the comfort. "JD, what happened? Are you ok?" Clay asked as he sat down near John as well. Branch and Floyd looked on, concerned and wanting to help. "I finally blew out my back." John mumbled grumpily. At first none of them caught what he had said, so they asked him to repeat it. "I blew out my back, ok?!" John said, frustrated. "Oh John." Bruce said softly, gently placing his hand on JD's back. John let out a little yelp, his hair flaring out like he had been electrocuted, Bruce removed his hand immediately. "John Dory, I understand that you don't wanna be touched right now but it can't be good for your back to stay in the position you're in. Let us help you get to bed or at least the couch." Floyd suggested, gently taking John's hand, ready to help him when he needed it. "Nah, I'm good. I should be fine in a little while." John Dory responded, shifting so he was fully laying on his stomach. "I'll go get Dr. Moonbloom." Branch said, exasperated as he walked out the door and to the elevator. Branch took the elevator to the surface in search of the doctor.

Branch returned with Dr. Moonbloom, explaining the situation the best he could. Dr. Moonbloom examined John, giving him a routine check up before getting to the root of his problem. The doctor pulled out a portable x-ray machine (cartoon logic) and further examined John Dory's back. "Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is I finally get to try out my new sedative. The bad news is he's going to have to be on bed rest for at least a month, maybe more. He pulled the muscles in his lower back pretty badly." Dr. Moonbloom said, excited to use the new sedative. "But wouldn't moving his cause him more pain and hurt his back even more." Clay asked as the doctor readied her syringe with the sedative. "That's what the sedative is for. It's going to take away all his pain for a few hours and make him feel pretty good. As for moving him, I brought my portable gurney. That way moving him won't hurt his back even more." The doctor said, pulling a portable cloth gurney out of her bag (again cartoon logic). Dr. Moonbloom stuck John with the needle, injecting him with the sedative. After a few minutes, she instructed them to move him on to the gurney. A little apprehensive at first, Clay and Bruce started to move John Dory. They moved John Dory to the nearest bed, by that point he had started to doze off. Dr. Moonbloom handed Branch a prescription for pain killers and instructions on how often he can take them and side effects and such before heading off. The brothers looked at John Dory, he was barely awake and singing some intelligible tune. "Are we sure he's gonna be ok?" Floyd asked, just as worried as the rest of them. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Dr. Moonbloom is a very good doctor. But I think her sedative might be a little strong." Branch said as he set the pain killers on the nightstand.

The brothers decided to take turns watching over John Dory, making sure he doesn't need anything when the sedative wears off. Bruce goes first watching John, looking at him in a similar way to when they were little. The way he'd look at JD before bouncing on him to wake him up on Christmas morning or on one of their birthdays. Bruce got up from the chair he sat in next to the bed and reached over to remove John's goggles. They slipped off with ease. As Bruce removed John Dory's jacket, he was reminded of when they were younger and John would help Clay and Floyd take off their jackets after playing in the snow or rain. John Dory would always take theirs off first then his own, Bruce was simply returning the favor all these years later. He unbuckled John's fingerless glove and tucked it into one of the pockets on his jacket, taking note of the tan lines on his hand. His brother almost looked naked without all that on him, Bruce couldn't remember ever seeing John Dory without those silly goggles. Bruce chuckled to himself as he made himself comfortable in the chair and pulled a book out of his hair. The book was an old trollings book that he managed to find, he had read to his kids last night, remembering when their grandma had read it to them when they were little ones. "Guess I forgot to put it back in the kids' bookcase." Bruce said quietly to himself before deciding to read the story aloud to his sleeping brother.

#trolls #brozone #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls bruce #trolls john dory #branch trolls #fluff with angst #idk how to tag this #idk how to write

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oleander-nin · 9 months

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A/N, not important: So y'all picked Friday. Hopefully this won't last too long, I just need some time to get my act together. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: sick mentions, dark themes, yandere, assumed kidnapping, medicine

Words: 1052

Summary: Yandere Rottmnt when you're sick

Mikey:

The moment he realizes you’re sick, he completely 180’s and gets the most caring he can. He makes you homemade soup, fluffs up your pillows, and just tries to make you as comfortable as possible.

He knows how much being sick sucks, and as his darling, he just has to make sure you’re not in too much pain.

Makes your favorite soups and keeps a full glass of cold water by you at all times. He doesn’t want you to need something and not have it.

Will not leave your side until you’re better.

Despite you being sick, he still clings onto you. He even does it more than usual. Because of his superior immune system(due to him being a war machine and living in the sewers his whole life), Mikey isn’t worried about getting sick himself.

This leads to him cuddling you even more than before. He doesn’t want to leave you alone for even a second.

Gets super grumpy if you don’t let him take care of you. This is how he’s being helpful. He knows what to do, so he doesn’t understand why you’re being so stubborn.

Refuses to let you do anything. He practically becomes your personal servant, if not for the fact you didn’t ask for any of this.

He gets really upset when you try to deny him anything. He’s just helping you, why can’t you be more grateful.

Donnie:

He noticed the second your temperature rose. As soon as you showed the smallest symptom, he immediately went into doctor mode.

He figures out exactly what’s wrong with you. He made sure to get you your immunizations and shots when he took you, and you aren’t exposed to many pathogens or viruses while in the sterile and clean lab, so he gets really frustrated.

Even more so if the cause was because you weren’t eating or sleeping like his schedule demanded.

Donnie keeps an eye on you the entire time. He doesn’t want you to get worse.

Robs a pharmacy to get you prescription medicine if you need it. He has no problem forcing you to take it either.

Moves his work to his laptop in his room instead of being in his lab. He wants to be near you in case you need him.

Gets frustrated when you’re too stubborn to let him help. He’s not beyond strapping you down to make you eat or drink. He wants you to get better so he can go back to ‘normal’. He doesn’t like not being able to keep you by his side in the lab.

Pays more attention to you. He doesn’t let you out of his sight. Despite his ‘bad boy image’, he’s really worried. Especially since he most likely could have prevented this in some way. He’ll just be more stern next time.

Raph:

Gets really worried. He has never dealt with a human being sick before, and you’re his human, which makes it worse. You’re his responsibility, his lover. You being sick just makes him worried.

Is constantly checking with Donnie and Leo to make sure he’s doing things right by you. He won’t let them see you, of course, but he does get advice. He wants to take care of you himself.

Pretty much treats you as if you’re dying. You’re weak and fragile, this just proves it. He can’t let you try and heal without his help, you’d just shrivel up. But not on Raph’s watch.

He’s constantly bringing you your medicine. He gets upset if you don’t take it. He tries to play nice for a while, but then gives up and forces you. He can’t have you getting worse after all.

Panics at every cough and sneeze. He knows it’s something simple, but he’s still worried he might do something wrong that causes you to get worse. He couldn’t bear it if something happened to you and it was his fault.

Keeps close to you. For once, he ignores patrol and most training. He only does bicep curls in his room since he refuses to leave your side.

Gets mad at his brothers if they bother you, either on accident or on purpose. Makes his brothers text him if they need him since he doesn’t want you to wake up. Raph yells at them if they mess up. He’s stressed and fed up with them not respecting your rest.

Pretends the reason you’re fighting him is because you’re sick and not because you don’t want him around you.

Leo:

Is ecstatic now that you have to rely on him even more. You’re sick. It hurts to move, and you feel really bad. It’s the perfect opportunity for Leo to dote on you with minimal backlash.

He knows pretty quickly what’s wrong and gets the appropriate medicine. As much as he enjoys your reliance, he doesn’t want you to be sick forever. He is still worried after all. He’s just not too scared.

You have him to take care of you after all! There’s nothing to fear.

Acts very sickeningly sweet the entire time. He pretends all of your complaints are just you being delirious from the fever, or you headache messing with your thoughts.

If it persists…. He can always deal with it when you’re not in such a fragile state.

Makes you food himself. He can make pretty good soups and stews, plus, he would despise having Mikey technically be assisting. It’s his job to take care of you, and he will even if it kills him. Or some random passerby.

Actually keeps you decently comfortable. Despite being obnoxious and slightly scary the entire time, he knows what he’s doing. Your legs are propped up and a movie is almost always playing. He even lets you choose what’s playing sometimes.

Absolutely treats you like you’re unable to function. He won’t let you leave the bed unless for the bathroom. He likes babying you during this. It makes him feel more in control.

He almost makes it like a game. The more you protest the way he treats you, the worse he gets. He goes from baby talking to hourly cuddles to ‘keep morale high’.

He doesn’t care how far he has to go. He knows you’ll get better. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

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