#combefere's journal
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
BAU Team Plays DnD
This an idea I had while playing DnD with my siblings and some friends last week. Thereâs another for Among Us coming along.Â
Introducing the team to Dungeons and Dragons was the combined efforts of Reid and Garcia. They were very excited at the idea and were more than willing to help the others make their characters.
Garcia is well versed in DnD Beyond while Spencer uses the photocopier in the office to make more character sheets.
Rossi, JJ, and Morgan get help from Garcia with DnD Beyond.Â
Emily and Hotch decide to get help from Spencer using the player books.Â
Spencer hints that the books he bought were among some of the first purchases he made upon joining the FBI.
Spencer is DM.
Garcia, Hotch, and Emily read the four pages of Session Zero he actually typed up.
Garcia and Reid do voices for their characters
JJ and Hotch do too. Theyâre parents. They canât tell a story and not do voices.
Everyone but Morgan and Rossi refer and address each other as their charactersâ names
They try to at first but keep getting mixed up and give up.
The Jack, Henry, and Michael are set up in a different room playing video or board games with snacks of their own
Theyâre curious about the DnD game and itâs Henry that eventually asks Spencer about the game when the doctor is babysitting him and Michael at some point.
He writes a mini campaign to play with the three boys when he babysits them
#combefere's journal#read your imagines#bau team#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds headcanons#dungeons and dragons#reid and garcia friends#dungeons and dragons headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#garcia headcanon
41 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Age Doesnât Mean Much
Summary: Five times the BAU remembered Reidâs younger than them plus one time they were violently reminded heâs not a child.Â
Spoiler/Trigger Warning: The entire ending of the second seasonâs 15th episode: Revelations.Â
Dr. Spencer Reid was merely 21 when SSA Jason Gideon convinced him to join the BAU. With the exception of Aaron Hotchner (who had also read the young doctorâs file) the team wasnât sure how to feel about the inexperienced man.Â
Other than giving a pointer or two to a professor lecturing on a cold case, Reid had no experience working in the field. The others figured that was why the poor kid pushed himself so hard: to prove himself.Â
Right after the first case, Elle stopped talking down to him. Half way through the same case, Morgan decided heâd taken the doctor under his wing. JJ was the first of Hotchâs subordinates to warm up to Reid. Their friendship was an awkward one for a couple of days. To an outsider, it looked as though a childhood friend was trying to help the other through a bout of amnesia.Â
Though the team never again questioned Reidâs ability on the field, there were times when they were suddenly reminded of Reidâs age.Â
1: Trying to Balance on a Curb While Walking
Hotch lost count of how many times Jack would walk on the curb, one foot in the front of the other, both arms outstretched for extra balance. Almost always, one of Jackâs hands would be firmly holding one of his fatherâs. SSA Hotchner almost laughed at himself when he nearly held Reidâs hand on instinct.Â
Reid and Hotch were walking alone to get lunch for the unit while between cases back home. Theyâd been walking side-by-side while Reid babbled happily about the last book he finished. Hotch contently listened, his mind occasionally wondering.Â
Hotchâs mind was pulled back to reality from one of its wonderings when his hand had brushed against Reidâs. The doctorâs hand quickly formed into a fist as he concentrated on his balance, his lips pressed tightly together. While Jack had his arms stretched straight out, Reid held his at more of a slant.Â
One thing Hotch quickly noticed, and was surprised the scientifically minded doctor missed, was that Reidâs ever present satchel was throwing him off balance.Â
âReid.â
âHm?â
âLet me hold onto your bag.â Hotch held his hand out to take the leather bag.
âWhy?â Reidâs foot touched down on the road as he lost balance now that he was doing more with his brain than focussing on his footing.Â
âIt's a hypothesis.â Hotch smirked but Reid missed it, not taking his eyes off his sneakers.Â
Carefully, as not to fall, Reid removed his satchel and held it out, blindly, for Hotch to take. The older agent held it by the shorted of the two handles as he continued to walk alongside Reid.Â
Hotch chuckled to himself upon seeing the look on Reidâs face. The young doctor was looking at his feet, almost in awe. He hadnât needed to touch down since Hotch took the bag half a block back.Â
Once he walked two blocks on the curb- without losing balance- Reid was content and took his bag back, putting it back over his shoulder so the pouch of it bounced against the opposite hip.
âDid you know the position of an objectâs center of gravity affects its stability? The higher the center of gravity is, the easier it is for the object to fall. Thatâs why a small boat- like a kayak or canoe- is less likely to tip if the occupants are seated lower in the boat.Â
âTextbooks usually demonstrate this with either a bus and or two cars of different heights and lengthsâŚâÂ
2: Mismatched Socks
One of the first things Emily Prentiss noticed about Reid were his mismatched socks. Of course, the other BAU members noticed it too, but they never questioned it. Itâs just part of who Reid was. Curiosity got the better of SSA Prentiss.Â
âReid?âÂ
The doctor looked up from his case file. âYeah?â
âWhy do you never wear matched socks?â She looked down at Reidâs ankles and he followed her gaze. One lavender sock, one pink with blue stripes.Â
âMy uh- When I was a kid, my mom would tell me it was bad luck to wear matching socks.â Reid pulled the lavender sock back up to where it should be.Â
âThat doesnât sound like something that could be scientifically verified.â A slight smirk spread across Emilyâs face.Â
Reid huffed slightly. âThe night I was taken by Tobias⌠It was the first time I wore matching socks in five years. Burgundy with orange stripes.â Reid blinked heavily, clenching his eyes shut. âI donât wear socks if they match.â He paused again. âBesides, matching socks are boring. Some people say socks should be a shade darker than their pants or a shade lighter than the shoes- Hotch does the former.
âAlso, 82% of men in my age bracket wear mismatched socks at least once a week because we keep losing one of a pair. And a family of four- on average- loses 60 socks a year.âÂ
3: Playing With Jell-O
Reid loved Jell-O. No-one was really sure why, but didnât ask, either. Everyone had their favorite dessert, so maybe Jell-O was just his? He liked cake, sure, but he didnât eat it nearly as often as he ate Jell-O.Â
On jet rides back home, no-one ever knew what conversations were bound to come up. This weekâs was what the team was going to do with a three day weekend and morphed into best desserts.Â
âWhat about you, Reid?â Prentiss drew Reid from his train of thought.
âHm?â
âYou like Jell-O, donât you, Pretty Boy?â Morgan checked.
âYeah.â
âNot even Henry likes Jell-O,â JJ smiled at the thought of her young son.Â
âIt doesnât have much of a taste,â Rossi added.Â
âI think thatâs part of why I like it, actually.â Reid fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.Â
âBecause it tastes like watered down Kool-Aid?â Rossi frowned.
âYeah. All the other foods are so strong and Jell-Oâs not. Itâs cool, but not cold, and itâs fun to play with.â
A ghost of a smile danced across Hotchâs face. âJack likes playing with it. He gets sad when I donât buy finger Jell-O on accident.âÂ
âThatâs the only kind I buy.â Reid nodded. âThe red is my least favorite- It takes like Red 40.âÂ
âWhat is your favorite kind, then?â Rossi couldnât help but ask.Â
âPineapple. Minimal amounts of dyes and you can see through it.â
âNo numbers about Jell-O?â Prentiss challenged with a grin.
JJ, Hotch, and Morgan all smiled while Rossi teasily groaned. The groan got a smile from Reid too.Â
âActually, in the US, the Jell-O brand is recognized- by name and product- by 99% of the populous.â Spencer chortled. âThat means that if you got a group of 100 people together, only one person would have no idea what Jell-O is.â Â
4: Doodles on Everything
Dr. Spencer Reid didnât always carry his leather satchel with him. Hotch more or less ordered him to get a notebook he could keep in a pocket. The unit chief didnât care if Reid drew on his arms. The unit chief cared when Reid jotted down notions or points for the running case.
Garcia loved Reidâs little doodles and had a decently sized collection. She referred to him as a âchronic doodlerâ. The analysis tech found it almost funny that someone as brilliant and talented as Reid had so little artistic skill outside of his geographic profiling maps.Â
Reid knew full well that Garcia collected his doodles. After a particularly stressful case- which always resulted in more doodles, Reid would sign and dare the flip book page before tearing it out and leaving it in Garciaâs bunker.Â
There were times when Reid would doodle on his arm rather than the flip book simple because it was more convenient. That didnât mean Garcia didnât see those ones. No, no, no. These ones, Reid would take pictures of and send to Garcia when a case was getting to her.
Morgan talked to Garcia more than anyone else on a case. Whether or not Penelope voiced her unease, Morgan- ever the profiler- could tell. Heâd have Reid a certain look and the younger man would send Garcia texts of his doodles- evenly spaced- throughout the case. If he did the math and found he didnât have enough, nothing stopped him from drawing a couple more.Â
Hotch and Gideon thought of the times their sons would draw a picture or make them a card when they had a bad day at work. Morgan was reminded of the beaded bracelets his sisters used to make him when he was injured in football or his team lost a game.Â
The one hitch with their theory? Garcia was the one person who got to keep the drawings. Not even Reid kept them. She knew this fact and gloated about it to the team whenever she got a new one. All of her computer screens in her bunker had a different doodle as the screen saver.Â
5: Dependent on the Team
For the most part, the BAU stuck to themselves after hours if they werenât going out for drinks. Reid was the one exception and the rest of the team found they didnât mind.Â
JJ was the first one he texted. The message was a simple worded question: How can you tell the difference between romantic feelings and transference? The gentle blonde took it upon herself to explain to the doctor that heâd know when he was in love because how being near the person or even just thinking about them made him feel.Â
The media liaison assumed sheâd never really see the person Reid texted her about that Sunday evening. She was a little less than shocked to see the light in the young doctorâs eyes shift when Morgan wandered into the bullpen Monday morning. Â
A month passed before JJ got a message along the lines of the one she was expecting: Reid asking for advice on how to ask someone out. How to better the wording, how to keep from straying off the point.Â
The next day, he texted Elle about flowers: I have a date next weekend. Are flowers too forward?
Elle smiled down at her phone, at Reidâs innocence. She told him that flowers were a nice and caring gesture, but that heâd want to be careful with what flowers he got because different flowers sent different messages.Â
This was the first of this Reid was hearing. He thanked Elle and thought more. Hotch was married. He must know a decent amount about flowers and such romantic ideas, right? So he texted Hotch: Do you know anything about flower symbolism? Elle says flowers have different messages to them.
Hotch chuckled, getting Haleyâs attention.
âWhatâs so funny?â
âDo you remember Dr. Spencer Reid?â Hotch looked at the blonde.Â
âHeâs the shy, Autistic boy, right?â Haley glanced up from feeding Jack.
âYeah. Heâs nervous about an upcoming date and texted to see if I know anything about flowers.â Hotchâs thumb was dancing across the flip-phoneâs buttons.
âWhat are you telling him?â
âThat roses have the highest chance of getting him in his dateâs bed. Pink camellias and carnations are signs of love and longing; ivy means friendship.â Hotch typed this by naming the flowers, placing an equal sign, and the meaning.Â
âDo you know who his date is?â
âNot as far as Reid and his date are concerned.â
So yes, he did.
Friday morning- the morning before his date- Reid sat by himself on the jet ride home, trying to read a book he brought. He couldnât focus on it for the life of him. Heâd been staring at the same page for then minutes. He jumped a little when Gideon sat down across from him.
âWhat has you so nervous?â
âNoth-â Reid stopped short. That wasnât the right word; the date meant everything to him. âI uh⌠I have a date tomorrow evening and Iâm worried, I guess. Iâve never actually been on a date, but I really like this person.â
âOkay. So what about it has you worked up?â Gideonâs eyes were gentle and fatherly.
Reid thought about how to answer the question. âWeâve been friends for a while and I donât- I donât want to mess up so badly that he doesnât want to be friends-â Reid froze, his eyes wide. âG-Gideon, I-â
âThereâs nothing wrong.â The older man squeezed the youngerâs shoulder. âIf your friend know you as well as you know him, I think itâs safe to say heâs not too worried about the friendship failing. Sometimes, Reid, you have to take a leap of faith.â
+One: âI choose...Aaron Hotchner.â
âChoose, and prove youâll do Godâs will.â
âNo.â
Click. âChoose.â
âI wonât do it.â
Click. âChoose.â
âI...I choose...Aaron Hotchner. Heâs a classic narcissist. He thinks heâs better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4, âLet him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.âÂ
Bang. Raphael took a bullet from Tobaisâ pocket and held it up, showing it to Reid. âFor Godâs will.â
Morganâs heart shattered at seeing his boyfriend crouched over the body of his captor and tormentor. The side of Reidâs head was coated in dry blood, he was avoiding putting weight on his sock-less foot.
Reid limped his way over to Hotch and hesitantly put a hand on his superiorâs arm as though he wasnât sure the man was there. The young man quickly and tightly hugged Hotch.
âI knew youâd understand.â
JJ was the next to hug Reid, the doctor losing his balance slightly and the liaison easily caught him.Â
âI am so sorry.â
âIt wasnât your fault.â
The second JJ let go of Reid, Morgan stepped forward and pulled Reid into as tight of a hug as he dared. He needed to feel his boyfriend in his arms but heâd seen the same video as everyone else and didnât want to hurt him more.Â
Prentiss was shocked and looked at JJ with wide eyes when Morgan kissed Reid and the doctor eagerly reciprocated. The blonde just smiled.
*****
@stxrryspencerâ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ @the-need-for-reid-speedâÂ
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#david rossi#elle greenaway#jennifer jj jareau#jason gideon#derek morgan#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#moreid#moreid imagine
174 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Little Things
Summary:Â Derek knew fully well that moving in with Spencer was going to bring around some changes. Dr. Spencer Reid was different and Derek loved him for it. There were little quirks that the doctor showed at work and some Derek was still learning. So there must be some at home.
And a special thanks, of course, to @chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ for helping me compile this list!
1. Alphabetizing Movies by Title
âPretty Boy?â Derek was crouched down in front of their TV looking for their movie while Spencer did the dishes. The latter hadnât seen Happy Gilmore and Derek couldnât let that stand.Â
âYeah?â Spencer called from the kitchen.Â
âI canât find it?â
âWhat?â Spencer stepped away from the sink and went to the living room. Water dripped from his fingertips. âThe movies are alphabetical. Itâs between Hamlet and Ice Age.â He went to Derekâs side and gestured to the movie. âI was going to order them by director, but Hotch said most people donât know directors very well. Which is a shame because J.J. Abrams destroyed Star Trek but Guy Riche-âÂ
Derek pressed a kiss to Spencerâs lips with a fond smile. Spencer blinked.Â
âSorry,â the doctor blushed.Â
Derek just chuckled. âYou know youâre adorable, right, Pretty Boy?âÂ
âYou may have mentioned it a time or two,â Spencer laughed.Â
âYou can tell me all about directors later,â Derek promised. âI know a bit about the mainstream guys, but not a whole lot.â
âAll you really need to know is that J.J. Abrams kills anything he touches and Peter Jackson doesnât get as much attention as he should.â
*****
2. Morning Rituals
One thing that Derek very quickly learned about Spencer was that heÂ
had a specifically timed morning ritual when not on a case. And that if it was broken or disturbed, the whole rest of the day would go down hill like a train on greased tracks.Â
He woke up at 6:17, was in the shower by 6:25, eating breakfast by 7:00, his bed made by 7:30, and shoes on his feet by 7:32. The last half hour before they left at 8:00 was free game.Â
The first morning in their new place was the roughest. Spencer wentÂ
about his usual morning, but Derek didnât usually wake up until 7:45 because he took less time to get ready and ate in the car. So when Spencer finished breakfast and went back to their room to make the bed but Derek was still asleep⌠He paced for the next fifteen minutes and his head nearly went through the ceiling when Derekâs alarm went off.Â
Spencer almost had a panic attack as he fumbled his way through making their bed and cramming his feet into his shoes. Needless to say, the extra half hour was spent- in vain- trying to calm the doctor down. None of the rest of the day lined up properly and Spencer was on edge and fidgety. Hotch even had to gently remind him to focus a few more times than the usual redirection of infodumps.Â
That was the first and only time Derek didnât follow Spencerâs morning routine. He found the same day that Spencer had a much simpler night ritual: Snack (sometimes) at 10:10, teeth brushed by 10:25, in bed by 10:35, reading until (supposed to be) 11:18, and then lights out. This routine was much more flexible and relaxed.
Derek found waking up and going to bed at the same time every day made the former much easier. He also found that Spencer reading to him most nights- no matter the book or topic- was very relaxing. And of course there were nights when Derek read to Spencer.
*****
3. Sugary Coffee
Derek took a sip of coffee from his travel cup and whistled. âThink I got yours, Pretty Boy. Thereâs enough sugar in this to hype up a six year oldâs birthday party.âÂ
Spencer braced himself and took a sip of the coffee in his own cup. He was pleasantly relieved when the bitterly sharp taste expected never came. âI-I put sugar in both of them. I wasnât thinking,â he said sheepishly.Â
Derek shrugged. âYou know what they say: Iâll try anything once.â He chuckled. âIâll just brush my teeth for an extra three minutes.âÂ
Spencer scoffed as he got into the passenger seat of Derekâs car. âWho knows? Maybe youâll like it. You donât get the caffeine drop when the eight hour half-life is over.âÂ
âIs that why you put so much sugar in coffee?â Derek raised an eyebrow, thinking he already knew the answer.Â
âAnd coffee tastes like battery acid. Iâd rather drink vinegar than black coffee.â Spencer shuddered.Â
Derek chuckled but didnât say anything else as he pulled onto the street.
*****
4. Cuddly Sleeper
Even though Spencer wasnât huge on PDA like Derek was, he sure was a cuddly guy. The second the door closed, he was a six foot koala. That included in bed- but usually not until after he was asleep.Â
Some nights, Spencer would fall asleep reading. So Derek would take his book, close it, gently remove Spencerâs glasses, and turn out the lamp. Nine times out of ten, Spencer was curled up against his side before Derek was asleep himself.Â
At first, Derek found himself wondering why Spencer wasnât nestled against him before sleep took him. But after a while, it sunk in that the doctor unwound by reading.Â
The look on Spencerâs face when he curled into Derekâs side always sent the older man over the moon. The absolute peace on the doctorâs face. One night, Derek almost woke Spencer up laughing. Derek rolled over to out the lamp and Spencer had gripped Derekâs arm tighter and whined in his sleep. Derek then had to assure his boyfriend- in soft whispers as to not actually wake him up- that he wasnât going anywhere.Â
Spencer never thought to question why his book and glasses were gone when he woke up.
*****
5. Leaves Books Everywhere
Anyone who had a 30 second conversation with Spencer- anyone who glanced at Spencer- could tell the man read more than he did anything else.Â
Derek picked up the doctorâs satchel once and was moderately surprised the slim man hadnât dislocated his shoulder with how heavy the bag was. But Spencer didnât only keep books in his bag. No. They were all over the place.Â
Their bedroom, the craft room where Derek made floor plans for his renovations, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. Even both bathrooms and the basement.Â
When the two first moved in together, Derek debated building an extension onto the living room for a library. He still debated it from time to time (just in case). But as time wore on, Derek grew to appreciate the countless (if seemingly random) books around the house.Â
Spencer would read when Derek was working on floorplans, so Derek would read when Spencer worked on an academic paper or consult.Â
âWhatâre you reading?â Spencer asked one night, finally looking up from his notebook. He was writing an essay on how handwriting analysis could help catch a serial killer and/or rapist.Â
âI donât even know,â Derek chortled. âUh..â he looked at the cover, âitâs Introduction to Law by Joanne Banker and Yvonne Ekern.âÂ
âOh! Hotch loaned that to me yesterday,â Spencer noted. âI should get that back to him soon.âÂ
Derek just shook his head. âYou know, Pretty Boy, I didnât read this much in college.â
Spencer smiled. âSee? Maybe thereâs a good side to not spending thousands of dollars on building a library,â he teased.
6. The Nightlight
In the bedroom, in the outlet closest to the door was a nightlight. But not just any night light. This nightlight made the move in the front pocket of Spencerâs satchel.Â
âSo whatâs the story behind this platypus, Pretty Boy?â Derek had to ask one night as Spencer turned it on. âBecause youâve had this since before we were dating.âÂ
âMy uh- my momâs went on a sort of field trip with her hospital a couple years ago. It was on one of her good days. She saw this in the aquariumâs gift shop and bought it for me.â
âThatâs pretty cute,â Derek encouraged. He knew Spencer didnât open up about his mom often so Derek tried to learn everything he could about the woman during the rare occurrences.Â
âWe named him,â Spencer laughed. âAlfred Nicholas Brian Reid.â He giggled. âI just⌠He helps.â
*****
+1. Bleeding/Infected Hangnails
Spencer usually had something to stim or fidget with. A strip of paper, a pen or pencil to twirl, a shirt with a loose thread, something. On the off chance that he didnât, the doctor somehow decided that his fingers were good enough. If Spencer didnât have a hangnail, heâd start one.Â
This was the one and only thing about Doctor Spencer Reid that Derek Morgan hated. He could see the minute flinch when Spencer held a utensil wrong and it pressed on the swollen skin. He heard the soft hiss when Spencer got tomato or orange juice in the broken skin.Â
What Derek hated even more than that was when the hangnail would get infected. The skin around the nail or turn a greenish-yellow and harden. Which, in turn, gave Spencer another thing to pick at.Â
âPretty Boy, you gotta stop,â Derek sighed. Heâd gone into a convenience store to get them something other than coffee- but tastier than water- to drink. While inside, he bought a box of Band-Aids and a tube of anti-bacterial cream.Â
Spencer snapped out of his daze. âWhat?â
âPicking at your nails.â To prove his point, Derek took Spencerâs hand in his to show him, as well as to stop his current picking. âI know youâre worried about the case, Baby, but weâll catch the son of a bitch and put his ass behind bars like we always do. You gotta stop destroying your hands.â
âI didnât realize I was,â he admitted.Â
âI know,â Derek said softly. He applied the cream and a Band-Aid to each finger that needed it (five in total between both hands). âWe just gotta get you a couple of those fidget cubes Garcia has.â
Tag List: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfoodâ
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#criminal minds imagine#moreid imagine#spencer reid imagine#derek morgan imagine#5+1 things#6+1 things#moreid#moreid fluff
48 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Punchline Takes a Hit (PT 1)
Summary: Hotch tells the team a joke for Jack and Spencer doesnât get it right away. When he finally does, his ridiculous laughter awakens feelings Morgan didnât know he had.Â
Hotch came out of his office and entered the bullpen. âI almost forgot that Jack told me a joke this morning and wanted me to tell it to you all. What has two butts and kills people?âÂ
Elle and Morgan looked at each other, running possible answers through their minds. Hitman; no. Sadist; no.Â
âAn assassin,â Hotch chuckled.Â
Morgan and Elle laughed. âWhereâd he hear that?â Morgan wondered.Â
âSomeone at school heard it from their brother,â Hotch shrugged. âHe was proud that he got me with it.âÂ
The three looked at Reid who was still contemplating the joke. His brow was furrowed, his eyes seemingly staring at the floor but not focussing. Assassin?
âReid?â Hotch questioned.Â
âI-I donâtâŚâ he shook his head with a frown.
âYouâll figure it out,â Morgan reassured. âA hint: donât overthink it.âÂ
Hotch chuckled again at the perplexed look on the youngest agentâs face and went back to his office.Â
Reid got a fresh cup of coffee and sat back down. On a scrap of paper, he wrote the jokeâs question and the punchline under it. Writing out the punchline was what got the joke through to him.Â
The young doctor clamped a hand over his mouth, giggling. His eyes were clenched shut as he laughed. The two co-workers sitting around him shared a look.Â
âYou good, Pretty Boy?â Morgan chortled.Â
âYou just got the joke, didnât you?â Elle sighed.Â
Reid finally managed to swallow his mouthful of coffee and burst out laughing. He nodded in answer to Elleâs question. Hotch could hear Reidâs laughter from his office and couldnât help laugh. The young genius could pinpoint where the unsub lived based on his handwriting in moments yet it took minutes for him to understand a simple quip.Â
Elle spared Morgan a look, her smile softening when she noticed a different light behind the manâs eyes as he watched Reid trying to contain his laughter.Â
After a few moments, Reid managed to calm himself but was left with the hiccups. Everytime Reid hiccupped, Morgan would chuckle. At first, she thought it amusing. Now though? Five minutes later? It was driving her insane.Â
The brunette ventured into the breakroom and thrust a cold bottle of water into Reidâs hands when she came back.
*****
JJ and Reid were talking in the breakroom later in the afternoon.Â
âDid you hear the joke Hotch told earlier?â Reid giggled at the thought of the joke.
âNo. What was it?â JJ grinned at her child-like friend.
Reid managed to tell the joke- a smile constantly on his face and through giggles.Â
âWant some Tums for those butterflies, lover-boy?â Elle teased suddenly, making Morgan jump.Â
âJesus, Elle!â Morgan hissed from where he sat at his desk.Â
âYouâre gonna talk to him, right?â
âI talk to him all the time,â Morgan shrugged, trying to dismiss the womanâs teasing.Â
Elle gave him an incredulous look.Â
âI- No. Not about this.â
âWhy not? Thereâs nothing in the books saying agents canât date.â Elle crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the toe of her shoe waiting for an answer.Â
âI...Itâs not a smart move.âÂ
âNot a smart move?â Elle scoffed. âItâs one of the smartest moves you could make.â
âWhat move?â Reid wondered as he and JJ appeared in the doorway.Â
âPulling his head out of his ass long enough to breath,â Elle covered, ignoring Morganâs galre.Â
Reidâs brow furrowed again in confusion, but he dismissed it and headed back to his desk to finish the consult he was working on.Â
âButterflies?â JJ looked between the two profilers with a knowing smirk.Â
âDoes everyone know?â Morgan threw his arms up.Â
âIâm not a profiler and I know, so probably.â JJ shrugged.Â
Morgan glanced at Reid with wide eyes, silently asking the two women if Reid might know as well. The women glanced at Reid. âNo,â they answered at the same time.Â
âIâll give Garcia a heads up that youâre gonna want to talk to her for date ideas.â JJ beamed and left with a bounce in her step.
*****
âPretty Boy.â Morgan caught Reidâs elbow as the younger agent pressed the down button for the elevator.Â
Spencer looked at Morgan with widened eyes, shock evident in them. âYeah?âÂ
âWanna get some coffee thatâs supposed to be sweet without rotting your teeth?â Morgan offered. âMy treat.âÂ
âOh. Sure,â Reid smiled. âThe coffee they have here isnât good enough?â he teased.Â
âDo you see the ability to steam milk?â Morgan smirked.Â
âFair point. But if you want frothy milk, itâs not hard to do. I mean, you could buy a hand-held frother- they donât cost much. Or if you have a jar- like a canning jar- then you fill it a third of the way and shake it like crazy until the milk doubles in size. It only takes about a minute, actually,â Reid explained.Â
As the two got into the elevator, Reid missed the thumbs up JJ and Garcia were sending Morganâs way with wide smiles.Â
âYou donât usually drink coffee after four unless we have a case. What changed?â Reidâs question pulled Morganâs wandering mind back to the present.Â
âUh...itâs just one of those cooler fall days, you know? Gets ya in the mood for warmer drinks.âÂ
âHave you had spiced cider?â Reid asked, excitement in his eyes. âMy favorite coffee house only has it from October first to December 31.âÂ
âYou never really struck me as a cider kinda guy,â Morgan noted.Â
âIt has to be real cider. The stuff they sell at the store isnât worth the money. Itâs just over priced, juice made from crab apples- not really crab apples, but itâs sour enough to be. It has to be real cider,â Reid explained.Â
âIf you like cider so much, have you had hard cider?âÂ
âI donât drink,â Reid shook his head. âI like the usage of my frontal lobe and liver too much. Not to mention what it does to your kidneys and blood- Alcohol is just back for you. Some people swear that a glass of red wine is good for at the end of the day, but more current studies are finding that itâs not because it kicks your liver into hyper drive right before you lay down to go to bed so it actually keeps you up.âÂ
Morgan chuckled at Reidâs info-dumping. A lot of people found it annoying, but Morgan saw the truth behind it. The more the kid trusted you, the more he info-dumped. He wasnât huge on physical touch from others- he, JJ, and Garcia were working on that- so he showed he cared by sharing his infinite knowledge with you.Â
âSorry.â Reid tugged the cuffs of his cardigan over his palms and fisted his hands. âI was rambling.âÂ
âItâs all good. I knew people thought wine could help disease- my aunt swears by it- but I didnât know they were disproving it. Iâll have to send her some of those sources of yours, huh?âÂ
âI can forward them to you tomorrow,â Reid nodded.
*****
Reid got up from their table to get them refills. Theyâd been chatting and working on a jigsaw puzzle at the back of the coffee house. Morgan sent a quick text to JJ.Â
âI donât think he knows I asked him out.âÂ
JJ giggled as she replied. âSo tell him you asked out. You know Spence. You have to be painfully clear.âÂ
Reid sat back on the couch, handing Morgan one of the cups of spiced cider. âDo we have a case?âÂ
âNah. Just JJ texting to see whatâs up,â Morgan shrugged. He couldnât help but admire Spencer. The younger man went right back to the puzzle, the awkward air floating miles above his head.
**********
@mayonnaiseismycomfortfoodâ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ
#combefere's journal#read your imagines#moreid#moreid imagine#spencer reid imagine#derek morgan imagine#Aaron Hotch Hotchner#jack hotchner#jj jareau#penelope garcia#elle greenaway#spencer reid#derek reid
83 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Hands of a Doctor
Summary: A character study of Reid via his hands through Morganâs eyes.Â
Trigger Warnings: None
Piano-player hands. Thatâs how his mom would describe the doctorâs hands. But as far as Morgan knew, Reid didnât play piano. Or any instrument. Just because the doctor didnât play piano didnât mean there werenât uses for such talented hands.Â
Morgan couldnât help but watch Reidâs hands as he wrote. Heâd never seen anyone else hold a pencil how he did. The pencil was a bit shorter now. The length of a pen now. His thumb rested under the green and yellow metal holding the heavily used errasser. The tip of the pencil was balanced between his middle and ring fingers.Â
The hand he wasnât holding the pencil with would occasionally reach up to tuck the strand of hair behind his left ear when it slid down in front of his eyes. The same hand would return to the bottom left corner of the page.Â
Morgan looked away when Reidâs head shot up and he pushed the mass of his hair back, the pencil over his thumb and pinky but under his three fingers. The doctor tapped the spacebar on his keyboard before his eyes danced over the screen and he went back to the notes.Â
*****
It wasnât uncommon for Reid to get coffee for himself and whoever he was sent to do his part with. Reid and Morgan were sometimes sent to check out a victimâs home together. It was very rare Morgan was instructed to stay back with Reid to work on the victimology. It was usually JJ or Prentiss who stayed and helped the doctor.Â
Yet, like JJ and Prentiss told Morgan, Reid strolled into the room where theyâd be working with a folder under one arm, two to-go cups of coffee on top of eachother in the other hand.Â
Reidâs left hand was stretched so he could walk without worrying about dropping either cup. The doctor stopped next to Morgan and slowly extended his hand. âTop oneâs yours.âÂ
âThanks, Pretty Boy.â Morgan carefully took the top cup, but Reid didnât seem worried. His pinky and ring finger tightened around the bottom of the cup, the flesh under his weirdly short fingernails going white from the pressure.Â
The doctor took a sip of his own coffee before placing it on the table and turning to the dry erase board.
âReid?â Morgan watched the younger man uncap the Expo marker. The doctor hummed as he started on the map for his geographical profile. âWhy are your nails so short, man?â
Reid shrugged and went back to the board. âI chew my nails. Nervous tic I picked up at 15. I never really give them the chance to get long enough to trim.â
âYou ever wanna stop?â Morgan sat himself on the table, watching Reid work.
âItâs not hurting me,â Reid dismissed. âIf it was, Iâd redirect.â
Morgan wasnât 100% sure what that meant- redirect. He figured it was something to do with the Autistic stims Reid felt he had to mask that Hotch told him about. But Hotch wasnât the only one who put the pieces together and did their homework.
*****
The odd little sculptures- if one could call them that- was another thing. Morgan couldnât stop himself from watching Reid make them. The young doctor would sit in the back, quietly, during their group debates and make odd figures with whatever was laying around. If he didnât have anything in his pockets, then heâd play with his handcuffs.Â
Playing with his handcuffs was something Hotch tried talking to Spencer about. âTheyâre to help us apprehend an unsub, not reverse engineer.â That talk happened after the second time Spencer locked his left wrist in the cuff.Â
The first time, he tried picking it without drawing attention to himself. After three minutes of pretending not to notice, Morgan unlocked the cuff and patted the heavily blushing doctor twice on the head without a word.
But the sculptures Reid made⌠Heâd give them- randomly- to members of the team. Garcia had two in her collection of happiness reminders. Hotch had three in various places around his office. JJ had two, Elle had one or two, Gideon had two or three. Morgan himself four: two on his desk, and the other two were in his apartment.Â
*****
Reid holding a gun was something of a foreign concept and one Morgan had mixed feelings about. The older SSA knew Reid could use one. Everyone in the BAU knew that. Theyâd seen how deadly the doctorâs aim was when it needed to be. First with Dowd, then again with Hankle.Â
Reid was careful: he held the pistol with steady hands, and his hands were unwavering as they took aim. Even with the pain (mental and physical) of being kicked by Hotch as he yelled; even with the pain of beatings and drugs in his veins, Reidâs aim was deadly.Â
But that was Dr. Spencer Reid. One person- one kid- being so different while being the same person. Author and essayist; coffee guzzling, Autistic, and superstitious, profiler, sculptor, and doctor.
**********
@chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ @stxrryspencerâ @the-need-for-reid-speedâ @prettyboy-reidâ @reidecoratingâ
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#pre slash#moreid#moreid imagine#derek morgan#spencer reid#penelope garcia#elle greenaway#jason gideon
130 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Possible Story Idea. Take a vote.
Were I to write an alternative ending for Dead Poets Society in which Neil Perry doesnât die, how many of your would read it?Â
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#dead poets society#neil perry fanfiction#neil perry doesn't die#dead poets society fanfic#robert sean leonard#robin williams#ethan hawke
20 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Reidâs Allergies
This was an idea @chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ and I came up with. The summary is exactly what it says on the tin. Let me know what you think and donât be afraid to make a request. Also! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for any or all fandoms.Â
Side note: The raw honey remedy Rossi gives Reid isnât nonsense. My uncle was a holistic nutritionist and taught my sisters and I this trick.Â
No-one in the BAU was shocked to learn the young Dr. Reid had horrible seasonal allergies. Upon his first year at the BAU, the Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, thought the poor boy was ill.Â
The youngest agent continuously had a tissue, wrapped around his forefinger, pressed under his nose whenever he had to look down. Reid sniffled almost constantly and sneezed every few minutes. After the third sneezing fit, Hotch decided enough was enough.Â
âReid,â he called from the rail above the bullpen, âmy office, please.â
Reid was up on his feet, going to his bossâs office and sat when gestured to. He sneezed and wiped his nose with the tissue. âWhatâs up?â
âYou can stay home when youâre ill, Reid. Thatâs why you have sick days,â Hotch explained. Gideon had joked about them having to tell Reid about what a vacation was, but he didnât think heâd need to tell the boy about sick days.Â
Reid shook his head. âIâm not-â he sneezed, âsick. Itâs just allergies. My meds just havenât kicked in yet.â The doctor sniffled. âIt only takes about a week for antihistamines to work their way into the system.â
âWhen did you start taking them?â Hotch studied Reid.Â
âMonday.âÂ
It was Wednesday. âReid, go home. Catch up on sleep.âÂ
âHotch, Iâm really-â sneeze, â-okay.â
The unit chief sighed. âThat wasnât a question. Go get some rest; play tomorrow by ear. If you arenât as snuffly, come on back.â
Reid grabbed his satchel and begrudgingly waved to Morgan on his way out.
---
When Reid went back to work the next morning- very early morning seeing as they had a case, he was still just as stuffy-nosed as before. Hotch very nearly sent the boy home.Â
Reid was comparing handwriting samples when his nose started to run. He was about to run the cuff of his shirt under his nose when there was suddenly a tissue in his hand.Â
He looked at Morgan, who was slipping a plastic sleeve of tissues into his pocket, for a few seconds before he sneezed into this tissue. From then on, Morgan made it a habit to carry tissues with him in case the kid might need them.
II
JJ was in Quantico with Garcia while the rest of the BAU was off helping police in Montana with a missing personâs case. Garcia usually preferred tea after 3:30 in the afternoon. Whenever she started up her electric kettle, she always offered whoever was within earshot if they wanted tea, too. That day, it happened to be JJ.
âIâm going to rinse out my mug. The second drawer to the left- the bottom one- is full of tea. Take your pick.â Garcia ducked out of the room. Â
The Tech Analysis wasnât kidding when she said the drawer was full of tea. Earl Gray, mint, Lady Gray, a couple of herbal seasonal teas. And a sinus relief tea.Â
Garcia re-entered her office only to find a rather concerned JJ.Â
âAre you coming down with something, Garcia?â the blonde inquired.Â
âWhat? No.â Realization dawned on her when she saw the Yugi box in the Media Liaisonâs hand. âOh! Thatâs for Reid when his allergies act out. When his allergies are bad, I cut him off after two cups of coffee, but he can have as much Gateriad, water, and tea- herbal tea- as his little doctoral heart desires.
III
When Reid came to work sniffly and red-eyed, Prentiss felt worry for the young doctor. Why didnât he stay home if he was feeling so poorly?
Garcia came bustling in next and Emily caught up with her. âHey, Garcia? Does Reid look kinda ill to you?â
âWatery eyes? Sniffling every five seconds?â Garcia was already headed back to her bunker, determination in her step.Â
âYeahâŚâ
The blonde shook her head. âHeâs early this year.âÂ
âWhat?â Emily followed after her.Â
âHis allergies are awful. Theyâre always worse in the fall.â Garcia turned on her electric kettle and got a Dr. Who mug from her tea drawer.Â
âDoes he take meds for it?â Emily wondered. âMy allergies were bad in college and I took an over the counter pill; they were manageable.âÂ
âNo,â Garcia sighed. âHe used to, but now he wonât take anything that isnât prescription and he refuses to go to the hospital unless Hotch makes him- and allergies arenât deadly or contagious, thereâs nothing Hotch can do. Anyway, we help our good doctor teas and endless tissues. Morgan always has tissues for him and JJ has tea in her go-bag.â
---
When Emily went to the store after work, she was sure to buy tissues in the plastic sleeves. She was loaded with the little things. Her blazer pocket, pants pocket, purse, go-bag, and the glove box of her car.Â
So Reid was shocked when, the next day when they were at a crime scene, he sneezed and there was a tissue in front of his face when he opened his eyes and the hand wasnât Morganâs.
âOh. Thanks.â He took the tissue and Emily merely nodded.
IV
Rossi had been on the team for a few weeks before he witnessed one of Spencerâs allergy bouts. He couldnât help but pity the young man. After all, heâd had godforsaken seasonal allergies when he was a teen.Â
One day, Reid stepped into the bullpen and saw a jar of honey on his desk- comb and all. Beside the jaw was a note in Rossiâs neat scrawl. It read: Eat half an inch of honey comb twice a day, use the honey in tea or on food. Give two weeks and youâll never suffer from allergies again. -David Rossi.
Reid smiled to himself and picked up the jar. He opened it and broke off the suggested amount, squishing it lightly between his forefinger and thumb, debating if heâd be able to stomach the texture. He came to the conclusion that never having to deal with allergies again- even the possibility of it- was worth an off-putting texture.Â
Morgan was the first to notice the youngest agent stopped putting half a cup of sugar in his coffee and instead opted for three tablespoons of honey. âTrying a new flavor, Pretty Boy?â Morgan asked when he spotted Reid putting the jar of honey back in his desk drawer.Â
âItâs a home remedy suggestion from a friend. The honeyâs sweeter, so it takes less- to mention the health benefits. Honey has four properties that kill bacteria and because this jar I have is wild honey, it has trace amounts of pollen. Thatâs why it might help my allergies- itâs like an edible vaccine.â
Tag list: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfoodâ
#combefere's journal#read your imagines#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#criminal minds#crimainl minds imagine#emily prentiss#david rossi#aaron hotchner#jj jareau#derek morgan#penelope garcia
56 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The One Time Reid Didnât Know What Anything Meant
âMy cousin sent me a game for my birthday.â Elle held up a black and white, rectangular box. âI thought it might be a fun cool down.â
âWhatâs the game?â Hotch looked up from his case file.Â
âCards Against Humanity,â Reid read, leaning forward to see the writing better. âA horrible game for horrible people.â
âItâs a fun play, Hotch,â Morgan vowed.
âIt really is,â JJ grinned, a rare glint in her blue eyes. âShould be interesting with Spence playing.âÂ
âHow do you play?â Reidâs brow furrowed. âCan I read the instructions?âÂ
âHave you ever played Apples to Apples?â Morgan asked while Elle opened the boc and got the instruction pamphlet for Reid.Â
âNever heard of it.â Reid opened the pamphlet, his eyes flying over the words at a seemingly impossible speed. âSeems easy enough.â He handed the glassy paper back to Elle.Â
Elle and JJ already set to shuffling the cards. Hotch closed his file and moved to sit with the others. Placing a hand on Morganâs forearm, Reid turned to the back of the jet where Gideon sat, wrapped up in his own mind.
âGideon?â
âHm.â The eldest member of the BAU looked to the youngest.Â
âAre you playing?â
âThatâs alright,â Gideon gently dismissed. âIâll stick to chess.â
Reid frowned but nodded and turned back to the table where Elle was now dealing the cards.
âI felt, so Hotch starts.â Elle read through her cards as everyone did the same.
âWait.â Reidâs frown was deeper now. âWhatâs a flesh-â
âWoah. Woah. Show me. Pretty Boy,â Morgan interrupted his boyfriend. He read the card Reid held out to him. âYou really donât know what this is?âÂ
âShould I? It has light in. Itâs not- I didnât read anything about this at MIT.â Reid combed the back of his mind for the information but came up blank.Â
Elle, JJ, and even Hotch shared a look. Reid saw it but didnât understand what it meant. Morgan sighed but leaned over and whispered the meaning in the younger profilerâs ear, whose frown deepened with every word.Â
âWhy does-â
âYou donât wanna know.â Morgan shook his head.Â
Hotch wondered, very briefly, if he should put a stop to the game for the youngestâs sake. Reid was 24⌠Heâd seen worse in the field. The kid would be fineâŚ
âOkay.â Hotch drew a black prompt card and read, âHere is the church, here is the steeple. Open the doors and there isâŚâ
*****
âShould we really be letting Morgan judge?â Elle asked when it was the man in questionâs turn to read a black card, his hand already on the pile.Â
âWhy not?â Reid held out another card- the one he just drew- for Morgan to see.Â
âAre you saying Iâd cheat?â Morgan scoffed and whispered the meaning of the new card in Reidâs ear. âMight be fun.
Reid looked at Morgan like he was insane and quickly shook his head, turning back to his cards. The interaction drew a small smile across Hotchâs face.
JJ giggled at Reid basically sitting in Morganâs lap so the latter could see the youngerâs cards. Reid wasnât huge on PDA- unlike Morgan whoâd get away with as much of it as possible if Reid was more comfortable with it. This was as close as the two had gotten in a while.Â
âHotch, tie break,â Morgan prompted.Â
Aaron considered for a few seconds. âWeâll let you judge first the next time we play.â
Morganâs only reply was a petty huff- good naturedly.Â
A look of realization suddenly crossed Reidâs face.
âWhat is it?â Hotch didnât know whether to be concerned or entertained.Â
âThanks to my Eidetic memory, these words will be seared to the inside of my brain until I die.â Reidâs confusion grew as his teammates laughed around him, even Gideon was chuckling in the back.Â
âYouâll be okay, Reid,â Elle promised.
*****
By the time the group had ten minutes left until the landing, Hotch was the only one playing who wasnât whispering. Elle and JJ had taken to giggling over how cute the two dating profilers were. Some of the cards had Reid scoffing and giggling until Morgan whispered something that made him blush if he hadnât been blushing already. Hotch wondered if Reid was lightheaded at any point from all the blood going to his face.Â
âYou really knew so few of these cards, Reid?â Elle didnât try to hide her smile.Â
âI didnât have a normal college experience,â Reid pointed out. âI didnât have a lot of friends to play this sort of game with.â He laid down his white answer card. âAnd I donât read a lot of modern booksâŚâ
âWait, wait. Have you seen the movie Accepted?â Morgan asked quickly.
âI love that movie!â JJ gushed.Â
âI donât know what theyâre talking about, either, Reid,â Hotch reassured.Â
Reid adjusted how he was sitting and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear to hide the slight flutter of his index and middle fingers against each other.Â
âElle, you're judge,â Morgan reminded.  Â
You really know so few of these cards, Reid? Elleâs voice played over in his head and it took every ounce of will in his body to stop his leg from bouncing a mile a minute.Â
The others ignored- or rather pretended not to see- the nervous tics of their teamâs youngest member and redirected the attention of the game from him.
*****
That night, Spencer and Derek laid in bed, the younger wrapped safely in the darkerâs arms. Spencer knew Derek was awake and Derek knew Spencerâs thoughts were keeping him up.Â
Derek snuggled closer to Spencer, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then where his shoulder met his neck, and lastly where his neck met his chin. The latter two placements made the doctor squirm slightly and the SSA smirk.Â
âWhatâs that brain of yours thinking, Pretty Boy?â
âWas I annoying today?â Spencer rolled over in Derekâs arms so they were facing each other, their noses almost touching.Â
âWhat makes you think you were annoying?â It was Derekâs turn to frown.Â
âJust, I-I always⌠I kept-â
âTake your time,â Derek chuckled.Â
âI kept asking what every other card meant. Everyone else knew what they meant.â Spencerâs fingers started fidgeting with the hem of his tank top.
âYouâre allowed to know stuff, ya know? Just because everyone says youâre a computer doesnât mean you are. I mean, look at how many times a day we ask you for facts or statistics.âÂ
âBut that stuff matters. Itâs saved people.âÂ
âAnd you really think playing that game didnât matter?â Derek kissed Spencerâs forehead. âPlaying the game was fun. De-stressing and having fun is just as important as the job. At the very least, it was an excuse to sit really close to you in front of the team without you being jumpy.âÂ
Spencer blushed and Derek chortled. âDidnât occur to you before now, did it?â Derek knew it hadnât, but he had to tease his boyfriend. âYou are too damn cute for your own good when you blush.âÂ
Spencer nuzzled his nose against Derekâs neck, hiding his face and making the darker skinned man chuckle again.Â
âFeeling better, Pretty Boy?â Derek gently ran his hand through Spencerâs hair, twirling a strand around the tip of his index finger. The touches to Spencerâs hair were soft- breathes- because of how sensitive the doctorâs scalp was.Â
âMuch. Thank you.â His voice was muffled.Â
âThink you can sleep now?â
The answer to Derekâs question came in the form of a tickling nod and Spencer snuggling closer.
**********
Special thanks to: @stxrryspencerâ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ @prettyboy-reidâ and @reidecoratingâ
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#reid x morgan#spencer reid#derek morgan#aaron hotch hotchner#jennifer jj jareau#reid x morgan imagine#spencer reid imagine#derek morgan imagine
124 notes
¡
View notes
Note
something a little angsty at the begining and then pure fluff how do it sounds? :) for which character do you write for ? from both night at the museum 1 and 2
I havenât thought about individual characters. If thereâs someone I left off the list and youâre curious about them, just let me know.
Ahkmenrah
Larry
Teddy RooseveltÂ
Sacajawea
Amelia Earhart
OctaviusÂ
JedidiahÂ
I can attempt AhmenrahÂ
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Hanahaki
Fandom: Merlin
Ship: Gwaine/Percival
This short one-shot was part of a deal I made with @dollophead-merlinâ. Iâm proud of all your hard work, and I hope you enjoy this, my friend!Â
Summary:Â Hanahaki: A fictional disease causing someone suffering from unrequited love to cough up flower petals as their lungs grow flowers. If the love is unreturned for long enough, the flowers make breathing impossible.
Percival didnât get sick often, but when he did, the illness usually had him laid up in bed for as long as two weeks. This time was a little different. So when he stumbled into Gaiusâs chambers with a hacking cough, Merlin grew worried.Â
âAre you okay?â Merlin rushed up from the table where he was sitting and the gentle giant to sit down on the patientsâ cot.Â
âI canât-â Percival broke out coughing again. When the coughing subsided, the knight opened his hand and frowned at the flower petal in his palm. âWhatâŚâ
âIâll find Gaius,â Merlin offered. âHeâll know whatâs wrong and what to do. Iâll be back soon.â He patted the manâs shoulder and tore out of the room at a dead sprint.
*****
Gaius sat back from listening to Percivalâs breathing with a furrowed brow and a frown.Â
âWhat is it?â Merlin asked.Â
âItâs a very rare disease,â Gaius sighed. âHanahaki, they call it. Thereâs only one cure for it, and it isnât always a guarantee.âÂ
âWell what is it?â Merlin asked. âIâll-â
âYou canât.â Percival hung his head.Â
âWhat are you talking about?â Merlin looked between the two. âWhat does Hanahaki do?âÂ
âIt causes flowers to grow in the lungs until the love isnât unrequited anymore,â Gaius answered when Percival didnât open his mouth. âThe only one who can stop the disease is the one whoâs love Percivalâs heart desires.â
âThatâs why the cure isnât guaranteed⌠But-but youâre in love with Gwaine, arenât you?â
âYes,â Percival whispered.Â
âBut he loves you as well- I know he does. He can cure you.âÂ
âHe doesnât, Merlin,â Percival offered a small smile. âYouâve seen the way he flirts with women. Heâd have no interest in someone like me.âÂ
âFlirting is just words,â Merlin protested.Â
âYou musn't say a word of this to him, Merlin,â the knight begged. âHeâll blame himself and my death is not something he needs on his conscience.â
*****
A week went by and Percivalâs breathing became shallower by the day. There wasnât an hour when the man wasnât light headed from lack of oxygen. He found himself wishing he had the strength to pick up a knife and end everything rather than slowly wasting away. He wasnât even coughing anymore.Â
Each member of the round table would come to Gaiusâs chambers and visit with the man daily. Arthur would come and pray for him to get better, Gwaine would swear at the sight of his best friend so ill. But Gwaine was determined to find a cure for his friend. He had been told the story about Merlinâs life having been saved from a poison with a simple- yet rare flower. If he had to go to the ends of the Earth for some herb, heâd do it.
*****
âItâs not that kind of illness.â Merlin shook his head while polishing Arthurâs sword in the armory. âThere is a cure, but itâs said to be an unlikely one.âÂ
âWell what is?â Gwaine threw the dagger he was sharpening on the floor, making Merlin jump- almost cutting his hand on the blade in his own hands. âMerlin, please. If you know it, tell me. I have to try something. My best friend is dying and I canât sit by and watch any longer when thereâs something I could be doing.âÂ
âHe requested I not you. If the cure doesnât work, he doesnât want you to feel guilty.â
âThen at least I tried and I didnât let my friend die without a chance.â
Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair. The long haired knight had a solid point. Even if the cure wasnât within reach, Gwaine deserved to know and Percival deserved the chance.Â
And so, with a gentle tone and deliberate word choices, Merlin told Gwaine the truth. How someone falls ill to the disease, how and why it kills, how it can be cured. As Merlin finished the explanation, as though the fates aligned, Gwen burst through the door. Â
âGwen-â
âItâs Percival. Gaius says heâll be dead within the hour.âÂ
Merlin and Gwaine bolted up and followed Gwen out of the armoury and back to Gaiusâs chambers. When they entered the room, Gwaine sat on the side of Percivalâs cot and took the other manâs larger hand in his own, holding it tightly.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Gwaine begged, tears threatening to spill. âYou oaf. Why didnât you say a word of this to me?â
All Percival could do was shake his head, and even that simple action seemed to cause him pain in some manner. His breaths were now short wheezes that could be heard from across without straining oneâs ears.Â
Gwaine rested his forehead on Percivalâs. âDonât go,â he whispered. âI do love you. I do. Just donât leave me. Please.âÂ
Percivalâs breathing slowed and quieted. Everyone in the room knew what was coming. The slow rise and fall of Percivalâs chest stopped and a feral sob tore from Gwaineâs throat and the sound was the tipping point of Gwenâs tears.Â
âGo dtĂ go mbuailfimid le chĂŠile arĂs, is fĂŠidir le Dia tĂş a shealbhĂş i pailme a lĂĄmh,â Merlin whispered with his eyes closed and head bowed. Percival had been raised by Druids; Merlin thought the blessing was fitting for the gentle man.Â
In a final attempt to do something for the man, Gwaine pressed his lips to Percivalâs. He needed his best friend alive. He loved the man and didnât want to see him go. There was so much good for the man to do in the world. He couldnât be taken so young. Not after everything heâd been through to get to where he was.Â
As Gwaine pulled away, all hope lost, Percival took a deep, gasping breath. The painful wheezing was gone, the soft fluttering sound left too. He opened his eyes and looked at Gwaine with shock and confusion.Â
âIt worked!â Gwaine sobbed. He cupped Percivalâs face in his hands and kissed the man again, deeper this time. Percival didnât waste a second in returning the kiss.Â
âHow did you know?â Percival asked, still catching his breath from being days without it.  Â
âA little bird told me,â was the only answer Gwaine gave. âI begged him to- he was hesitant but I got it out of him. I need to try whatever the cure was. I love you and seeing you go so slowly- so painfully- It couldnât be the end.âÂ
âYou love me?â Percival asked.Â
âWould you be alive if I didnât?â Gwaine asked. âYou should have told me.âÂ
âI didnât think you wereâŚâÂ
âYou can be attracted to both, Percy. But attraction isnât the same as love. I flirted so often to hide. My cowardice nearly cost you your life- It did cost you your life.â
âYet your love brought me back,â Percival smiled. âThat takes bravery I didnât have.âÂ
âDidnât?âÂ
âI donât want to hide anymore.âÂ
âThen we wonât,â Gwaine vowed. âArthurâs Camelot is different. Merlinâs not hiding anymore...Arthurâs engaged to Gwen...I donât think heâll deny us the same right.âÂ
The king had been standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe unnoticed since the two kissed and now made his presence known. âI wonât. Iâll write the law tonight.âÂ
âWhich means Iâll be writing it and heâll stamp it,â Merlin pointed out, drawing laughs from the room.Â
âThere are going to be more changes to come. I can only make the changes if the need is brought to my attention,��� Arthur said. âDonât worry. Pick the day and it shall be done.â
#combefere's journal#read your imagines#merlin#gwaine#percival#gaius#hanahaki#merlin imagine#gwaine imagine#percival imagine#whump#pergwaine#pergwaine imagine
45 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Truth be Splashed
Summary: Itâs all fun and games until Shane starts screaming when splashed with holy water.Â
For how much Shane hated, even feared, holy water, he was always relieved to see Ryan with his dinky little squirt gun. He had no idea if it worked on ghosts but it sure as hell worked on demons. He tested that himself and it was something he never wanted to feel again.
When they were getting ready for a shoot, Shane didnât touch the container the holy water was in. If it was in the squirt gun, heâd hold it by the holster to hand it to his boyfriend. The holy water in a water bottle was a little harder to get around, but he managed.Â
Ryan was a smart guy. Shane knew that full well. The shorter man could have his silly moments like anyone else, but Ryan was easily one of the smartest people heâd met his whole life-- and that was saying something.
âShane?â Ryan called from the living room. Shane was in the kitchen making dinner while Ryan found something for them to watch.
âYeah?â
âWhat you ever seen Constantine?âÂ
âUh...no. I read the graphic novel itâs based off of in college, though. Hellblazer, I think?â Shane kept working on their spaghetti.
âWas anything in it accurate?âÂ
âYouâd have to tell me, Ry. You know more about demons and that sort of stuff than I do. I just read it because it was by the same guy that wrote V for Vendetta.â Shane turned away from the stove when he heard Ryan coming closer to him.
Ryan cupped Shaneâs face in his hands, looking into the taller manâs eyes. The same brown eyes heâd fallen in love with a year ago.Â
âYou oka-â Shane let out a scream when Ryan took a plastic water bottle from his back pocket and splashed him in the face with the holy water inside it. He doubled over and moaned into his hands. After a minute or so, he was panting.Â
âWho the fuck are you?â Ryan demanded.
âRyan, wai-â Shane screamed again when the holy water was splashed on him again. âIâm Shane. You donât understand-â again he screamed, his eyes turning black.Â
âHow long have you been possessing my boyfriend, you demon fuck?â
âLonger than youâve been alive, kid.â Shaneâs smooth voice was replaced with one low and gravelly. The stark difference coming from Shaneâs mouth made Ryan take a step back.Â
âWha-â
âYou know what they say: war is hell. This poor kidâs laying in no-manâs land, his lungs turning to mush in his chest. I wanna stay outta hell⌠19 year-old, fresh outta high school, doesnât want to die⌠I jump in him and watch his life unfold like a movie. Pretty sweet setup.â
Ryan terrified. No-manâs land? He vaguely remembered the term from high school but Junior year was too far back. Shane talked about no-manâs land when they watched All Quiet on the Western Front. The space between the trenches.Â
âShane died in World War One?â
âAlmost. Itâs my...heâd say âmojoâ keeping everything in his skinny-ass body moving.â
The black eyes flickered and the brown was back. Shane was back.Â
âRyan, please. I can explain better than he can.â Shaneâs eyes were filled with pain because of the holy water and fear of what Ryan was going to do. His eyes hesitantly looked to the plastic water bottle.Â
âThen do it. What the fuck is going on?â
Shane trembled slightly at the anger in Ryanâs voice. âI was in WW1, you got that right. I was drafted two months after I graduated. We were in the trenches. Cold, soaking wet, out of food, and crawling with rats, flees, lice, and who knows what else.
âSome German who stumbled his way through no-manâs land gassed us. It sinks so we were supposed to go to higher ground. I moved too fast, got outta the trench before it started sinking and I forgot my mask in the trench.
âThe demon, Therpen, found me. Everything hurts when you get mustard gassed. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to blink. I just wanted to die but Therpen said if he possessed me, it would keep him out of hell and stop my pain, so I said yes. I just wanted the pain to stop.â
âBut the last yearâŚâ
âThatâs not Therpen. Thatâs me. Therpen doesnât control me, Ry. Heâs just along for the ride and keeps my body going. I do love you. I promise I do.â
Ryan had to think. His boyfriend was possessed by a demon and he should have died a little over 100 years ago. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? His boyfriend was possessed by a demon and older than his great-grandfather.Â
âPlease. Say something.â Shane pleaded.Â
âYou really- everything over the last year has nothing to do withâŚâ
âNo, no. Nothing at all. My love for you, Ryan, is genuinely something I feel. Demons donât feel emotions.â
Ryan contemplated for a moment. This Therpen had nothing to do with their relationship aside from the fact that he was Shaneâs personal generator.
âI...love you too. Just-just, why didnât you tell me about this?â Ryan capped the holy water and put the bottle back in his back pocket.
âI didnât want to scare you. I donât like seeing you scared, Little Guy.â
Ryan took another step back and Shane felt his heart clench. âThe whole time...the whole two years Iâve known you. After all the shit youâve given me for trying to find proof of the supernatural and thereâs been a fucking demon has giving you life support for 100 years?â Ryan clenched his hands into fists and resists the urge to splash him with the holy water.Â
âThatâs how it worked; playing...devilâs advocate for lack of a better phrase.âÂ
âYou never once could have mentioned that you didnât think I was crazy? Damn, Shane.â Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. âI just- Iâm not scared of you. Iâm just fucking pissed. All this time and you never fucking trusted me.â
âI do trust you. That isnât why I never told you.â Shaneâs tone of voice became softer. âYou get so scared so easily. Iâm sorry.â
âI need time to think.â Ryan dropped the holy water on the kitchen table and grabbed his jacket.
âWait, wait. Ry-â
The door slammed.Â
*****
Ryan came back two hours later. Two bowls of now cold noodles sat on the kitchen table. Shane slept in what must have been an uncomfortable ball on the couch. The younger man sighed with a shake of his head. He took the blanket from the back of the couch and laid it over Shane. He made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.Â
Shane stirred on the couch and his sleep clouded eyes donned confusion when he noticed the blanket on him. Finally, he looked up and saw Ryan. âYou came back.â
âYeah.â Ryan scratched the back of his neck.
Shane stood and folded the blanket, draping it back over the couch. âAny decisions or is the jury still out?âÂ
Ryan thought about how to word his next question. âThis demon, Sherpin or whatever, doesnât impact your choices? It just keeps you alive?âÂ
âIt just keeps me alive.â Shane confirmed.Â
âIâm not going anywhere, Big Guy.âÂ
Shane felt instant relief at Ryanâs words. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the younger man, but he wasnât sure how Ryan would react at this moment.Â
âAre you hungry?â Ryan questioned.Â
âIâm good.â Shane shrugged.Â
Ryan cocked his head to the side, doubting the manâs words.Â
âIâm kinda hungry.â
Ryan chuckled and put the bowls in the microwave. Shane got them something to drink.
âRyan?â
âHm?â
âYou know how we donât get a lot of activity in the demon episodes of unsolved?â
âYeah.â
âThatâs uh, thatâs because of me and Therpen. I donât want to risk you getting hurt or scared so Therpen shows himself when you arenât looking and scares them off.â Shane was shocked when Ryan started laughing. Â
âAfter learning my boyfriend is being possessed by a demon, I donât think anything you say can surprise me anymore.â
âHow do you⌠How did you even figure it out? I never said anything. I was so careful.âÂ
Ryan scratched the back of his head as the microwave went off. âI was uh, I was tagged in someoneâs fanart on Twitter. You know how some fans âthinkâ youâre a demon? Splashing you was supposed to make you laugh, not scream. I had no fucking idea.â
It was Shaneâs turn to laugh. âCan I see the fanart?â
Ryanâs cheeks turned red and Shane smirked. âIt canât be worse than anything weâve done.â
âIâll DM it to you.â
*****
That night, they laid in bed and Shane was careful not to move too much. Ryan rolled onto his side and looked at Shane through the darkness.
âWhat are you doing, Shane?â Ryan asked. âDid I hurt you?â
âRy, you didnât know-â
âI did after the first time.â Ryan sat up and turned on the lamp. âI-â
âMe screaming wasnât the reaction you were expecting.â Shane sat up. âItâs okay. Iâm not in pain and you came back, so everythingâs okay.â
Ryan scooted closer to Shane and Shane reached over him to turn off the lamp again. As soon as they laid down again, Ryan curled into Shaneâs side and the taller man didnât waste a second in wrapping his arms around the shorter man. It didnât take long for them to fall asleep.
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#otp: we took an oath#shyan#buzzfeed unclean#buzzfeed unsolved imagine#shane madej#demon!shane#ryan bergara#ryan and shane
157 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Talk Sweet to Me
Summary: Morgan and Reid think theyâre being clever about hiding their relationship until Morgan answers Reidâs phone when Garcia calls. Elle, Hotch, JJ, and Gideon also know about their âsecreteâ relationship. Elle challenges JJ to a bet and Hotch decides to join in.Â
Trigger Warning: Panic Attack
There were times- disliked times- when the long, hard cases went back-to-back. The special agents were in their respective houses for only a few hours before Hotch had Garcia calling everyone back into the office.Â
The shrill ring of what Morgan thought to be his phone pade both him and the sleeping doctor moan. âDerek,â Spencer whined.
Derek sighed and picked up the phone, flipping it open and holding it to his ear. âYeah?âÂ
âYou arenât my Junior G-Man,â came Garciaâs voice.Â
Derekâs eyes snapped open and he shot up, nearly launching a confused and spooked Spencer to the floor. The doctor would have tumbled to the floor if he hadnât managed to grab Derekâs leg with one hand and a handful of his shirt with the other.Â
âGarcia-â
âMorgan, what- or who- you do off the clock and out of the office is none of my business.â Garcia was grinning behind the phone. âAs long as Reidâs with you, bring him along. Thereâs a new case.â Â
âYou wonât tell anyone?â Morgan all but breathed. Spencer shot him a confused look, his fist still clenched around the hem of Derekâs shirt, his bony knuckles resting on the other manâs stomach.Â
âIâll make you a deal, Sugar: I wonât tell anyone if you tell me everything.â Garciaâs grin morphed into a smirk.Â
Morgan sighed. âDeal.â They both hung up.
âGarcia knows?â Spencerâs amber eyes were worried.Â
âYeah. I thought⌠I thought it was my phone.â Derek wrapped his arms around Spencer and drew him close so the slender doctor was more or less sitting in his lap. âShe wonât tell anyone, Baby. We know Garcia. Weâll get sisterly teasing, but she wonât make things hard for us and she wonât let anyone else give us a hard time, either.âÂ
*****
Hotch constantly wondered why the team always tried hiding things from each other. There was no point. Did they have a pact about not profiling each other? Yes. Did that mean they could turn off the part of their brains that kept them working in the BAU? Hell no. That wasnât something that could be turned off and back on.Â
Everyone knew there was something between Morgan and Reid. No-one questioned it. As their boss, Hotchner didnât care what they did in their down time as long as it didnât impact their work. As their friend, Hotch hoped they were both happy.Â
Morgan wasnât as snappy after he and Reid started dating. He wasnât always itching to break the spine of every unsub or more than annoying neighbor of a victim. He was more playful without the underlying self-doubt.Â
Reid started smiling more around the time when the edge of Morganâs temper dulled. He was a little more self-confident- albeit still uneasy when talking to larger crowds. But everyone pieced the truth together in due time.Â
Elle had told Reid he wasnât getting anywhere because he never asked anyone out. The one time he worked up the courage to ask someone out- but doesnât say who- Reid asks her if flowers are too much. He bought Morgan flowers anyway.Â
Before asking Morgan out, Reid shyly asked JJ to help him with the wording. Would a coffee shop be too casual but a quiet, dimly lit restaurant be too much? JJ answered every curious question with a smile and reassured the man at every eyebrow furrow.Â
Hotch smiled one of rare smiles when he got three texts from Reid: two were pictures of a tie and the third was a question of which he liked better. The blue.Â
The rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place when Morgan came into work- after Reid, as always- with his normal boots shined and rubbing his hand down Reidâs back instead of ruffling his hair.
The only one who didnât see the interaction was Garcia. She was the one missing the sweeping glances of Morganâs dark eyes checking a room for Reidâs face after a raid or a checking the lanky doctor for injury after being separated.
*****
âYou know what, JJ?â Elle got the quickly passing blondeâs attention. Thinking twice, she held up her forefinger. âReid.â Nothing. âSpencer?��� The doctor still didnât look up from his papers, scribbling away with a pencil with a partially straightened paper clip coming out of the almost exhausted eraser.Â
The women looked at each other and giggled.
âWhatâs up, Elle?âÂ
âYou know about Morgan and Reid, right?â
âIâm not a profiler, but yeah.â JJ nossed. âWhy?â
âWe all know Reid isnât going to say anything; heâs too shy to admit he can feel anything not pertaining to work. Morgan wonât; heâs too personal. So letâs make a bet: when one of them is going to slip.â
Hotch chose that time to enter the bullpen. âGarciaâs going to slip first.â
âWhat makes you see that?â Both women looked to their boss, but Elle was the one to speak.Â
âGarcia knows everything about all of us; sheâs closest to Morgan and reads Reid as easily as she reads her codes,â Hotch explained. âYouâre discussing a bet about Reidâs relationship while heâs right there?â
The trio looked to the youngest team member who looked up after a couple of moments of feeling six eyes on him. âWhat?âÂ
âNevermind, Spence,â JJ dismissed.Â
Reid shook his head and turned back to his papers.Â
âAre you in, Hotch?â Elle smirked.Â
âHow much?â Hotchâs eyes danced between the two women.Â
â$20?â JJ suggested.Â
Elle shrugged. âWorks for me.â
âMaking a free 40 dollars doesnât sound bad.â Hotchâs scarce smile appeared on his lips. â$20 on Garcia slipping.âÂ
â$20 on Reid feeling bad about not saying anything,â JJ decided.
âMorganâs going to slip up and grab his ass at the wrong time.â Elle paused. âShould we see if Gideon wants in?âÂ
Hotch debated for a few seconds but shook his head. âHe doesnât care for games of chance.â
*****
Two weeks went by without a sign from either boyfriend. Well, they got confirmation that Hotchâs bet wasnât impossible. More than twice, Reid came back from Garciaâs office with pink cheeks.Â
The two weeks passed and the BAU found themselves in the midwest, working on a string of serial killings. Reid stayed behind in the PD to finish one of his maps while the rest of the team was going around the second crime scene. Elle, JJ, Morgan, and Hotch stood in wait for work from Reid or Garcia; Gideon worked on getting a little extra info from the head detective.Â
Morganâs phone rang and he flipped it open, putting it on speaker. âTalk to me.âÂ
âHowâs your favorite doctor doing?â Came Garciaâs voice over the line. âI texted him but he hasnât answered me, yet.âÂ
Morgan froze, his eyes widened, and all color left his face.Â
âDamn it,â Elle huffed. Both she and JJ reached for their wallets.Â
On the other line, back in Virginia, Garcia hadnât breathed since she first heard Elleâs voice. âOh God! I didnât know I was- Derek, Iâm so-â Garcia stopped. âWait⌠You all knew?âÂ
âOf course we knew, Garcia.â JJ begrudgingly handed Hotch the $20 he was due, Elle following suit.Â
âThey were trying to hide something from trained and seasoned profilers,â Elle pointed out.Â
âAnd I got $40 out of it,â Hotch chimed in.
âYou were betting on how weâd tell you?â Morgan glanced between the three.Â
âWeâll explain later,â Hotch dismissed.
âBut what you need to know now- and what Iâll tell Spence- is that we donât care who you love. Youâre still Morgan; heâs still Reid,â JJ promised.Â
âWhatâve you got, Garcia?â Elle brought the team back to the present.
*****
Three days later, the team was back home. JJ couldnât stop herself from snapping a picture of Reid and Morgan who had fallen asleep leaning against each other on the plane.Â
Morgan hadnât been able to tell Reid the team knew. Reid had told Morgan about his time in high school and college. How if he wasnât bullied for his brain, then he was being bullied for being gay. The young doctor would panic. But he needed and deserved to know.Â
Spencer came back from the store to the smells of something that was on theÂ
border of burning. âDerek?â
âKitchen!â
âWhat are you cooking?â Spencer put the contents of the shopping bags away while Derek all but fluttered around the kitchen.Â
âDinner.â
âBut you never cook.â Spencer cocked his head. âDo you want help?â
âNope. No, I handle chilli.â Derek stirred the pot with the hand and turned the burner under diced potatoes off with the other.Â
âOkay.â Spencer turned to leave the kitchen but stopped and turned back to his boyfriend. âWhat happened?âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âYou havenât looked at me since I came in; your voice is tight, sentences clipp-â
âKid-â
âI know. I know weâre not supposed to profile each other. I just⌠You arenât the only one acting differently. JJ and Elle arenât⌠What isnât everyone telling me? Is someone sick?âÂ
âNo, Baby, no. Everyoneâs fine.â Derek took the chilli off the heat of the burner.Â
âThen whatâs wrong?â Spencer wrapped his arms tightly around his middleÂ
just as Derek looked to him.Â
âNoâŚâ Derek sighed and crossed the small apartment to sit up the couch and held his arms out to Spencer. âPretty Boy, come here.âÂ
Spencer immediately complied but didnât let go of himself as he snuggled up against Derekâs side.
âWeâve known Garciaâs known about us for a while now. The rest of the team knows too.â Derek spoke faster when he felt Spencer flinch and stiffen. âThey donât care, Spencer, they donât. When Garcia slipped on the phone and confirmed what they thought, JJ told me they donât care who we love and that weâre still us.âÂ
Spencerâs head was already busy coming up with the worst possible scenarios. He was losing his job- Derek was demoted- JJ didnât want to be his friend anymore.Â
âSpencer?â Derek hugged the younger man tightly, squeezing him, knowing tight pressure helped to calm him down; ground him. âBreathe, Baby Boy, breathe. Weâre okay.âÂ
The doctor mutely nodded, but continued shaking. His lips were moving quickly but Derek couldnât make anything out. He hugged Spencer a little tighter, kissing the top of his head.Â
âCome back to me, Spencer. Nothinâs gonna change. I promise.â
*****
When Spencer woke up, he was swaddled in a blanket, laying on Derekâs chest. He blinked at the light of the TV and breathed in deeply, nuzzling his nose against Derekâs neck. The older man looked down and brushed a strand of Spencerâs hair from his forehead with the ghosts of a touch.
âFeelinâ better?âÂ
âI...I uh.â Spencer paused, clenching his eyes shut before trying again. âI didnât mean to panic.âÂ
âYou didnât do anything wrong.â Derek kissed Spencerâs head. âDid you hear what I was saying?â The SSAâs voice was gentle and patient.Â
âBits and pieces.âÂ
Derek sat up, the motion bringing the securely wrapped Spencer with him. Only once sitting up did it occur to Spencer that the blanket he was swaddled in was the weighted blanket from their bed.Â
âYou okay to talk about this?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âThe team knew for a while. We knew Garcia was aware because of when I answered your phone at three in the morning. The rest of the team pieced things together. They had a bet going on how theyâd find out from us.âÂ
âWho won?â Spencer cleared his throat when his voice wobbled.
Derek chuckled. âHotch. Garcia asked how my âfavorite doctorâ was when she didnât know she was on speaker.â
âThatâs how we know weâre okay,â Spencer nodded.Â
âThatâs how we know weâre okay. Our boss was in on the bet, no-one wentÂ
screaming to Strauss. Nothing changes since that call in Ohio and nothingâs going to change, Pretty Boy.âÂ
A calm, steady, and warm silence passed over the couple. âDo you want me to show you how to make a real chilli?â Spencer teased an offer.
**********
@chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ @stxrryspencerâ @prettyboy-reidâ @reidecoratingâ @the-need-for-reid-speedâÂ
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#moreid#moreid imagine#derek morgan#spencer reid#jenifer jareau#elle greenaway#jason gideon
70 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Fight With Yourself and Your Thoughts in the Night
Request: âMy thought was heâd turn into an actual white wolf and is knocked out by the spell. When he wakes up, heâs been locked into a small cage along with Jaskier. The bad guys think that Geralt will end up killing Jaskier, but instead Wolf!Geralt treats him like a pack member, or basically like he always does. Eventually, they escape and either wears off or they go to Yennefer to have her remove it.âÂ
When Jaskier came to, the first thing he noticed was that something soft and warm was pressed against his side. The second thing he noticed was that wherever he was was much too small for him and the soft creature beside him.Â
The creature whimpered and Jaskier jumped, hitting his head off of what could only be a cage. He pressed slowly raised his hand to see how high this cage was. He wouldnât be able to sit up from his crouched position on his knees and elbows. Accepting he was trapped in his cage with the creature, he finally looked over and his eyes landed on a snow-white wolf.Â
The bardâs heart went cold for a few moments. The wolf began to sniff him and started nudging at Jaskierâs arms like it was trying to get a look at his sides.
Scrutinizing the wolf, Jaskier was hit with a wave of realization. âGeralt?â Jaskier asked, holding his hand out to the wolf. The wolf placed his paw in Jaskierâs hand. âAny idea where we are?â The wolf whimpered. A large iron door opened and a man with a greatsword strapped to his back walked in with a vial in his hand. âGood to see youâre awake, bard,â the man said. He held the vial up. âDo you know what this is?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âDonât test me, boy.â The banditâs voice was low and gruff.Â
âIâve seen Geralt take them but I have no idea what they are or what they do. Honest.â Jaskier shrugged.
âOne of my men took a sip and died on the spot. I take youâre going to want this.â The man walked closer to the cage and put the vial close enough to the cage that Jaskier could reach through the cage for it.Â
âWhy would I want this if it killed someone?â Jaskier raised a brow.Â
âThe wolfâs going to get hungry before long. You canât expect the slimy cur not to turn to you for food when that happens. Witchers are more beastly than the fucking wolves that hunt in the highlands. You can either let the heartless fuck-â
âYou nicked us from the highlands, didnât you?â Jaskier cocked his head. âShouldnât you be in a cage too, then?âÂ
âWatch your mouth you little shit!â The bandit bellowed.Â
âWhatâre you going to do about it? Honestly? You donât have the guts to kill me yourself so youâre going to make someone you bewitched do it for you? Youâre more cowardly than me,â Jaskier laughed.Â
The man withdrew the keys from his belt and walked to the cage with a scowl. He unlocked it and the second the door was opened, Jaskier lunged and caught the man around the waist, holding him to the ground. The wolf wasted no time in slashing the manâs throat with his claws.Â
âGeralt.â Jaskier tried for the wolfâs attention. âGeralt.â He patted the wolfâs head. âWould drinking your potion undo the spell? I donât know what-â The bard stopped talking when the wolf whimpered and barked. âAlright. Letâs give it a go, hm?âÂ
Jaskier picked up the bottle and though it took them a couple of tries, Geralt did swallow the potion. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and Geralt was kneeling before Jaskier with black eyes and blackened veins around his eyes.Â
âIt worked,â Jaskeir grinned.Â
Geralt hummed and stood. Jaskier, whose legs had been bent for so long, had a harder time standing. The Witcher figured it was just as well. Heâd have to slaughter their way out, his potion was ramping him up. He heaved a deep breath and turned to Jaskier.Â
âI donât want you seeing what Iâm about to do.âÂ
âWhat are you-â
In one fluid motion, Geralt steadied Jaskier against his chest and cast Somne. The bardâs head lulled back on his shoulder as the man promptly fell asleep. He eased Jaskier down so he was laying on the floor.Â
The Witcher turned to the door and blasted it down with Aard. The first man to raise alarm was easily killed by his own sword once Geralt got it out of his hands. Some of the men ran while others were foolish enough to attack him.Â
Geralt never went more than a couple of feet away from the iron door. He needed to keep Jaskier safe. The men that chose to attack were killed in front of the door while a few took a bit of coercion.
Once Jaskierâs heartbeat was the only one Geralt could hear, he went back to the room with the cage and scooped Jaskier into his arms to carry him out of the ramshackle cave.
*****
Jaskierâs head was pillowed by Geraltâs travelling cloak. He could tell that by the scent: dead leaves, pine needles, woodsmoke, and a slight tint of something he probably didnât want to know. His head felt weirdly full yet light. Like someone packed his head full of clouds.Â
Geralt was drying his hair, the river water flowing a little redder as it passed him. Roach, on the other hand, was grazing on grass.Â
Jaskier sat up and he was now at an angle to see the water flowing past Geralt. The last words Geralt said to him floated through his mind. I donât want you seeing what Iâm about to do.Â
What exactly had he done? They were outside so Geralt had clearly gotten them out. But how? Was the Witcher himself-
Jaskier yelped when Roach nudged his head.Â
âHead hurt?â Geralt didnât look up from drying his hair. The usually silver strands were closer to steel when wet, but clean of blood.Â
â...No.â Jaskier rubbed his eyes. His head didnât hurt but that didnât mean it felt normal, either. âWhat, uh...what happened, Geralt?âÂ
âWe got out.â
âI see that . But how did we get out?â Jaskier stood, bracing himself against Roachâs side when he stumbled. The bard rubbed Roachâs side for a few seconds in thanks.Â
âI knocked the door out, gathered our things, and carried you out. Whatever they knocked you out with had a worse effect than we thought.â Â Â
Jaskier narrowed his eyes at Geraltâs back. The Witcher was always skimpy with the details, but the bard could always tell when Geralt was tiptoeing around a specific detail.Â
Accepting he wouldnât know the whole truth until Geralt was ready to tell him, Jaskier joined Geralt by the banks of the river, sitting beside the Witcher, humming absentmindedly.Â
âIâm not scared of you. You canât scare me. I thought you would have learned that by now.â Jaskier ran his hands through his hair. âYou saved my life...again. Which is why you canât scare me.âÂ
âYou saw my eyes, Jaskier.â
âI did. But I also see them no. The guilty fear. Youâre a good person, Geralt. You donât fight unless thereâs no other option. There was a literal cage they locked us in. I might not know how to help you fight, but I know- I think- how to lessen your guilt. To lessen your guilt, my friend, you need reassurances to drown out whatever nastiness your silly brain is spoon-feeding you.âÂ
Geralt grunted and finally sat up fully, dropping the towel in his lap. âWhy are you doing this?â
âEveryoneâs always putting you down and you need someone in your corner. Maybe I should write another ballad about you, hm? What do you say to that, Geralt? About the...the sobbing mother who thought her son was dead.â Jaskier snapped his fingers. âYes! And how we watched their joyous reunion!âÂ
Geralt was only sort of listening at this point. Now that this idea was in Jaskierâs head, the bard was going to write it whether the Witcher wanted it or not. Which meant heâd be hearing all about it for the next couple of weeks.Â
âThank you.â Geralt cut Jaskier off mid-sentence.Â
âHm? For what?â Jaskier blinked.Â
âNot...fuck.â
Jaskier got the message. âNothingâs changed; thereâs nothing to react to. Youâll always be you. The scary-looking man who smiled when a young girl gave him a flower to thank him for saving her brother.
âYes, you being a Witcher does have some dark and sadder days- such as today. But even my being a bard has its darker and sadder days- like the day I met Valdo Marx. Now if youâve ever seen a monster in human skin, itâs that flaming compost heap.âÂ
Geralt grunted out a laugh and Jaskier beamed.Â
âCould you⌠Do you remember anything from while you were under the spell?â The bardâs hand was fidgeting.Â
âNo. We were swarmed by bandits, one of them was a mage, a bright light, then Iâm kneeling next to you with blood on my hand.âÂ
Jaskier nodded slowly. âSometime after I woke up, a man came in and gave me one of your potions saying I was going to want it before long because one of his men died after taking a single sip. I got the keys from the man and got us out of the cage, you drank the potion, and then I woke up here.âÂ
âI put you to sleep.â Geralt wouldnât meet Jaskierâs eyes.Â
âYou got us out alive,â Jaskier pointed out. âBesides, I should be thanking you. That was the most soundly Iâve slept in days.âÂ
Geralt shook his head but said nothing else.Â
âCome on.â Jaskier took Geralt by the hand and tugged him up to his feet. âIf you donât comb your hair youâre not going to be able to.â
*****
Before midnight, Jaskier had curled up in his bedroll a safe distance from the fire but close enough that the flames kept him warm.Â
Geralt lay on Jaskierâs other side so if anything were to try to get at Jaskier it would have to go through him first. As he lay there, the bardâs words drifted in and out of his mind. The words of his peacefully sleeping bard.Â
Jaskier never lied to him. Heâd dance around an answer if he was embarrassed, but he never lied. Eventually, the bard would go on and tell Geralt the whole answer because he felt bad about not really answering.Â
When it came to his love life, Jaskier possessed questionable morals- just like any other bard heâd ever crossed paths with. Unlike most freelancers, Jaskier willingly helped anyone and everyone he could without a thought of payment with a smile.Â
If someone so kind, selfless, and trusting as Jaskier would place his life in Geraltâs hands, maybe he wasnât as evil as he thought. He could try trusting himself as Jaskier did. Or at least a little more.Â
The Witcher rolled over, facing Jaskier, and focussed on that bardâs heartbeat. The sound lulled him to sleep by ensuring Jaskier was alive and well.
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#ao3#the witcher imagine#the witcher#jaskier x geralt#geraskier#geralt#jaskier
52 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Punchline Takes a Hit: PT2
Summary: Spencer debates the difference of love and transference. With some help from a couple of friends, he finally gets the courage to ask out his crush.Â
JJ could tell from the second she laid eyes on Reid that something was off. She couldnât tell if something bad happened, or if he was just thinking. Either way, the blonde figured that talking would do the young doctor some good.Â
âHey, Spence.â JJ approached the younger man. âEverything okay?âÂ
He looked up from his paperwork with a blank face but conflicted eyes. âYeah. Why?âÂ
âYou just seem a little quiet today. Are you sure everythingâs going alright?â JJ cocked her head a little but made sure to keep her voice gentle.Â
Oftentimes, one had to over express themselves for Reid to get their gestures. He had no problems reading potential unsubs or the families of victims, yet he couldnât read his friends well. If something was wrong, he could tell immediately, he could tell they were happy because they were smiling and laughing. Just about anything else, though? Annoyance, anger, confusion, contentment, curiousness? He couldnât tell.Â
Reid started tugging firmly- not hard enough to hurt- on the hair at the nape of his neck. JJ noticed first as she was passing through the bullpen on her way to Hotchâs office with an armload of files. She quickly placed the files on Hotchâs desk and left before the man had a chance to say thank you.Â
JJ placed her hands gently on Reidâs shoulder. âSpence? Letâs go talk, okay?â She helped the young doctor out of his seat and led him to her office. âYou okay?âÂ
âJust...overthinking.â Spencerâs hand was still tugging at his hair and JJ found herself wondering if he even knew he was doing it.Â
âOkay,â JJ nodded slowly. She handed Reid a pencil and a rubber band from her desk with one hand, easing Spencerâs hand from his hair with the other. âIs your mom okay?â she guessed.
âFine.â Spencer took a deep breath and shakily released it. He started muttering under his breath and JJ frowned.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âTransference happens when someone redirects their feelings or-or a desire for someone to an unrelated third party,â Reid recited. âFreud believed it happened more often when stemming from oneâs childhood. But that doesnât make- it canât-âÂ
âSpence, Spence. Slow down. We can figure this out. Why do you think youâre transferring your feelings onto a third party?â JJ eased Reid to sit in her desk chair and he immediately started moving the swivel chair in semi-circles.Â
âI have to be. Heâs not even-â Spencer stopped and shook his head.Â
âWho?â JJ tried to pry.Â
âMorgan.â
âMorganâs bi,â JJ offered. âDo you have feelings for Morgan?âÂ
âI canât,â Spencer shook his head frantically. The sound that came out of his throat when the rubber band snapped against his hand was nearly a whimper.
âWhy not?â JJ cocked her head and sat on the corner of her over-cluttered desk. âSpence, itâs okay to develop feelings for people- especially someone you work with and see everyday.â   Â
âNot Morgan. He wasnât trying to be romantic. He was just being a friend. Friends hang out after work. You and I arenât dating and we go to the movies all the time.â
âRight,â JJ nodded. âHave you tried talking to Morgan about this?âÂ
âNo. I canât. It would mess everything up,â Spencer stopped spinning the chair. âItâs just transference. I think I like him because he was kind and yesterday was close to what a date is supposed to be.âÂ
âAre you sure it wasnât a date?â JJ proposed.Â
âIt wasnât. He would have told me.âÂ
âHow did he ask you?â JJâs brows furrowed together.Â
Spencerâs eyes gained a distant look. âPretty Boy? Yeah? Wanna get some coffee thatâs supposed to be sweet without rotting your teeth? My treat. Oh. Sure. The coffee they have here isnât good enough? Do you see the ability to steam mil-âÂ
âWait, wait,â JJ stopped Reid from continuing the rest of the conservation. âMorgan offering to pay was the indication of it being a date.âÂ
It was Reidâs turn to frown. âHow is that an indication of a date? Thatâs such an everyday thing- he pays for my coffee all the time.â His eyes widened. âHave we been on dates before I didnât know?âÂ
âNo, no, Spence, he specified that this time was his treat. It wasnât a convenience where we were on a case and you both needed coffee. This was going out of the way after work instead of going home.âÂ
âI didnât know⌠This isnât transference?â Spencerâs brown eyes finally met JJâs.Â
âNo. You two like each other. Thereâs nothing being transferred.â JJ wore a small, encouraging smile.
*****
Elle was a little more than confused when she got a text from Reid that night. It was pretty rare for the young man to contact anyone outside of work seeing he had such a strong dislike towards technology.Â
The text read: Are flowers too much for a first date?
Elle shook her head with a soft smile. Boys, she thought with a sigh. Regardless, she answered the poor boyâs text. You have to be careful with roses. They mean different things. Roses are too strong.Â
Roses are too strong? Reid frowned and texted Hotch instead. He was married; heâd know about flower meanings, right?Â
Hotch chuckled as he answered his phone. Whatâs so funny?â Haley asked.Â
âDo you remember Dr. Spencer Reid?â Hotch looked at the blonde.Â
âHeâs the shy, Autistic boy, right?â She looked up from feeding Jack.
âYeah. He just texted me, âdo you know anything about flower symbolism? Elle says flowers have different messagesâ.â Hotchâs thumb danced across the flip-phoneâs buttons.Â
âWhat are you telling him?â
âThat roses have the highest chance of getting him into his dateâs bed. Pink camellias and carnations are signs of love and longing; ferns represent new beginnings.â Hotch typed the names of the flowers, placing an equals sign before the meaning.Â
âDo you know who his date is?â
âSSA Hotchner does not.âÂ
So yes he did.
*****
Once Reid bought the flowers, he got into a cab and headed for Morganâs. He knocked on the door, flowers in hand. His heart was hammering in his chest while he waited, jumping at the sudden barking of Clooney. It had slipped his mind that Morgan had a dog.
Morgan opened the door, a little shocked to see Reid with a bouquet of flowers. âWhatâs up, Pretty Boy?âÂ
âI-IâŚâ Reidâs heart was suddenly in his throat and he gulped. âI talked to JJ and I didnât know yesterday was supposed to date.â the young doctor paused. âI didnât- I havenât been on a date before. I didnât know that-â
âSpencer, Spencer. Slow down. Itâs okay. Why donât you come in?â Morgan opened the door a little wider led Reid in with a gentle hand on his forearm. Reid followed inside and Morgan closed the door behind them.Â
Clooney was sitting on the couch, completely ignoring the men without a care in the world.Â
âI wanted to ask you out on a real date- one that I know is a date. JJ said flowers were a nice gesture.âÂ
Morgan chuckled and took the flowers from Reid when the latter offered them. âYouâre sure this is something youâre okay, Spencer?â
âYou arenât pressuring me; this isnât transference. I genuinely have feelings for you,â Spencer nodded, not breaking eye contact.Â
The solid, unwavering eye contact was the note that assured Morgan he was serious. Spencer hated eye contact. It made him squirm and stutter. Spencer only ever made eye contact for longer than a split second when he was sure of a detail in a profile or he was info-dumping and the person he was talking to was honestly engaging back.Â
âAlright, Pretty Boy,â Morgan nodded with a smile. âWeâll go on a real date. Weâll think of something.â The man was already formulating ideas for the date. Somewhere that wasnât too bright or loud, somewhere that didnât serve spicy food. It narrowed things down some.Â
âI-I know Iâm not an easy person. I just...somethingâs good,â he tried to explain. âI donât... â he stopped and took a deep breath.
âYou ainât gotta know, man. Sometimes, ya just gotta go with it.âÂ
âJust gotta go with it,â Reid repeated with a smile.
**********
@mayonnaiseismycomfortfoodâ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheeseâ
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#moreid#moreid fanfic#moreid imagine#spencer reid#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#jennifer jj jareau#elle greenaway#spencer reid imagine#derek morgan imagine
14 notes
¡
View notes
Note
I have a question. Iâm writing whump and I need some more whump ideas. Basically person a/b are kidnapped and person b is used to get at person a. Any ideas?
Let's see...
A is asked questions and B is punished if they lied.
A knows information B doesn't so B is beaten until A gives up the info
The kidnapper kidnapped for revenge and so beats B because they know it's going to hurt A all that much more.
Infection stories are well liked
This os the first kind of ask I've ever gotten! I am so honored that you ask me. I hope these help I'll be sure to post more if I can think of more.
#read your imagines#combefere's journal#whump prompt#anon request#anons welcome#anonnie#whump#whump writing#writing prompt
10 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Shyan: Morning Cuddles
I will admit the ending is kind of cheesy, but I still sort of feel like itâs something Shane would use to âflirtâ. @tony-andonutsâ
It wasnât uncommon for Ryan and Shane to sleep in a haunted place. They did it more than they didnât. Only a handful of times would they sleep in different rooms. The two almost always slept in the same room. This was one of those times.
Ryan could sometimes fall asleep when snuggled up beside Shane. So there they lay in the two sleeping bags with zipped together. Same as every night at home, they whispered back and forth, facing each other. The night camera would pick up a giggle every now and again.Â
Eventually, Shane drifted off to sleep. Heâd tried to stay up knowing Ryan got scared easily. Ryan hugged Shane closer and scooted further up the sleeping bag so he could tuck the half-giantâs head under his chin. No that he was completely swaddled in Ryanâs arms, Shane promptly fell asleep.
*****
It wasnât until around 4:00 in the morning when Ryan fell asleep, Shaneâs head still tucked under his chin. Yet when he woke up three hours later, his head was pillowed by Shaneâs shoulder.Â
Slowly, the younger of the two tried getting up and Shane emitted a noise somewhere between a hum and a grunt in protest.
âShane,â Ryan giggled. He was half sitting up when the man in question wrapped his lanky arms around his waist. âWe gotta-â
âItâs cold. Come back.â Shane tried slithering further into the sleeping bags, his arms still around Ryan.
Ryan burst into giggles and caught himself on his forearms when Shane tugged him down into the double sleeping bag.
Shane was awake by this point, but that didnât mean he was going to give up easily on his cuddles. Besides, Ryan wasnât scared anymore.Â
Still grinning, Ryan brushed Shaneâs hair from his eyes, looking down at the much taller man. âWeâve gotta finish up the episode, Big Guy.â
Shane huffed a teasing sigh. âFine.â He unwound his arms from around Ryan and pushed himself to sit up.âWe should start bringing portable coffee machines or something.âÂ
âYou mean a percolator?â Ryan scoffed.Â
Shaneâs throat made a noise of indifference as he started rolling up their sleeping bag. âWe are gonna stop for coffee, right?â
âDuh.â Ryan began packing up some of their cameras, putting his go-pro harness back on.
âReady to leave this house behind us?â Shane stood, the rolled up sleeping bag pushed (or punched) into its too-small carry bag.
âFuck yes.â
*****
Shane sat at his desk next to Ryan, editing the video for the next episode of Ruining History when Hannah walked by their desks with a grin. âThis weekâs episode, you guys, is fucking adorable.â
âWhat?â Shane looked up, moving his headphones from the top of his head to rest around his neck.
âYou havenât seen the new episode?â Hannah smirked.Â
âNoâŚâ Shane glanced at Ryan from the corner of his eyes.Â
Hannahâs smirk morphed back into a grin. âThe Skeptic Believers are gonna go crazy.â And with that, she walked away.Â
âYou didnât cut that out?â Shane opened a YouTube tab and his fingers flew across his keyboard. Ryanâs face was a warm shade of pink.Â
âI cut most of it out.â
Shane skipped to the end of the video and stopped when there were almost three minutes left. The morning clip, which was usually Shane half sitting up with eyes hardly opened. This videoâs morning clip started with Ryan trying to sit up, Shane pulling him back down. Their giggles and dialogue was fully vocal.Â
Shane wore a grin as he turned to face Ryan. âDo you know what youâve done, Ry? You get so many tags on Instagram and Twitter. Youâre going to be tagged in so much fan art.â
Ryan wheezed before chortling. âYou do realize youâre going to be tagged in a bunch, too, right?â
âYes. Some of them are actually kinda cute. Most are creepy--but some are good.â Shane shifted, uncrossing his lanky legs. âDonât worry, Little Guy. The fanart isnât as cute as you are.â
#combefere's journal#read your imagines#ryan and shane imagine#skeptic believer#shyan#buzzfeed unsolved imagine#shane madej imagine#ryan beragara imagine
98 notes
¡
View notes