#it's one of the only ones i had without the subtitles over him
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Random Question Time
#gbunny polls#no straight roads#nsr#i don't get enough votes on these to consider the results#to be a measured response from the fandom#but i think this is the question i'm most curious about the answers for#also feel free to use this image if you feel so inclined#i just edited one of the screenshots i took/posted a while back#it's one of the only ones i had without the subtitles over him#but it also has his coat clipping through his scarf#so it was unusable for my needs X(
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WINNERS OF ALL HEARTS.

People love your and Oscar’s relationship since the beginning; Moments of you and your boyfriend Oscar during Drive To Survive season 7.
pairing. Oscar Piastri x fem! reader
warnings. est. relationship. In honor of Oscar’s win in Bahrain! 🫶🏻 I have never seen a single episode of dts and I definitely don't plan to. Everything here is made up and doesn’t relate to the actual season. // I’ll do Lando version too!
[episode one]
The season opener buzzed with energy. You walked hand in hand with Oscar, people and cameras around you. It was nice to be back after winter break.
As you strolled along, you glanced down and noticed your shoelace was untied. Stopping mid-step, you turned to Oscar, handing him your handbag with a casual smile.
“Could you hold this for me, please?” you asked with smile.
Oscar ignored your question, but instead of standing there as you’d expected, he knelt down beside you, his movements swift and deliberate. His fingers worked deftly to tie your shoe, the knot firm yet careful.
“Thank you,” you said, your smile soft and genuine, appreciating his thoughtful gesture. He returned the warmth with an easy smile of his own. “No problem,” he replied with smile.
Netflix editors made it funnier by cutting to Lando rolling his eyes as he walked past you.
[episode two]
The atmosphere in the McLaren garage was relaxed as you lounged before practice. Lando, leaned over with his phone in his hand, sly grin across his face.
“Y/n, look what Oscar sent me,” he said, showing you a TikTok video that was anything but innocent. You couldn’t help but laugh at the dirty text, but before you could say anything, Oscar’s voice cut through the moment.
“I already apologized!” he exclaimed, his face flushed with embarrassment as he overheard your conversation. His reaction only made the situation funnier, and you burst into laughter.
“How can this even happen?” you managed to say through fits of laughter, struggling to catch your breath.
Oscar, still blushing furiously, threw his hands up in defense. “It was an incident!” he protested, his voice almost cracking under the weight of his embarrassment, which only made you laugh harder.
As you and Lando laughed, the editors cut to Oscar, subtitles read: [tremendous embarrassment]
[episode three]
Before the race, the cameras captured a quiet yet heartfelt moment. You carefully adjusted Oscar’s helmet, ensuring everything was perfect. Satisfied with your work, you smiled warmly at him. “Good luck,” you said, pressing a light kiss on his helmet.
“Thank you,” he replied softly, his voice full of gratitude. Then, with a tender smile under the helmer, he added, “I love you, babe.” The simplicity of his words carried the weight of something steady and true.
After this clip was published, fans went crazy and it became viral on tiktok.
[episode four]
Oscar had done it—his first Grand Prix win, a moment he’d dreamed of and worked tirelessly for. The roar of the crowd faded into the background as he climbed out of the car, his eyes immediately scanning for you. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward you, his emotions overwhelming him.
Before you could say a word, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you, the world seeming to pause in that heart-stopping moment. The victory was his, but the celebration was yours together.
While you celebrated his achievement, the camera cut to Nicole and Hattie doing heart from hands as they pointed at you two.
[episode five]
Oscar moved through the fan zone with ease, signing caps and shirts as he greeted the crowd. In his hand, his phone rested casually, the screen occasionally lighting up with his touch. Each time it did, it revealed his wallpaper—a candid photo of you, beaming with joy as you cuddled your dog. It was a quiet reminder of what grounded him amid the chaos of his world, a glimpse of the happiness he cherished most.
Fans took photos and posted it online saying, “He loves her so much it can’t be even real.”
[episode six]
With the cameras buzzing in the McLaren garage, the two of you had too much time on your hands. Oscar was focused, attempting to braid your hair—a task far more challenging than he anticipated.
“Oh my god, this is so hard! It’s like a puzzle,” he groaned, frustration clear in his tone.
You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You drive a F1 car and can’t do a braid? Osc, c’mon,” you teased, your grin widening as his struggles made the moment all the more entertaining.
Netflix narrative saying, “Let’s hope Oscar is not hairdresser in his next life.”
[episode seven]
The interviewer beamed as they addressed Oscar, “So Oscar, great job today, your first pole position, how do you feel?”
Oscar’s smile was radiant as he replied, “Yeah, just great... the car, the team,” but his gaze shifted, seeking you out in the crowd. His expression softened even more as his eyes landed on you. “My girlfriend’s here, so it’s the best,” he added, his grin unmistakably proud.
The camera panned to you, catching the sweet moment as you blew him a playful kiss, drawing even more smiles from the onlookers.
“Would you say your girlfriend is your biggest supporter?” the interviewer pressed.
Without hesitation, Oscar nodded. “Definitely, she’s just perfect,” he said, his voice brimming with sincerity and affection. It was a small yet touching moment that reflected how much you meant to him.
Fans kept saying in comments under this clip when F1 posted it, “May this love attack me.”
#formula 1#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#mclaren formula 1#mclaren formula one#mclaren#f1 imagine#f1 writing#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#bahrain gp 2025
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You're cooking with that gym one.. keep going
Here is my submission for you anon.
John rubbed tiredly at his face. His feet pressed in turn to the rotating belt of the treadmill. He did not want to be here.
Base doc told him he wouldn't be getting clearance to go back on jobs until he got is cholesterol down. He, wisely, did not question how his cholesterol could be high when the only things he consumed were cigars, toast, and coffee.
Having tried the base gym a few times he found it...full of distractions.
If he could be found on base he had everyone, including the devil, showing up at his side. If it wasn't questions, it was paperwork. He fucking hated paperwork.
Gym etiquette said to, when possible, leave a machine open between you and the next person over on treadmills. You had already been on a machine when he arrived. John walked with no music. Oppositely you jived and mouthed along with whatever you were listening to. He appreciated that you didn't sing as you walked. Soap's of kilter voice drifting from the showers was more than enough.
John lifted a brow at the young man who stepped onto the machine between you and him. The man didn't spare him a glance. John shrugged. He maintained his pace, eyes fixed on the news. Damn he should start bringing his glasses. Those subtitles were stretching his limits of vision.
"Come on, just talk to me already!"
The man beside him shouted. John turned in time to see the man hit the off button and step off the treadmill. Glancing at you he his concern rises. Tight jaw, nose flaring wide as you suck in breaths, and white knuckles gripping the arms of the machine tell him a lot.
When the man appears before your treadmill John is already reaching for his off button. He's a bastard. His ex-wives agreed on that, but this was unacceptable behavior.
You surprise both men when you rip your headphones off.
"I know you don't listen to your mother either, but let's see if your kindergarten teacher was right about you being a good student." A look of disgust adds sting to the words you whip at the man. "If a woman is ignoring you, she's busy. When a woman gives you a closed mouth smile after you attempt to flirt she is uncomfortable but won't say so because she doesn't want to be raped or murdered in the next alley over. Now unless you have something of value to provide to society as a whole, you will get out my face."
All that said without you missing a step.
"God, no need to be a bitch," the man sneered up at you. "I was going to tell you I thought you were beautiful."
"Women are only beautiful when you want to stick your dick in them. Buy a flesh light instead and leave women alone. Leave me alone." You throw up double middle fingers at him.
The fucktard shouted hate as he stalked away.
John, no longer tired, laughed so hard he started to cough. He paused his machine. Covering his mouth with a fist he laughed again when he could breathe. You are staring at him when he looks up. Distrust paints the color of your eyes.
"His kindergarten teacher?" He asked, starting to chuckle again.
The tension melts away from your shoulders. The tip of your tongue makes an appearance on your lip as you give him a sheepish look. You open and close your mouth as your fingers work themselves into knots.
"So ya see..." You can't finish your thought before you are laughing too.
"I'm John," he offers you a hand to shake over the empty machine.
"Good to meet you, John," you shake his hand and give him your name in return.
"That happen to you often? If so, I would love to witness more of you cutting men off at the knees." John can't help but smile, full and wide at the embarrassment that sparks through your posture.
You sigh through your nose.
"More often than I care for," you admit.
"Well, if you need a gym buddy I am in need of a good laugh," John pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to you to add your phone number.
"I am at your service, John. My misfortune is yours to witness," you pass the phone back with a flourish.
John can't remember the last time he laughed so much.
Gym Adventures:
SoapGaz | Simon | Phillip Graves | Ghost | 4 for 1 Special | SoapGaz/Reader NSFW | Phillip Graves NSFW | AO3
#cod#fanfiction#cod x reader#john price x reader#price x reader#captain john price#john price#captain price x reader#price x you#price cod
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(please) spare me indignity
masterlist
pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader
summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.
a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero
wc: 5k
warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet

You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies.
You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it.
You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box.
There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy.
He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break.
“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”
You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”
“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”
He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.”
“What are you, a broken record?”
“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?”
“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.”
“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well.
“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.”
“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”
“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?”
It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.
“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.”
You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open.
It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good.
You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home.
You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere.
This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.
Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.
“What?” you ask.
“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”
“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”
“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”
Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.
“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”
Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”
You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”
“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”
“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away.
You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would.
It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again.
“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out.
You frown. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”
“Why not?” you ask.
“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!”
“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”
“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”
“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.”
He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it.
“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask.
“No,” he says.
“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.”
“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before.
“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”
“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says.
Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.
“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”
Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—
“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.
“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”
Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it.
“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”
“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”
“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”
You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest.
“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.”
You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back.
You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.
Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?
You, apparently.
You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason.
If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him.
Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself.
You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care.
You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away.
“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls.
You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly.
A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person.
“Can I help at all?”
This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”
Again, more silence.
“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”
You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”
“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”
The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”
“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”
“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”
You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.”
-
You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off.
It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are.
Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?
You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room.
“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn.
“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—”
You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look.
“I’m so good at so many other things.”
“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?”
“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”
“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask.
He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.”
“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”
“Then open a window.”
“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says.
“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation.
Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”
You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize.
“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.”
“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.”
“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.”
You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you.
“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one.
“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.”
You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it.
“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks.
“Fine,” you say.
He frowns. “Really?”
“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.”
“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—”
“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt.
“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says.
You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”
“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”
“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?”
“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—”
“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.”
“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.”
“Am I not allowed to joke?”
“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.”
“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.”
He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?”
“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.”
“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—”
“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?”
“A couple spoonfuls but—”
“Spoonfuls?”
“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends.
“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask.
“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”
“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.”
He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.”
Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?”
“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.”
“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you.
“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says.
“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?”
Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.”
You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine.
“Do they have any leads?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.”
You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?”
“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.”
“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than usual, but you drink it anyway.
“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.”
“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.”
“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.”
“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.”
“Then don’t say everything so seriously.”
You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out.
“Want one?”
“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.”
“You should.”
“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock.
“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.”
You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?”
Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.”
You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.”
“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response.
It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now.
Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that.
You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.
-
Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much.
It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever.
But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him.
This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.
Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true.
Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace.
But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion.
He always notices your eyes.
Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?”
“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”
“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.”
Spencer sits up. “What is it?”
“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.”
“Who is it?” he asks.
“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—”
“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.”
“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?”
“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”
Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”
“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks.
“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.”
“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”
“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.”
“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?”
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.”
“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”
“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”
Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.”
“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.”
There’s nothing but silence on the other end.
“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—”
“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.”
“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—”
“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?”
“...Some,” Spencer says.
“Like?”
Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him.
“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.”
“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.”
Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.”
“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.
“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says.
“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.”
“Spencer—”
“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?”
“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”
Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him.
His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom.
Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you.
He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach.
“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear.
“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters.
He hangs up without another word.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#gideon!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds angst#x reader#sadie writes#and yes. reader heard spencer's whole side of the convo<3
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Big Moana 2 Spoilers ahead. Beyond the cut is the Samoan to english translation of maui's 2nd song for moana. (And the context it appears in)
youtube
ladies and gents of the moana fandom, thanks to the effort of samoan speaker @yuki685 on youtube, and my buddy @rykierykerman for hooking me up with the text and screenshots
what i'd like to discuss with yall today is not only sharing the translation for this song, but some of the character implication this has for maui, especially when you look at how his OG legends depict him.
LYRICS:
(Maui singing in Samoan):
Aue, aue, le faigata / Aue, aue, how difficult it is
Ua pa'ū fa'anoanoa / Falling into sadness
Aue, aue, fa'ataga ola / Aue, aue, please allow this life to continue
Lenā La'u talosaga / This is my prayer
---
(E manu malo) / May there be blessings
(Opataia Foa'i and Te Vaka singing in Tokelauan)
Tele tele mana e o te vavau (Vavau) / Great, great power of mana
Tau ke tu ke Manumalo / Fight, stand tall and be victorious
Ke Manumalo / Be victorious
---
(Grandma Tala)
Aue, aue, mana e o te vavau / Aue, aue, the power of mana
Tau ke tu ke Manumalo / Fight, stand tall and be victorious
Ke Manumalo / Be victorious
Ke Manumalo / Be victorious
Ke Manumalo / Be victorious
_____

The piece that made me flip my shit when I read it was the confirmation that this song is a PRAYER
when I first heard this song before the movie I assumed it was a funeral rite. a dirge, followed by a choral revival. during the film, when maui and then the ancestors sang it over moana's lifeless body and I had no subtitles to go on, I thought perhaps it was a spell, or maybe a lullaby from Maui's far distant past, then taken up by the ancestors as a comfort to the grieving Maui- then back to the spell theory as Moana awoke to the powerful music and emotion channeled by tala and her crew.
even my first google translate search of the lyrics missed the word prayer, which goes to show that AI translation is no match for native human insight.
Maui's song being a prayer is a friggin big deal.
Maui's stories span the width & breadth of the pacific islands, and each culture arising from those island tells variations on that legend. some emphasize his rebellious side, others his inventiveness, still others his drive, his humor, his ingenuity, his pride. But a common theme in most is that this man, this demigod- he does NOT get along with the majority of his ancestors or the gods. Even when he's not outright malevolent to them, he's tricking them or undermining their effort. He's usually stubbornly self-sufficient, if he gets help from someone divine, its usually because he tricked them into doing it. Maui does not beg, he does not plead. (at least, not with any lasting sincerity). he's a charmer, a schemer.
But here he is, his tattoos stripped away, his hook gone, his beloved Moana growing colder and colder- he's out of tricks. he's out of time, out of power. he's as helpless as the day he was thrown into the ocean to save her. rock bottom, figuratively and literally.
he does the absolute last thing he can, born of pure desperation. pure grief, pure need. He prays.
he prays not expecting an answer. he prays, knowing that the gods and all his family would relish the chance to tell him to fuck all the way off. he prays, even if to no one but moana's lifeless body.
i often joke that maui is bad at feelings. but really what i mean is that maui is bad at regulating his feelings. he represses them as hard as he can, denies them, wraps them in humor and when that fails he straight up tries to out run them. its a maladaptive coping skill he's had to pick up over his immortal 3000 year lifespan because otherwise, he'd be wallowing in endless grief as friend after friend either dies or lives long enough to become his antagonist. boy has some serious trauma built up and no good examples of how to handle it in a healthy way.
until moana.
moana provided an example of how to be vulnerable without being weak. a safe space where he could share his heart and be met with understanding and validation. we see him mature, even fractionally, and in the sequel he's not nearly so closed off. he worries openly about moana, admits his concerns about the mission, even returns moana's favor from the first film and gives her a sincere, supportive pep talk.
but all his progress in processing his emotions seems to backfire in this moment. the first time he'd opened his heart to a fragile mortal friend and here he is, exactly as he feared, devastated at her passing. He had invested real time and care and attachment into this human and he's utterly shattered that its all coming to an end so fast. that he'll never experience her voice or her smile or her wit ever again.
she's precious to him. he cant bear to lose her. his sadness in more crushing than the ocean he's surrounded by, denser than the rock he kneels upon. even if he got his powers back, even if he pulled up a million islands, if Moana isn't there to land on them...there's no point.
less than 10 minutes ago he was ready to die for her.
3 minutes ago in movie time, maui faced his own mortality. powers stripped bare, down to his last ounce of strength, frying in impossible lightning heat, he kept struggling. the first look he gives moana is fear, raw and unfamiliar on that handsome face. but in this penultimate moment, his eyes meet moana's. his grimace gentles, eyebrows lift, gaze softens into a regretful, heart melting smile. he finds small comfort in seeing moana for one last time, seeing her unhurt, hearing her call his name. the rope slips from his grip, and somewhere in the milliseconds between lightning flashes, he relaxes, relief skitters across his features. perhaps he thinks "ahh, at least she's ok." "at least she'll outlive me". perhaps he has a moment of acceptance for his fate, knowing she's proud of him, knowing he did his very best. maybe he thinks ,"this way ill be sure to meet her again, in the afterlife. its for the best."
or maybe, just maybe, he thinks
"see you out there, moana."
but now, 3 minutes later, its once again the worst case scenario. any relief he had in that last smile at her is obliterated in the wake of his grief. its once again the worst case scenario. he's not thinking now of the curse being broken or his hook or his tattoos. a world that she's not in, whether he be human or demigod, is not a world he can stand to exist in. he cant do this without her. he needs her.
so he digs deep inside himself, through the pain or losing her, through his own family trauma and antagonism towards authority, and pride, to beg, on his knees for help from a higher power. its unclear to us if he's intending to pray to the gods or to his own ancestors or both or neither. to anyone who can help. to anyone who will listen.
and its neither of those sources who answer, at least, not as directly as matai vasa or tala do. its moana's kin, her loved ones, (eventually including the ocean), who answer from the great beyond. he looks them in the eyes and they weep with him. they sing power over moana and the impossible happens.
(salacious handholding occurs)
the stars are put back in maui's eyes, the sun back into his sky.
does this mean...
yes.
his tattoos are still cooler than hers.
even when theyre mad at him. (same, little guy, same.)
bruh.
now kiss
#moana#maui#moana 2#moana 2 spoilers#hooked wayfinder#moaui#maumoa#moana x maui#maui x moana#essay#shipping essay#cultural context#big honkin spoilers
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On the outside, your boyfriend Katsuki might’ve seemed like he hated trying new things—and that might’ve been true, if it weren’t for you.
Especially today, considering it was your culture's New Year .
Back home, it had always been a big celebration. Your family would invite too many friends over than you could fit in your house, a small gathering turning full blown party. Women gathered in corners to gossip, men sprawled across sofas with plates piled high, and children racing through the halls with squeals and laughter.
Now, it was just you.
To be fair, that part of your culture wasn’t the center of your life anymore. Not since you moved to Japan. For the last few years, you could at least visit home. But this year, with your schedule packed and your workload overwhelming, traveling wasn’t even a remote possibility.
And so you sat alone on your couch, homesick in a way that crept up slow and heavy—grief for a moment that was still happening, just without you.
Today was supposed to be full of celebration. But instead, you were alone.
That is, until three sharp knocks pulled you out of your haze.
Dragging yourself to the door, you opened it—and blinked in surprise.
Katsuki?
Your boyfriend stood there, looking his usual amount of annoyed, but there was something softer in his eyes. He held out a large food container, his ears tinged red as he looked anywhere but at you.
“Happy New Year… or whatever, idiot,” he muttered. “Figured you’d be cryin’ on your ass eventually, so I made you somethin’.”
He brushed past you into your apartment like it wasn’t the most intimate thing anyone’s done for you in a long while.
You opened the lid. The smell hit first—familiar, spicy, home. It took you a second to even recognize the dish, one you hadn’t tasted since last year’s visit. And even longer to realize you were crying.
Katsuki didn’t say anything. He just stepped close and wiped your tears with both hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks before resting there, warm and steady.
“Oi. None of that shit,” he grumbled, soft and gruff. “I came here to celebrate with you, not make you cry.”
You laughed—just a little. A short breath of sound. But your chest felt lighter already.
You set the container down and leaned up to kiss him, a gentle press of gratitude and affection. He kissed you back like it was instinct, wrapping his arms around your waist, drawing you in close, his hands rubbing soft, grounding circles into your hips.
When you pulled back, his expression had softened completely. That usual scowl had melted into something tender.
“Thank you, Katsuki. Really, I mean it, I—” But he silenced you with a another searing kiss.
“No need to thank me,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “Figured I’d learn how t’make your food anyways… good opportunity.”
You laughed again, a little louder this time, heart swelling.
The rest of the night was spent curled together on the couch, sharing the food he brought, watching one of your favorite movies from back home—this time with Japanese subtitles.
For the first time in years, your apartment didn’t feel empty. It felt like home.
The smell of familiar spices filled the air. You danced with Katsuki in your living room to songs only you knew, his grumbles drowned out by your laughter.
It wasn’t a big party. There were no screaming kids, no gossipy relatives asking when you were getting married, no loud countdowns.
But you weren’t alone this time.
And that made all the difference.
A/N: in honor of tamil new year today!! happy new year to those who celebrate hehe
#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugou x female reader#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou x fem!reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo x you#katsuki bakugo x female reader#katsuki x y/n#bakugo katsuki x you#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#⋆。‧˚ʚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Baby Whisperer
Early seasons pregnant JJ where will doesn't want the kid (no hate on will or nun) but yn takes JJ in cus they're in looove and they becaome a baby whispererer
Warnings: internalized homophobia so brief l, love Will right? But he's kinda an ass, so don't hate me and go saying I hate Will cus I don't. I love Will lamon-I need subtitles to understand him only sometimes-Tage.
A/n~ chat this has been in my drafts for months soooo I finally ended it so enjoy
Walking in, Y/n wasn't really expecting to run into a crying JJ in the garage. The woman looked absolutely destroyed and like she just needed anyone.
That's how she found herself in the parking lot of a local burger joint with the blonde. "Now...I only got us an extra hour before we have to go in....do you wanna talk about it?"
Y/n liked to approach everything carefully. It wasn't always her place, but she knew sometimes everyone wanted just someone else's company. She was honestly prepared for JJ to say that it was just a rough morning and she'd be over it in no time.
"I'm pregnant and Will left." She whispered. Trying with everything in her not to start crying again, especially when they were at her favorite burger place. "He..he said that he wasn't ready for a kid and I am. He said I could've have the kid, but if I did..."
"He'd walk..."
"I'm going to have nowhere to go. I can't afford a place on such short notice. I can't do that all and still worry about my job. I just...I can handle a lot. That's what my job is..but I-"
"Come stay with me." Y/n threw it out before she could even think it over. Her mouth just moved on it own. "I have two sore rooms. One can be yours and we'll make the other a nursery."
JJ furrowed her brows and was flushing red. "I-I couldn't ask that much of you."
"Yes you can. And you're not asking me. You would do the same if it was the other way around." Y/n took a bite of her burger. Eyes not daring to meet the blue ones that were for sure staring down her every move.
"What's in it for you though? I mean, nobody offers without anything in return." The blonde raised the question.
The short black bob shook. "I'm getting to know you and whoever you," she pointed towards her belly, "will be are safe every night. Plus, I'm kinda a baby whisperer so it'll give me the chance to get solid evidence."
A soft smile formed on the blondes lips. "And that's it? No other strings attached?"
"All you should have to worry about is taking care of yourself. I'm just here to help make it easier."
"Deal then." JJ agreed. "What if though-"
"Usually when people say deal they don't add any conditions after." Y/n had a sly smile on her face.
JJ was quick to throw her arm to wack the other's. "In return you get God parent privileges?"
Y/n was also quick, quick to shake her head. "There's nothing in it for me. That's my conditions. Plus Penelope would be on me for that title. All I truly will take is knowing you're safe."
JJ waited and watched for any sign that she could be lying. That there was some second meaning to this offer....but there wasn't. Y/n was honest in what she wanted.
"Alrighty then. I'll move in with you." JJ gave in fully.
~
By then end of the day, the two had everything planned out. They spent most of their time in JJ's office discussing how move in would work and how quick they wanted to get it done.
"No! You're not gonna carry everything. I may be pregnant but I'm not that type of pregnant yet." JJ folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. They had been bickering over a lot of things. Mostly because Y/n kept offering to be so nice.
The brunette shrugged, "well what if you carry the lighter boxes then? I just..I don't want you to strain yourself. Eventually, that baby is going to grow and your back will forever hurt. I'm trying to keep you free from that ache early."
"And I appreciate it, but I'm still going to do this job aren't I? I'm going to ache no matter what. You have to let me have some lee way still." JJ held her ground.
Y/n threw her hands up into surrender. "Ok. You tell me what you still want to be able to do, and I'll try my best to not helicopter around."
There was a knock at the door. It caused both woman to sit up and glance towards the piece of wood. Finding Penelope staring at the notepads on the desk. "What's this about?" She moved quick over to the papers.
She didn't get a chance to look as they both grabbed them from view. "Our marriage contract." Y/n was quick to drop. "We're writing what we won't do, it's mostly our worst habits."
"Oh...ok well Will is here to talk to you." She informed before giving one last suspicious look. "What are you two up to?"
"Thank you Penelope," Y/n hummed before looked back to the other blonde. "This is my cue to leave. Let me know what happens..."
Y/n bowed her head before leaving. Pushing Penelope away as well. They walked back towards the bullpen, passing Will on the way. Y/n couldn't help the look she gave him. JJ held him in high praise, so to think he would walk was crazy.
JJ was still holding the notepad when Will walked in. "We need to talk about this morning. I wasn't thinking but I don't think you are either." He began. "We're too young to have a baby Jayge! We shouldn't spend all that money now. Let's just wait a few more years. Get married first maybe?"
She took a deep breath in as the tears stung her eyes. "I want this baby. And if you don't, then you won't have anything to do with this baby."
"You will have nothing without me." He spat in defense. And for a moment, he swore he was right. That she wouldn't have anywhere to go. That she needed him.
"I don't need you. And especially with that tone, I will never need you. If you don't want to be a father yet, then you can leave." She shot him down almost instantly. Eyes trained to the window.
There was silence as he stood there. He huffed and rubbed his eyes. "You can't seriously be throwing away our relationship for a baby? It's still my baby."
She shook her head, "no. This is my baby. You have now openly said you don't want any child. So once again, I don't need you. We don't need you." Her voice was vicious as she bit him. Practically hearing his defeat before moving towards the door.
"You're gonna regret this. You're gonna need me." He pointed one last time.
Y/n laughed from behind him. "The only one who needs anything is you. And you need to leave." She folded her arms over her chest as the man left the building in a fit of rage.
JJ let her head drop into her hands as she started crying. Y/n was quick to close the door and draw the blinds. Giving the two perfect privacy as she came around and hugged the blonde. Letting her cry it out.
~
A few weeks go by, and JJ had been moved in to Y/n's place. "Ya' know, I didn't think you'd have a house."
"Really? I give apartment to you or what?" Y/n carried a few boxes up to the extra room. Training days with Morgan always seems to pay off.
JJ shrugged as she just followed behind. "I guess so. Why do you have a house? It's just you no?" The extra room was big. Bigger than what JJ had taken an extra room for. "No. It's too much."
"You already unloaded all your boxes. You're staying. And plus, I like having room to have people over, or to run around naked." Y/n winked over her shoulder. "You settle in, I'm going to cook dinner."
"And she cooks?" JJ furrowed her brows. Y/n has mentioned how she couldn't cook compared to Rossi, which JJ assumed meant she couldn't cook.
But the first night was all the evidence she needed. The host made orange chicken and it was beyond any takeout the blondes ever had. Even the rice was delicious. Too distracted by the food to even notice that Y/n left more for her than herself.
~
Four months had gone by and the two moved like a couple. From JJ's perspective, this was just Y/n being helpful.
Every morning she would wake to the smell of some breakfast and coffee. Trudging out, Y/n would be dancing around with her headphones on as she plated the dish of the morning. She would be in nothing but an oversized shirt.
That's how their mornings would all start. Having breakfast together.
Then they would drive to work and act just like colleagues. Minus how Y/n would always know exactly what JJ was craving and had it right when she wanted it. There they would eat lunch in the blondes office while discussing the work drama.
Y/n would leave the office by two and head back to her own desk. Working in silence as she thought of what she would be making for dinner.
"We're heading to lunch you coming?" Emily would offer by three.
"No I already ate with JJ. We had classic pb&j's." Y/n answered, reminiscing in how good they were.
Derek scoffed with a laugh, "you tryna steal the spot of baby daddy or something? Spoiling her left and right."
"Mm, I got that spot within the second month. Baby whisperer remember?" She smiled up from her papers.
"I'll believe it when I see it," Derek flicked her forehead. He moved faster so Y/n would have to actually get up and chase him.
She did get up, sending him a mean glare. "You're lucky my senses are tingling and I bet you right now, she needs something."
That's when JJ came in, "Y/n could you come help me for a sec?"
That stumped Derek, he didn't know if she was serious about the sense or if it was perfect timing. But he left with everyone else for lunch as the two headed to the file room.
JJ needed a box of old files and it was just slightly out of reach and she wasn't in the mood to try and reach for it. Her back had been killing her all day.
The box was heavy as Y/n carried it to her office. "That back still hurting?" JJ groaned, answering the question without words. "Come here, I saw this on Facebook."
JJ came closer, standing right in front of Y/n a bit confused. With a twirl of the brunettes finger, her back now faced her front. Leaving her blind to Y/n coming up behind her and her hands coming to hold her belly. Lifting it a bit and releasing the stress and tension on her back. The feeling made her practically moan and melt into Y/n.
"This is so being added into our daily routine." She hummed. JJ had closed her eyes and let her head lull back to rest on the shoulder. "Five minutes like this ok?"
Y/n chuckled, but had agreed. The two stood in the middle of the office in silence. Y/n enjoying being helpful, and JJ enjoying the weightless feeling.
It even was mentioned during dinner prep. It's what they did, JJ would sit on the backside of the couch and look at the files she brought home, while Y/n did wonders in the kitchen.
First it starts with getting drinks out. JJ had juice while Y/n had wine. Sipping on it slowly as she prepped the Thai noodles.
"So," JJ had came over from the living room. "If I told you my back was aching again?" She was given a laugh which told her she needed to do more. It's how her head ended up on Y/n's shoulder and her arms wrapped around her.
"Ya' know the roles are supposed to be revered right? I'm supposed to hold you not the other way around? And I am cooking, if you can get through dinner I will sit behind you and hold your baby ok?"
"Deal." She placed a kiss to Y/n's cheek before slipping back to the couch. Missing the blush that arose mere seconds after her lips left.
Later, JJ had been in her room lying when she thought of how much Y/n was doing. It made her heart beat a little faster than normal. Which she assumed woke the baby as he began to kick.
It kept her up and wasn't very comfortable either. She knew Y/n said anything wouldn't be a bother, but what could Y/n do about this even if she did go over to the room. It couldn't hurt she figured, maybe there was something Y/n could do.
She crept through the dark house, realizing just how quiet of a person Y/n was. The sound only being the faint tv noises coming from the bedroom. Giving the door a soft knock, JJ pushed it open more and peeked in.
From the bed, a sleepy Y/n stared over at the door. "Jayge? What's wrong? Are you ok?" She sat up and scooted over, patting the large bed next to her.
"The baby, he's awake and kicking...you said you were a baby whisperer?" She came up to the bed, crawling into the comfortable sheets where Y/n was lying. Feeling her warmth still linger.
Y/n hummed as they both got comfortable, then she slid to rest her head against the belly. Whispering out of JJ's hearing, but within minutes, he was still again.
JJ tried to pick up on the vibrations, hoping they could give any distinction on the words but it was useless. So she just let them carry her to sleep, knowing another day of work waited her.
Meanwhile Y/n was mumbling over what honey was and how it tastes in tea. Even offering to make him some in the morning instead of the coffee. Which she also apologized for assuming he would want coffee. She also mumbled about the different breakfast choices. Eventually drifting off to sleep herself.
~
JJ woke up first that morning, finding Y/n to be practically molded around the belly and so incredibly close to her. She could feel the extra body heat and enjoyed how it felt. She also enjoyed how Y/n's bed felt.
She realized this was the first time since moving in she was up before Y/n. Even on cases Y/n was up before her.
"My senses are tingling?" Y/n groggily spoke. "He wants the tea I told him about."
JJ felt a kick at the words. Making her question if it was witchcraft or Y/n actual was a baby whisperer. "He doesn't even know what tea is?"
"Yeah he does, I told him all about it. Just like I told him about honey. He really likes the sound of it." Y/n slipped from the bed, her hand delicately caressing the exposed skin of the belly.
The action made JJ shiver and the baby kick. "What else did you tell him about?" She let her hand fall to her stomach and began to get up with the other.
"I told him about music and what's the right type of music, also about what's the best type of fashion." Y/n rambled as she led them to the kitchen. Beginning to make the tea.
JJ frowned at the new choice. "What if I don't want tea? I like my morning coffee," she complained. Knowing that no matter what, Y/n always claimed to know what was 'gonna do it' for her, and she was usually right. "What are you putting in it?"
"It's with honey, sugar, and a dash of cinnamon. You'll love it just as much as he will. I've never steered us wrong and you can bet today won't be the day." She joked from the counter, rummaging to find the kettle that was tucked away.
When she pulled it out, JJ almost laughed audibly. "There's no way you're gonna use that?"
Y/n shot a look over her shoulder, "you seriously don't trust my ways?" She kept working with the kettle. Filling it before setting it on the stove. "He can tell you it's the right way even." The baby kicked and a new smile formed on Y/n's face.
JJ was entranced by it as the brunette came over. Crouching in front of her and whispering again to her belly. And it was the blonde who was smiling even wider. Y/n was an absolute wizard with the baby. Things just seemed to get so much easier for the both of them.
The moment made her think though. Would Y/n stick around even after the baby was born? Why wouldn't she though? Nobody's ever shown this much attention to JJ, let alone her baby. She was thriving in it and she hoped she would still get this side of Y/n.
The screeching of the kettle brought her back and she just barely processed the fingertips sliding from her sides. Had Y/n been holding her hips?
"Have you thought of any names yet?" Y/n let the question slip out as she poured the steaming water. "I know it's still early, but five months."
"Honestly? No. Usually it's something you would discuss with the other person...a unanimous agreement." She sighed as the tea was brought over. Bringing her nose down close to the mug, she smelt the steaming liquid. "This smells...amazing."
Y/n smirked, "I told you I knew what I was doing. And you do realize not every baby has two parents deciding their names. This is your bundle of joy, you name him whatever you want. Just nothing with some dumb spelling."
JJ laughed lightly at that. "I know, but...I always thought I'd be having a kid with someone who I was married to. The whole traditional family." Y/n rolled her eyes. "What?"
"I just think...traditional isn't the best for you. I mean think 'bout it...you're about to become a single mother in the FBI. Life threw you a curve ball, but you're about to knock it out of the park."
"A baseball reference really?"
"Yeah not my best moment but my point is, you should get the reward of naming him what you want. He's yours till forever." Y/n reasoned, meeting the blue oceans with a soft gaze.
The conversation got lost as they just stared in silence at one another. Y/n always looked at JJ with so much care. She's shown it enough that the blonde sometimes feels guilty for how much of Y/n's attention she holds...but she'd be upset if it was on anyone else. It was wrong, especially because they weren't dating. Not that...JJ would..it had to be the hospitality getting to her.
Y/n sighed before grabbing her mug and opening the fridge. "I'm thinking French toast with some fruit? Extra sweet? Oooh and maybe some icing." She thought out loud. Humming in delight when JJ huffed at the baby kick.
The rest of the morning was natural. They ate breakfast and chatted for a bit before going upstairs to change. That's how everyday started.
But the mornings conversation trailed around JJ all day. Even her following thoughts. Suddenly everything was being questioned by her. From Y/n to bringing lunch, to her driving them home again with her hand on the clutch.
Another night, when once again, the baby was up and kicking. It also became a regular occurrence. Soon, JJ just ended up following Y/n to her room.
"Ya' know, when I offered an extra bedroom, I didn't mean mine." Y/n joked as they were getting ready to settle down for the night.
"Five months ago was so long ago though. Plus, he likes you talking him back to sleep. You truly are a baby whisperer." The blonde tried to reach the straps on her heels, groaning when she couldn't.
It was the tiny things that Y/n noticed. Once the bed creaked, she was over and kneeling to take off the shoes. Doing it before she could even realize she was.
JJ would've described it as a domestic moment. And when the thought crossed her mind, her heart thumped in her chest.
"Yeah, I'm great." She hummed in agreement. Y/n stood back up and was looking down at JJ now. Her content smile slowly fading. "I'm always gonna be here for you, you know that right?"
The words were just that. Words. Yet, JJ felt them strike her heart and shake her spine. It had to be the hormones that moved her to tears though. "You mean it?"
A hesitant hand came up to her cheek, it was warm and soothing. "I do, I don't plan on leaving your side any time soon. I promise. I pinky promise you Jayge."
Y/n pulled her hand back and held up her pinky. Expecting the woman to just connect hers, but was greeted with a tight hug as JJ cried into her shoulder. The brunette held her head close to her while the other wrapped around her back.
That was the night that they both knew their relationship was bound to change. Both cared and needed the other.
Although, the change brought tension to the breakfast table that morning. Not bad tension, just tension. Neither one could say anything or stop looking at the other.
Y/n took it as the ultimate test as well. To see if she was truly a baby whisperer without talking to JJ. Through all the staring, Y/n had managed to decide on a breakfast.
Cooking in silence, she began to get lost in her work. Humming a sweet little tune as she swayed at the stove. Continuing her tune as she played the homemade breakfast sandwiches.
Usually in the morning, the two sit across from each other, but today Y/n nodded towards the couch. Leading over and dropping her plate before going back for drinks.
They sat thigh to thigh as they ate. The only noise was JJ's hum and her 'oof' at the aggressive baby kick. He also seemed to enjoy it.
Their silence traveled with them through the day. When they got ready, Y/n knew JJ's routine flawlessly and had anything she needed at the ready. The car ride to work? Only the radio spoke as Y/n drove their normal path. Her hand itched to leave the clutch and rest on JJ's thighs.
One thing Y/n wasn't ready for, was how cute JJ actually would look pregnant. It wasn't like she wasn't cute before, JJ's always been adorable in Y/n's eyes. But this, this was the softest looking Jennifer she had ever met.
By the time they got to the parking garage, they had a few minutes to spare. So they sat in silence and stared at each other once again. Both looking like they were trying to figure out the other. Yet, they never figured anything out as they had to go in.
~
Another month had gone by. Emily grabbed her bag as she was ready to leave for the day. "I'm going home and never coming back. This week has been so shitty." She groaned.
"Sounds like you need a drink," Derek smirked. He too had his bag in hand. "I'm sure Penelope and Spencer would love to come with."
"Not even gonna invite Y/n?" Emily nodded towards the still focused agent. Not leaving room for his answer as she came towards the desk. Tapping her out of her trance. "You wanna come with?"
"I'm on baby whisperer duties. JJ has been struggling to sleep since he keeps kicking around nine. I'm the one who talks him and her to sleep." She explained her situation. Not really minding that she'd miss another night out.
Derek squinted his eyes. "One, this is why I wasn't gonna invite her. Always on baby duties. And two, you're all this talk about being a baby whisperer but we've never seen it in action. JJ hasn't even confirmed this once in her six months."
"Well then let me confirm it now. Because id be absolutely exhausted without her. She explains what such simple things are and then she knows. She knows what this baby likes and wants." The blonde came out with her bag, handing it to Y/n's expecting hand. "And these? JJ sense's? It's like having a personal telepath."
Spencer rose up now, "do you really believe in telepaths though? Especially to a baby? How can you be so sure?"
"Well I can tell you right now, that for dinner we're having honey chicken biscuits on his request." Y/n's thumb rolled to point towards JJ's belly. And on cue, he kicked.
She shook her head and smiled. "Like a personal telepath. We are heading out though, I now know what's for dinner and we're both hungry."
"Baby whisperer," Y/n whispered as she wiggled her fingers before following out the blonde.
The team watched the two leave. Sharing the same thought. "They're so in love," Penelope spoke it out loud though.
Back home, the two sat and laughed over everything from the day. They never ran out of something to talk about. And they wouldn't once the baby was born.
"So, six months. Third trimester. Three months till you'll be asked for his name....any ideas?" Y/n pried from her seat. She sat criss cross to be able to look at the blonde.
JJ sighed on the topic again. "I mean a few but none that have tugged at me and stood out. What about you? Have you been thinking?"
"Mm JJ last month would've said this is a partner discussion. Why's this month asking else wise?" Y/n dug into the words. Meaning it in such a playful manner.
JJ laughed along, trying to ignore her heart beat. "Well you've done nothing but tend to me for the past six months. So you should get some say."
There was a hum in agreement. "I've thought a little bit, and all I thought of was Dakota or Henry." Y/n truthfully answered. Knowing that the decision was going to be JJ's no matter what.
"I like the sound of Henry, actually. How'd you think of it?" The blonde stood from her spot, knowing he would begin to kick again within a few minutes.
Y/n yawned, "I didn't think of it, he picked it." She so simply stated before her hands fell to JJ's back, pushing her towards the stairs. "I'm telling you, our best conversations are after you fall asleep."
"Listen, I've been with you on the whole baby whisperer but there's no way he chose his name." JJ was drawing the line of baby whisperer now. She slowly led upstairs, not noticing how Y/n's hand never left her back.
"Ok...back in college I double majored with criminal justice. I also have a PhD in philosophy. It's my retirement plan. But, one of the many philosophers I followed for a time was Henry of Ghent. I won't get into it, but he was an interesting philosopher. Made a big impact and I think so will he." Y/n gently poked JJ's side. A fond smile on her face as she thought of the next few years.
JJ was in awe. She knew Y/n to an extent but within the few months, she's met almost ever side of Y/n. And this new found knowledge of her smarts, it almost explained her always calm manor. Did she just question everything as well?
"A philosopher? You have some tricks up your sleeve still?" The blonde hummed out her question.
"I'm a jack of all trades," she whispered. If the two weren't as close as they were, the blonde would've missed it. Like how she missed the way Y/n was looking at her.
"Well I like it. Henry. Although what about a nickname?" She raised the next question. Opening the door and stretching her arms, her shirt lifted just barely.
Y/n caught the glimpse of skin. Wanting to reach out and touch, but knowing she would cause nothing but trouble if she did.
"You could call him 'Hen' for short...add a cluck or two after." Y/n smirked to her own joke. Not being quick enough from when JJ turned around to her arm getting whacked. "Hey!"
"Don't bully my kid," she squinted her eyes. Already beginning her night routine. "You could ask him?"
Y/n laughed from the bathroom attached to the room. She walked to the doorway with a fuzzy headband on her head, pushing her hair out her face. "Thought there was a line to my abilities?"
JJ, from the dressers, threw a look of pleading over. Standing straight up, tossing the clothes to the bed, and coming right up to Y/n. Standing toe to toe with the brunette who had a few inches on her. "There is, but prove me wrong."
Y/n heard the undertone. What it was fully, she didn't know, but she heard it loudly. "Challenging me?"
"Since day one."
And it was true in some sense. JJ had expressed early on she didn't believe in the sixth and seventh senses. They just sounded crazy and unrealistic. But as the months went on, it was clear Y/n did have these senses. How far they went, was something JJ wanted to know before the nine months was up.
Y/n's hand brushing back a strand of hair brought her back from her thoughts. She watched something swim in the e/c eyes that stared back at her. She saw it but couldn't pin it.
"You truly have been," Y/n huffed before leaving their moment. Heading deeper into the bathroom and leaving JJ to talk her heart down.
That night, Y/n had fallen asleep second. Leaving JJ to be awake by herself. It's how she found out her new favorite fact of Y/n. She likes to mumble in her sleep. But she didn't get to enjoy it too long as sleep soon took over her as well.
The next morning was the start of the final crunch. Three months, if all goes to plan, until the baby would be born.
JJ had woken to tiny feet kicking her from the inside. The second thing she noted was the lack of body heat next to her.
"Rise and shine! Happy Saturday! And boy do I have a question to ask you!" Y/n came in with tea and breakfast already made. The still half asleep blonde sat up. "Henry, still discussing nicknames, did decide on cinnamon Nutella crepes with strawberries. He's having a sweet tooth today. And his tea, just how he likes it."
The blonde couldn't help but blush at the tray sat down on her lap. "And your breakfast?" She raised a brow as Y/n sat down.
She made a quick oh before running to get her plate. Clearly eager to have a discussion. But it didn't come out right away, the question. Instead their breakfast was casual conversation.
"So, what was your question?" JJ asked as she finished her plate. "Absolute delicious by the way."
Y/n smiled as she cleared the plates. Taking a brief moment to run down to the kitchen and back up. "Have you thought of the nursery yet?"
The blue eyes went wide. "Oh my god, no. I didn't even consider a baby shower yet!"
"Perfect! Penelope is on her way to help us plan. We'll have it here of course. Whatever theme, well actually...Henry chose his theme already. I've explained him over the past few weeks different themes. And he chose pumpkins. Did I sway him based on the color scheme, maybe?" Y/n laid on her side as she explained everything. Hand propping her head up.
JJ was leaning on one hand, leaning closer to the other. "And this isn't you trying to pick the theme?"
Y/n looked up to her, "you wanna ask Henry?"
"Using that name free willing. How do you know I'll pick it?" She poked now. Enjoying their morning bicker.
The brunette made a thinking face, "maybe because I am some sort of telepath and I am able to read your thoughts. But..he'll kick in agreement with me. It's how we do. We locked in. One of the same mind." She began to joke a bit more.
It did earn her a laugh, one she enjoyed hearing very much. "If that's the case, how am I supposed to move out then? He'll never want to leave you."
There was a loud, echoing beat of silence. The two stared at each other. Like the night they knew their relationship was bound to change. The thought crossed their minds at the same time and the air suddenly became thick.
They were already so close.
Y/n sat up and a warm hand cupped JJ's right cheek. "Then don't leave...stay here with me." She was delicate with her words. A hopeful glimmer in her eyes that was begging more than her tone.
JJ could feel herself get choked up. These hormones were just horrible. Tears pricked her eyes as she leaned into the touch. "You couldn't possibly mean it?"
"I do. I..I find myself enjoying every moment with you here. It feels like a home actually. And even not for me..for him. Give him a home to grow up in." Y/n sounded a bit desperate to keep her. It was selfish and she knew that but it's what she wanted.
The blonde could read it off her body. The honesty and it warmed her entire body, feeling warmer when Y/n shuffled in her knees to be right there.
"Let me take care of you both..." she whispered. Her eyes dropped to the soft looking lips. How they were just barely parted. Then they snapped back up to JJ's.
They were watering as they sat there. Hearts beating as this was it. The moment they'd been beating around. The day their relationship was changing.
"Y/n..." JJ would faintly speak. Her eyes jumping all over. The other could sense her worries and knew she shared them as well, but everything has risks. Living in worries would lead nowhere.
The brunette close the gap. Pouring loads of affection into the kiss as she felt JJ kiss back. Smiles creeping on both their faces. Pulling back, they still smiled as they just looked at the other.
Y/n felt joy from her toes to every strand of hair. It's why she grabbed JJ's faces and kissed all over her face. Kissing away the few fallen tears. "I promise to protect you for everything I am. Both of you." She said right before placing another kiss to her lips.
JJ let adoration take over her face as she held the others face in her hands. "I know you will. You have already been and I can't thank you enough."
"You can thank me in kisses from now on?" She playfully raised a solution. Letting the blonde feel the heat that radiated off her cheeks with the blush.
"You can expect them more often," JJ began to get up. Turning to face Y/n who was risen on her knees at the edge of the bed. She sent a simple wink before getting off herself. "I'm going to change first, maybe shower as well."
"Let me know if you need anything," Y/n was about to leave the room. A hand holding her wrist stopped her. Her head turned as she questioned JJ.
There was this new look to her eyes. "It's hard to wash below the belly..."
Y/n turned a bright red once realizing what was being asked. Fingertips to her lips, she was shocked. "Are you sure? We don't have to really, that's not what I was trying to imply-,"
"Will you join me or not?" JJ cut off. Knowing that rambling could go on forever if she let it.
"Yeah...yes, yeah! Obviously." Y/n breathed out. Following the blonde into the bathroom, and she was thankful for having a spacious shower.
The air was silent as the water started. Both watched the other undress. Although, Y/n stared more. Her eyes not being able to tear away from the woman. Taking in every detail she could within the moment. How her boobs overfilled the bra, her thighs were more full, her belly smooth, her hair free from any styling, and a tiny bit of sleep in her eyes still.
She came close and slowly let a hand slip onto the belly as she smiled so wide JJ felt nothing but peace. "You are beyond beautiful."
That was the first shower the two shared, and JJ was instantly a fan of it. She enjoyed how Y/n was so cautious about where her hands went. Not overstep or rushing into anything. No, instead she did everything for JJ. Spoiling her with being able to just relax.
Out the shower was even better. All that she had to do was sit there while Y/n got her everything and hum her little tune.
"You enjoy this don't you?" JJ had asked. Never once letting her eyes leave Y/n. "Anytime you really like something you're doing, you hum. When you cook without headphones, you hum. At work when you're making the tea, you hum."
"Guilty. Took you long enough to catch onto that though. I've been humming around you for years." Y/n admitted, starting to dress herself. Her fingers carefully working at the buttons of the brown flannel. Tucking a bit of it into the grey sweats. "But besides that, Penelope is almost here. You take your time, but I will have a little fruit bowl cut up and ready for you."
"Is that how you know my thoughts? You've been working on being a telepath?" She laughed a bit, only because that's exactly what she wanted in the moment.
Y/n came over and placed a kiss to her lips, "oh absolutely. Why do you think we always had your coffee stalked specifically? I pay attention."
JJ rolled her eyes and pushed the other away. "Whatever."
She flashed a smile before disappearing downstairs. Beginning to get things ready for Penelope to come splay out all her party planning supplies. Which meant rearranging the downstairs to be open enough. Putting most effort into where the three would sit and look over everything.
It wasn't easy, but she knew it was beneficial. Y/n's seen the bubbly blonde plan before at her own house. It gets crazy. This time was no different either. She showed up, did her greetings and began to splay everything out.
Too engrossed in it, she missed the kiss the two shared as JJ came downstairs finally. Wearing one of Y/n's old college sweatshirts and a pair of sweats.
They began a hushed conversation as their guest kept working on laying everything out. "How long has she been here?"
"For at least fifteen minutes. Just know, it is opinion welcomed, but just know pumpkins were indeed my idea. Henry doesn't know anything about baby showers." Y/n came clean. Earning a wack to the arm.
JJ pointed her finger, "I knew you weren't that good."
Penelope spun around abruptly. "JJ! Mama of the shower! Are you ready to dive in?" Her smile was genuine and her hands clasped together.
With a hesitant nod, JJ walked over to the spot on the floor. Entering what might've been a planning nightmare to her.
~
It was any day now. Y/n wanted to stay back on most of the cases now, but JJ urged her to go anyways.
"It wouldn't serve them any good if we're both here. I will have Penelope by my side don't worry." JJ tried to reassure her every time. It did little to help, but it was enough to get her to go.
"Promise you'll call if anything changes?" Y/n had her bag slung over her shoulder. Eyeing the labor bag that was tucked under her desk.
JJ came from behind the desk. Being even shorter since she was free of her heels. Wearing the fuzzy slippers Y/n had bought her not too long ago. "Pinky promise. Now go," she placed a kiss, "save a girl." Playfully saluting, Y/n left the office.
Yet, she didn't. When the contractions started, she assumed it to be the false ones she's experienced before. So she brushed it off.
They only started after the jet had taken off for home. It would be another three hours before the team came back. Before Y/n came back.
As she sat next to Penelope, her hand held her stomach as she tried to avoid groaning (it didn't work). The friend picked up on these tiny groans after awhile. That's how they found out JJ was in labor.
But she wasn't ready. Y/n wasn't there and she needed her for this part. "I have to call Y/n..."
"From the car," Penelope ushered her out the bat cave. They walked through the halls quickly to get to the elevators, bumping into Emily and Jordan.
Emily furrowed her brows, "what's going on?"
Penelope beamed widely, "I am not a doctor, I don't even play one on tv, but JJ is going into labor!"
Emily shared the same smile now. Her head turning to look at Agent Todd. "I hope you're ready cause your job starts right now."
The two friends kept talking but the soon to be mother could only think of Y/n. Handles fumbling with her phone just to get the contact open. Each ring making her heart pound a little harder.
"Baby?" Her voice came through the phone. "What's up?" Face contorting, JJ groaned into the phone. "I assume Penelope and Emily are with you?" A small, pained, 'mm-hmm' was given. "Just breathe, it's gonna be ok. You've prepared for this. I will be there as soon as I can I promise you."
It was true, they've ran through everything together already. But when it came time to actually push, and there was still no sight of Y/n, JJ suddenly couldn't do it. This was too scary to face alone. Where was Y/n?
"I can't..." she whispered as the doctors came in. Her eyes were quick to look at Penelope. "No. I can't....where's Y/n?" The panic began to pick up and the room sensed it.
"The jet touched down awhile ago, she should be here any second now. But you have to breathe hun," Penelope tried to calm her. Her attempts doing nothing as she shook her head. "I'll have emily call her, but you have to calm down."
JJ felt the tears sting her eyes. Nobody was going to be there to hold her. They had talked about how they would do things together but now it was only her. The tears began to fall. "I need her. I don't know how to do this alone," she began to get even more worked up.
"She needs to calm down, the stress isn't good for her or the baby." The nurse whispered to Penelope.
It was agonizing for JJ to lay there alone. It tore Y/n apart knowing that as well. She was driving as fast as she could, tempted to turn the sirens on. But every turn felt like another, turn after turn, eventually leading to the hospital.
She was frantic with trying to get in. The lady at the desk could sense it as well as she gave up the room number. Watching as Y/n full sprinted to the stairs and up them. Bursting through the third floors door and towards the delivery room.
The sounds of JJ protesting to start pushing filling the silent hall. Y/n picked up her pace and barged in. The room turning to face her, but she was only looking to the blonde in bed.
"You're here!" She almost screamed. The tears falling finally as her hands gripped the side of the bed.
The brunette came closer, standing on the side of the bed, and placing a kiss to her forehead. "I am hunny," she calmed her. Hand slipping to hold hers and taking the squeezing.
"Alright Jennifer, you're ready to start pushing." The doctor finally came in. "Oh hello, you must be Y/n. Nurses can we get her ready?" They worked quickly. Scared honestly to take her too far away from JJ.
The team that came with sat in the lobby. Waiting for any update from the woman. "Ok...but did anyone else think they would've told us they gotten together?" Penelope raised. "Because coming in and calling her 'hunny'? It was almost natural, so it's been more than a week or two."
"Y/n is so that child's father." Emily sat down with a coffee in hand. "I'm just surprised that it took living with her for JJ to realize that she would've dropped everything ages ago."
"We'll factor in the job and she wouldn't have noticed if Y/n never feared her home." Hotch pitched into the building theory now. His eyes trained to his phone however.
Spencer came in shortly after. "How is she?" He didn't rush as fast from the jet to the hospital like Hotch and Y/n did. "Y/n make it in time?"
He sounded like he knew something and Emily and Penelope shared a look. "What do you know about those two?" One would ask.
He shrugged, "they've been dating since the start of the third trimester. They told me right away." He didn't see how important that information was.
Both women had their jaws dropped as the news had been broken. The lies they've been fed in that time as well. They had broken off into their own conversation. Discussing how they could've missed it and how well their teammates hid it. Also on reasons Reid would know first.
Spencer took the seat next to Hotch. "Did she make it though?" He asked, knowing how important this was to the both of them.
"She did. And those two came back saying it should be any minute." He gestured to Emily and Penelope. Then he looked back to the genius. "Why did they tell you first?"
"They said it was because they knew I wouldn't say anything anyways. Also because I caught them in JJ's office sharing a sweet moment." He explained.
The moment he had scene was Y/n whispering to Henry to calm down, JJ had been complaining of it for hours that day. Then right as he was about to knock, Y/n placed a kiss to the belly then shared one with JJ. Both smiling before realizing he was there. It left them with no choice but to mention it to him.
After that, the lobby fell into a peaceful silence as they waited. It was unlike the delivery room. Full of JJ's screams and puffing. Y/n's hands felt broken as she sat behind and encouraged her through everything.
But, she would admit, her broken bones were worth every second. Even as she brushed through JJ's hair as she finally could rest, she could only think of their future together now.
Pressing a soft kiss to her sweaty hairline. "You're amazing." She whispered into the others ear. "You're gonna be an amazing mom."
The blonde hummed in acknowledgement. Her hand slowly intertwining with Y/n's. "Thank you for everything." She felt the shift from behind her and groaned with confusion.
"You should get some rest. There's four agents who want to meet Henry." She explained her disappearing, placing another kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back in a few to sit by your side."
~
A few weeks had passed and it was a guessing game on who would come back first. Neither of the two had really mentioned anything to anyone.
"I'm placing bets it's JJ first. If it was love-sick Y/n, she would've mentioned her return in the group chat." Derek placed his money down. A twenty sat on Emily's desk, waiting for hers to accompany it.
"I place bet it's Y/n first," Rossi laid his while walking past. It surprised the two that he wanted in on it.
Emily had to think of a third out come suddenly. "I bet one of them resigns." She threw out the crazy possibility. Knowing she was loosing twenty in the end no matter what. Even the two men looked at her in question. Her only answer was a shrug and a lost 'I dunno'.
Meanwhile, JJ was up and getting ready for her return to work. Her heels clacking against the smooth wood into the kitchen. Smiling at the sight of Y/n dancing around Henry as she cooked for them.
"You teaching him some moves?" The blonde laughed as she found her cup of coffee. She moved to place a kiss to her baby's head. "Good morning, handsome boy."
Y/n beamed happily, "he already has them. I think it's from all the dancing we did. Good morning hun," the brunette spun around the island to give a morning kiss. "Are you ready for your return?"
JJ's smiled dropped slowly as she stared at Y/n. She was still in her pajamas and hardly ready for a day. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? No one is asking you to do this as much as I appreciate it."
Y/n lightly laughed, they'd been through this so many time within the last few weeks. "If I didn't want to leave, I wouldn't. But I know you love that job with everything in you and someone has to be here for Henry. And...maybe it's time I use my backup plan? The FBI was a good money plan that's given me a lot of skills, but I'm ready for a casual life."
The blonde searched for any sign there was a lie. That Y/n did want to come back with her. That it should be Y/n going back today and not her. But this is what she was choosing and there was no changing her mind.
So, she nodded and let the conversation go. "What do you have planned today?" Was the new topic.
Y/n plated the breakfast for the two of them, and the bottle for Henry. "Well, me and Henry are going to go out grocery shopping later. Then I'll come back and clean a little while he's down for a nap. But that's if I stick with the plan."
JJ hummed, "you truly are a blessing Y/n. The BAU will miss you." Her arms lazily wrapped around the others neck. "I'll miss you the most at work."
"Just gives you a good reason to come home at the end of everything. Two good reasons actually." She had a tiny smirk on her lips. "And because I can hear your worries, we'll be fine. I was an agent myself, I know how to kick ass. Oh but we should get a dog!"
The blonde shook her head at the sudden switch. Knowing these mornings would be her favorite moments. "I can't even tell you no, it's your house." She moved back to where her coffee mug sat.
Y/n playfully scoffed, "as if this is just my house." She came around from her spot and hugged JJ from behind. Placing a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck, then her ear.
The woman hummed in satisfaction. "You're right, it's a home. We just live in it." She joked. Remembering the first time that they realized it was their home.
"It's our home, baby." Y/n placed one more kiss to her head before slipping away again.
JJ knew this was when she would go change finally and get ready. It gave her time to sit with Henry and think of the luck she's been given. "She's right ya' know. It's our home." She spoke to the baby who just smiled to her. The blonde couldn't help the smile that came from her either. "You're gonna be in such good hands. We both are, we have been...we have someone who is our protector." The baby laughed
"Mm, I'll protect you till my final breath. Both of you." The other came back. She was in an old college sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings. Crew socks running up past her ankles.
She walked in closer to the two, placing a kiss to both their heads. Swearing in secrecy to literally put her life on the line for these two. That she was willing to give up her own life because of the love that swarmed her body every time they were near. Even when they weren't near, she still felt the connection flow so easily.
She sat in the stool right near the table. "You'll say hi to everyone for me right? Also before you tell them ask about the bet they probably have, I put money Rossi wins." Her smile was goofy but she knew the joke eased some nerves.
The blonde hummed softly, "you'll call if you need anything?" She stood and moved closer. Her hand coming to hold Y/n's face.
Her empty mug being taken into the others hands. "I promise to call. You promise not to worry too much?"
JJ chuckled before pressing a kiss to her hairline, "I'll try my best." She made work at getting ready to leave, tying her coat up by the front door.
Her hand grasped at the handle and before she could step forward, arms were around her holding her tightly. And then the realization hit in a little more. Y/n wasn't coming back to work with her. There would be a new open spot and there wouldn't be her on cases anymore. Honestly, a part of JJ felt like the other had this planned and it worked out in both their favors. So she turned and held her close and tight.
Both were suppressing the tears now. Yet, when they pulled away the brunette was smiling widely with glassy eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I just couldn't help it. Get home safe for me ok? I know I said I'd protect you, but I need you to stay alive to be protected, yeah?" JJ inhaled sharply and nodded her head. Words were only going to make her break and cry. "Ok," a kiss placed to her cheek. "Go. Get to work. Call me if you need anything, I love you. Get home safe. And ask about the bet."
The words of love almost were missed, but JJ caught them. They pushed the tears over and soon she was crying heavily while holding onto her girlfriend. Not caring if she was late before her first day back.
~
"Well look who's back first!" Derek wore his cocky grin as he walked to the small pile of twenties. Hand grabbing them and flaunting them around.
JJ shook her head, "she wanted me to ask about that. What was everyone's guess?"
Emily after rolling her eyes at the bald man sighed. "Derek said you'd come back first, Rossi said the other, and I said someone would resign."
She weighed everyone's chances of winning. "Well let me tell you, that one of you is right and it's not the man with the money." She tilted towards Derek who was still bragging. It really only left one answer and Emily shouted when she realized it.
"No!" Her eyes were wide and jaw was dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" Her hands were thrown up into the air.
Penelope had just came in with the newspaper. "Oh Emily's dropping f-bombs before ten! What's the news?" She hurried over to the other two, eager to hear the new drama.
"I won the bet! And I'm not happy about it either!" She groaned before going up to Derek. Ripping the sixty dollars out his hand. "I'm not pleased to do this."
"Wait...but your bet.." her eyes jumped to JJ who was nodding at the unasked question. "She resigned?!"
The realization caused a heavy silence. Everyone focusing on the open desk. All her decorations were still on it but soon they wouldn't be. Everything felt surreal as they all knew Emily's side of the bet was truly a joke, but now that it was true they didn't think it funny anymore. The entire day was filled with quietness and sorrow filled glances to the vacant desk.
Towards the end, after going serial killer free, JJ's phone rang as she came into the bullpen. "Agent Jareau."
"Ooh so formal. Now I know you don't check your caller id." Her voice came through the phone. The smile she wore was evident. "Are you on your way home?"
"Yeah, everyone's finishing up right now. I should be back in like thirty minutes? Why? What's up?" The blonde slowed her pace and stood still in the moment. A flash of worry hitting her as soon as she finished asking.
JJ could hear the smile from through the phone. "You should invite everyone over for family dinner. Mostly because I may have cooked more than needed and need people to eat it all."
The blonde laughed lightly and looked over to her colleagues. "Right, well then you can expect everyone in twenty. I'll see you at home," she agreed and caught the attention of the group.
"Love you," was the last thing said before the line went dead.
JJ sighed as they waited expectingly for the invite. Almost like they knew what was being asked. "You've been invited to dinner by the chef. She expects your attendance."
They all cheered and were quick to pack everything up. Trailing slightly behind JJ who left five minutes before them.
It gave her enough time to make it home and catch a breather before they showed up. And when she walked through the front door, the delicious smell of fried chicken floated through the house.
"Babe?" She called into the house, being louder than the music that played. She moved further in, not surprised by the sight she saw.
Y/n danced around Henry in his high chair as she plated all the food. It looked like a feast with how much she actually made. Once she noticed JJ, her feet did their own dance over to her. Rising on her tiptoes to place a passionate kiss to her lips. "And the woman of the house is home!" She cheered, getting Henry to laugh and clap along. She pulled JJ towards the kitchen, letting her take in the smell up close. "I had an inkling you were feeling steak today."
The blonde side eyed her for a moment. "I thought the JJ senses only worked with the baby in me?"
"No they work because I love you, always have been loving you, always will be loving you." She gave her another kiss and slipped away to get wine glasses ready.
"Really? And when did you know you loved me?" JJ asked as she left to drop her bag in the study. Letting her hair free from the slick back ponytail and shaking out her hair.
Y/n looked into the air, like she was searching for the right memory. "The day Hotch sent me a photo of us on the jet. I never showed you or mentioned it because I didn't know how you were going to feel if I did." She confessed while grabbing more glasses.
JJ furrowed her brows before heading up to change and settle in. Only taking a few minutes as she only did change and let her hair loose of its ponytail. When she came down a glass was ready at the bottom of the stairs with her girlfriend smiling softly up at her.
"What was the photo of?" She had came back to the question of a few moments ago. Taking the glass and really kissing those lips she's missed seeing smile around every corner. "Hello, baby."
The delicate way the words were delivered made Y/n grow a shy smile and a heavy blush as telling the truth now seemed impossible. And even as she did try to look away and avoid it, JJ had her jaw and forced her eyes up. A curiosity swarming in her eyes that was darker than usual.
There was a giggle before she seriously stared up, schooling her features. "The first case you started to come to me about talking Henry to sleep, we were on the plane and...maybe the man who never sleeps saw us all snuggled up on the couch. The next day he brought me in and had asked about us and I mean basically what I'm saying is Hotch has been knowing before we even were official."
JJ's jaw dropped as the other sprinted from her grasp and back into the kitchen. Being saved by the doorbell that was left for the blonde to answer. As she walked closer, she called over the music. "You're so dead when they leave." And with that she opened the door. Inviting in their loving work family who were all ready for a feast.
~
"So you decided to leave, why?" Derek asked while leaning back. His right hand slung over the couch around Garcia, while his left pointed with his beer that he brought close to him shortly after.
She followed his moves and leaned back in the chair as well, her own drink being set on the small table off to the side. "Well, I know- we know how much she loves her job. I don't think she would be ready to say good bye like that so easily. Plus my body's beginning to age...I can't kick ass forever."
Reid furrowed his brows, "you're only 26? How can your body already be aging where you can't fight crime?"
She shrugged anyways, "it just did. I have a kid now, and a baby." She beamed widely while the room lightly laughed.
The stairs creaked, "you just call me childish?" JJ had an arched brow as she went to grab her wine glass and come over to the living room. She passed the chair and an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her down and carefully into another's lap.
"No, I'm calling you my baby." Y/n smiled even wider somehow. Body tingling with affection and warmth that consumed JJ.
"So what are you doing now?" Rossi raised the next question. "You seem to have a backup plan already, so out with it kid."
"I'm guest teaching at the college for philosophy. Along with a few guest lectures for the academy. It's just something slight to keep and extra flow." She had explained it so easily. The team wasn't oblivious to the softness in her voice as she spoke of her next career. It was like she was relieved from everything bad in the world. "I'll mostly just be around to be with Henry otherwise."
"And mama bear how does this make you feel?" Penelope furrowed her brows, curious on how the blonde was handling it so well. Unlike her who was going to fight it anyways.
JJ shrugged lightly and looked down to the other, "it's sad knowing I won't have someone tending to my needs like her. Otherwise, it's comforting knowing someone will always be able to protect Henry."
"Yeah, but think of the homage meals you'll come home to now. Kid knows how to cook, makes me wonder why I'm the only one giving lessons?" Rossi raises a brow. "Seriously, why the holding out? We could've been sharing recipes."
The chef laughed, "because my cooking was nothing compared to yours when I started. I learned in silence so I could do this one day." It was earnest of her. Their family sat in her living room enjoying the time they had of just peace. Glasses full of drinks as they chatted about freely. Sharing stories and laughter that chased away the reality of their jobs. "To the day I could cook for my family."
Penelope gushed as she began to fan her face. "Sugar you're too sweet!" She laughed and a few joined her. Derek had pulled her closer in a hug.
"We'll miss you," Hotch had mentioned. He raised his glass towards where she sat. Everyone joined in as well. A silent toast given in her regards.
"Yeah, yeah, enough sappiness people! I'm not dying or anything, I'm always around still. You'll know where to find me and I'll always have something cooked." She nodded with a wide smile. "My rule is though, you can't bring work talk in here. Home is a sacred place."
"It's gonna cost ya..." Emily shrugged while looking for an offer to balance it out. Even if it Y/n's house, she was going to try and get something knowing how much they talked about work.
She rolled her eyes once more, "I literally said I'd always have a meal cooked for you! Was that not enough?"
"You have to send leftovers with JJ since we won't be here every single night." Derek pointed, Emily snapped and agreed instantly.
"Yea..yea leftovers get sent out way." Emily repeated it and it made the room laugh at the antics.
Their conversations continued on until glasses began to empty and everyone began to head home. Exchanging hugs as they went. And eventually it was just the two back on the couch leaning against the other.
"I love you, you know that right?" Y/n had hummed before sipping on her drink, they had decided one more to end the night.
"I wouldn't have ever doubted it." JJ nuzzled her nose against the others neck, placing a soft kiss to her pulse point. "And I love you."
The vibrations from Y/n's hum tickled against her lips. But when she pulled away her smile had slightly faltered at the sudden appearance of the black box. "What's that?" She whispered.
"A gift, a promise." Was all she was given. With a shaky hand she opened the lid, revealing the citrine ring that was surrounded by a few diamonds. It was eye capturing but just enough to not be too much. "It's citrine."
"Henry's birthstone."
"When the time is right, I plan to get you another ring. I promise I'll get you another ring because I promise to never leave you. I know we've had this conversation, but I want you to know and have evidence I mean it. I love you beyond my words. I love Henry beyond my words. I want you both in my life till forever runs out." She simply spoke. Her hands reaching for the ring and slipping it onto JJ's slender fingers. There she kissed the rock on her hand. "I promise my all to you Jennifer Jareau."
#reader insert#criminal minds evolution#criminal minds#jennifer jareau#Jennifer Jareau x reader#emily prentiss#derek morgan#penelope garcia#david rossi#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#fluff
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last young renegade | jjh
summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)
pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k
a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!
Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.
♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?
At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.
You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.
It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off.
While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.
Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.
Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.
You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.
♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡
When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.
You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.
He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.
“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”
“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”
“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”
“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”
“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”
“And? What did you say?”
“I said it was none of his damn business.”
Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.
Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.
He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.
The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.
Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.
You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately.
“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”
“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”
“You know you can’t! Give it back.”
“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”
Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.
“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.
“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”
“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”
“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”
“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”
“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”
“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”
“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.
All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.
There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.
His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.
“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”
Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.
“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”
There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’
“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”
“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”
“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”
Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.
“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”
“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”
“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”
“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.
It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.
The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.
Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.
He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.
You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.
You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.
His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.
He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.
“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”
“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”
“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”
“Won’t you be too busy?”
“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”
You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.
Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.
Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.
The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.
You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.
But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.
Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.
Then again, this isn’t all up to you.
You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.
His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.
He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.
“How did it go?”
“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”
“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.
You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.
“You love me, right?”
It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.
“You know I do.”
“A lot, right?”
“A lot,” you confirm softly.
“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”
“Jaehyun—”
“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”
Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.
“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”
You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.
“I believe you.”
“And you trust me, right?”
“With my life.”
“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”
He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.
“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”
“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”
He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.
“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”
“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”
“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”
“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.
“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”
Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.
“You know I love you, right?”
You smile slightly. “No but?”
“No but,” he agrees.
The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.
“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”
When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.
Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.
Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.
And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.
#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x you#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun drabbles#nct x you#nct x reader#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct 127 x you#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 drabbles#nct u x you#nct u x reader#nct u scenarios#nct u imagines#nct u drabbles#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun angst#nct fluff#nct angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 angst#nct u fluff#nct u angst
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Fictober23 Prompt: 25 - "Do I look like I knew that?"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: T
Warnings: -
A/N: Edit - adjusted the last bit a little after rereading this during my break, so that it makes grammatically more sense...
There was no warning. The moment the Waynes had stepped into the main hall of this Gala they had not been prepared for what had been about to happen. The only sign they had gotten was Damian tensing for a split second before the youngest of them booked it across the hall.
Tim and Bruce instantly attempted damage control, distracting all the high society people that had noticed it, while Dick and Jason followed their youngest. Cass had already escaped the gala to the roof before they had set their first foot into the main hall.
But again, nothing could have prepared them for what was happening.
Damian not only had seen something that caused him to sprint across the room no, their Demon Brat had gone a step further and just tackled the kid of someone else over and was now wrestling with the other boy! Holding one of the daggers they must have missed to the other boy's neck.
Surprisingly, the other kid held himself pretty well against Damian. Jason and Dick spent a good five minutes just staring when they had found their youngest, only starting to move again when Vlad Master demanded answers from his child. The apparent guardian of the kid that was currently attempting to get a choke hold on Damian before getting flipped over the shoulder, the boy flipped mid air, landing on his feet.
Before Damian could lung at the other boy again Dick grabbed him, his arm wounding around Damians chest as he held onto his youngest brother that sent quite an impressive death glare towards the other kid that just returned the glare, not with the same intensity but clearly peeved had having gotten attacked out of nowhere.
"Daniel! Explain this instant! You promised me, one gala without a ruckus!" Master was clearly not amused, hopefully Bruce had some sort of peace offering ready. Not that the man needed it, Dick thought, remembering some of the reports he had seen the man on.
The boy, Daniel, turned his glare towards his guardian. "It's not my fault this time! HE attacked me first!" Jason snorted, clearly having heard out of that statement alone that Masters apparently also had a feral kid that attacked someone at a gala before.
"This is no excuse. I know you are still grieving but you can not attack my business partner's children. Wasn't it enough that you broke Andrews Mayors nose last week?"
"He deserved it, he hit a girl in a perverted way."
"Justin Gracer?"
"Made fun of my late parents' profession."
"Daniel."
"Fruitloop."
Dick watched how Masters pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with his charge. By now Damian seemed to have calmed down too from whatever idea he had gotten into his head. He was still glaring at the other kid but at least it appeared he wasn't going to attack anymore when he hissed at Dick to let go of him. He still kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.
"I am so sorry Mr. Master. It wasn't Daniel that started it. Damian, come on apologies." Dick cut in, causing the other two to pay attention and fully face them. That's when he noticed it. Daniel looked a whole lot like Damian. The older siblings shared a glance before Jason left to get the others, Tim and Bruce were still stuck doing damage control but it should only be a matter of time. What was the best way to bring it up to ask subtitle questions without appearing suspicious?
Dick was just about a question before Daniel apparently beat him to it. "Fruitloop, you did not attempt to clone me did you?"
"Little Badger, why would I do that? I already have guardianship over you."
Dick felt like he was missing something here but he also felt Daniam's shoulder tense below his hand. So that was why he had attacked. Damian thought another clone appeared. He really hoped what Masters and his Charge seid were just some ill timed joke. Otherwise the implications would be very worrisome.
"Mom and Dad didn't keep some other family relations secret did they?" Daniel then asked and Masters looked at them contemplatively. "Well Jack was estranged from the rest of his family while Maddie only had her sister Alicia and as far as I am aware you and Jasmine were their only children."
"Mr. Masters if you don't mind, would it be alright to do a DNA testing? You said Daniel's father was estranged from his family? It would be good to find out now if there is a relation." Dick ignored the glare Damian was sending him now, but this was his best excuse to get the others DNA to test if the other boy was really a clone or not. If he was then the League of Assassins must have done some serious brainwashing, and memory manipulation. This would also be the first clone of Damian that actually had a consciousness of his own.
"Doesn't explain why he attacked me…" he heard the other boy mutter as Master stared at them with narrowed eyes for a while before giving the boy by his side a contemplating look.
"Daniel has lost his family and friends in an incident recently. It would be good if we found any family he could connect with or help with his grief." The man then finally said after a moment before handing Dick a business card with a number to connect them before leading his boy away, leaving the gala for all they knew.
A week later and after a lot of discussion in their Family. The Waynes and Masters meet for the DNA testing. Though the moment Masters and his charge met Bruce both froze, Bruce in his Brucie act blinked innocently at them and asked if anything was wrong.
"Fruitloop…"
"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. I never would have attempted what you appear to be implying."
The boy pointed in at Bruce as he faced his guardian. "Look at him and tell me they don't look alike! He is like a more fit version of Dad! Like he hadn't eaten a single one of mom fudges in years! You have to have an explanation for that!"
"And how would I do that?"
"I don't know! You're the fruitloop one that had cloning equipment in the basement! Who did you buy it from? Some old fruitloop? The one you bought it from, did they try to - i don't know - clone a celebrity for themselves! The papers you had with it clearly stated that it had been used successfully once. It was a second hand bought with super old technology when I demanded you destroy the stuff!"
"Daniel, do I look like I knew that? I never looked in these papers you speak of! I just bought it as a backup plan, that I never needed a little badger! Besides the only one I would have ever attempted to clone with that time frame would have been your mother! I didn't even know your father before college! "
"Why would you buy something without looking into the papers and instruction manuals you get with it?!"
"There was no need for! Why did you even look into that when you had me destroy it anyway?!"
The Waynes looked back and forth between Masters and his charge. The more these two continued to argue the more a sinking feeling started to form in everyone present. It was Tim though that voiced everyone's thoughts as he leaned over to Bruce whispering only one question. "Are we sure there never has been an attempt of someone trying to clone you? It sounds like there had been one, years ago…"
#fictober23#danny fenton#dp x dc#danny phantom#dpxdc#crossover#dcxdp#damian wayne#vlad master#bruce wayne#set before the start of the Dan-Timeline#before the timeline when really bad#Danny is a grieving feral gremlin#Vlad is just trying to help Danny#redemption Vlad#Jack was a discarded clone of Bruce#Danny is the son of a clone#the batfam first thought Danny was Damians clone#the batfam didn't know someone tried and apparently somewhat successfully clone Bruce#family relations are weird with clones#is Danny now also Bruce son or a cousin#I have no idea if any of this makes sense
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BANGTAN BABY: IN THE SOOP
ARMY had been surprised and delighted when it had been announced that a new series of In the Soop was ready to be released in a matter of weeks. There had been talks for ages about doing another series or at least, something similar to the original that took place all those years ago.
However, there would be a slight change this year. Grace was nowhere to be seen on any of the promotional videos that had been released in the weeks to the premiere date and she hadn’t been seen on the official posters either. It had been expected though as Grace had only given birth to her and Seokjin’s only daughter, Bora, a month ago.
But ARMY should have realised that what you see on trailers and photos, isn’t what you normally get.
The first episode was pure BTS chaos.
The third episode came with major surprises.
As the camera panned along the various rooms, there were signs that maybe the boys weren’t alone as the viewers thought. There was a box of nappies, freshly opened, near the bathroom and in the hallway, there was a brand-new baby stroller and various other items dotted around.
However, when the camera switched to the living area, there was no baby to be seen.
“Waa? What the fuck?” Yoongi yelled at the TV, where the LA Lakers had just lost a crucial point.
“Hyung,” Hobi shushed him from the end of the couch but the basketball player paid him no mind.
No one paid Hobi any attention, their eyes either on the TV screen or on their phones. While they weren’t exactly big basketball fans, they could enjoy the sport and Yoongi’s reactions at the same time so it all equalled great entertainment.
The room became silent when the small monitor on the coffee table came to life.
“Looks like someone is awake,” Seokjin grinned as he pushed himself off the couch and shuffled towards the stairs, straight to the room that he had commandeered for himself, Grace and their little one.
“See,” Hobi warned as he pushed at Yoongi’s good shoulder. “Told you that you were being too loud.”
“I don’t think hyung going ‘what the fuck?’ would have woken up Bora,” Namjoon grinned as he checked the small monitor himself. “Looks like she needed to be changed,” he added as he turned the monitor around to show the rest of them.
All went silent as they watched Seokjin change his daughter and pick her up, holding her close to his chest as he left the bedroom. They could hear his footsteps along the landing, down the stairs and the shuffle as he headed towards the living room.
“Jungkook, take her for me while I get a bottle sorted.”
The young man didn’t need much encouragement as he all but jumped over the back of the couch, and landed without falling over. Quite impressive for a young man who had downed a bottle of soju already and had eaten his weight in pizza. Large hands cradled the small body and Jungkook held his baby sister to his chest, sensibly walking around the couch this time to where he had originally been lounging between Yoongi and Taehyung.
“Was Hyung too loud?” Taehyung teased, reaching out to take a little hand.
Yoongi frowned as he had already turned down the noise from the TV the moment Seokjin had disappeared upstairs and had turned on the subtitles so he could read what was happening instead. If anything, he had been a considerate drunk uncle.
“Who wants to feed her?” Seokjin asked, coming in with a fresh bottle.
Four hands shot up immediately.
Jungkook was more than happy to have Bora in his arms and Yoongi didn’t dare take her in case something happened on the TV that made him jump which left Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin and Taehyung.
“Here you go,” Seokjin said as he handed the bottle to the winner.
Hobi wiggled in his seat in a mini happy dance as he took the warm bottle and with ease, took Bora into his arms and gave her the midnight snack. Jimin, not to be left out of the bonding experience with Bora, sat next to Hobi and quietly asked her how her meal was, and did it taste nice.
“Hopefully Gigi will be up to joining us tomorrow,” Namjoon commented as he stole the last slice of pizza and ignored Jungkook’s narrowed gaze. “It’s been odd not hearing her nag at us.”
“We had to wait for this little one to be ready to join us,” Hobi grinned as he put the empty bottle on the coffee table and Jimin stole her away, a towel over his shoulder to help her burp.
“I’ll for one be happy to have her back, looking after you six is a right pain in the ass,” Seokjin commented as he finally sat back down, content in the knowledge his daughter was in the right hands.
He did, however, ignore the complaints coming from his brothers.
#bts 8th member#bts eighth member#bts additional member#bts female member#bts fic#bts fanfiction#bangtanbaby
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First Christmas (Dean x F!Reader)
DESCRIPTION: It's your first time celebrating Christmas since dating Dean. Lets just say he takes it very seriously.
A/N - Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you all have a good Christmas/solstice/Wednesday and enjoy some Dean fluff to help you celebrate
WORD COUNT: 972
One Shots / 'You Saved Me'
WARNINGS: established relationship, fluff with a light tone of more fluff
DISCLAIMERS
This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand
This story is based after the events of my series 'You Saved Me' (a Supernatural fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this
You roll over. Hand going to where Deans chest should be. Emphasis on the 'should'. You wink an eye open. The bed next to you completely empty. You give a small grumble. Unsure of what the time was but knowing it was way to early to be getting out of bed. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up. Squinting to see if he was in the room at all. It was dark outside. The only light coming into your room was that of the nights sky.
Not able to distinguish a figure you decide he's not in there. Reaching and grabbing for your phone to check the time. 4:07am. You were right. Way too early to be getting out of bed. You give another loud huff. Throwing the covers from your body before swinging your legs out from the warmth of your duvet.
The usual light in the hall was still on. You always had the one outside the girls room on. In case they needed the loo during the night then they could find their way to the correct place with minimal bumping into things. You could see the vague glow illuminating the upstairs corridor and falling into the hall down here. You look to the end of the hallway. Noting the light on in the living area.
Making your way sleepily down. Entering the room you see Dean sat at the dining room table. His gaze glancing up as he watches some cartoon on TV he has on in the living room. Muted with the subtitles on as to not disturb you or your daughters upstairs.
"Dean?" you whisper his name. He quickly turns to face you at hearing your voice. Turning back as he moves the wrapping he was using to hide the objects on the table. Paying the items no mind as you tiredly look at him. "What are you doing up at 4 in the morning?" He stands. Giving you a small cheeky smile as he glances downwards before looking back up at you.
"Well..." he coughs slightly. Looking back up. Trying and failing to act cool at the question. "I realised its Christmas in two days and I hadn't wrapped up the gifts I have for you or the girls... I decided to do it tonight as I know we'll likely be up late tomorrow and I won't have time but I wanted to do it before the morning so I could hide them properly". You smile at the cuteness of his notion. Going over to him you rest a hand onto his upper arm. Looking up into his green eyes as he looks down towards you.
"That is incredibly sweet". You take in a small breath. "If you want to wrap presents up then you can do it in the day. Say you need to borrow the bedroom or something and take everything into there. It saves you getting up at this time in the morning to do wrapping for us".
"But you or Anna or Lydia might suspect what I'm doing and try and look". You give a small chuckle. Nodding as you keep his steady gaze.
"I get what you mean about the girls". You scratch your head. Looking downwards slightly. Stroking down the hair your just dishevelled. Not that it overly mattered due to your already existing bed head. Looking back up at him. Giving a soft smile. "Have you wrapped everything up for me?" He gives you a blank look. Obviously saying no without the word coming from his mouth. You nod. "Ok". you go over to the kitchen. Continuing to speak as you walk to a drawer. "How about-" Grabbing out a plastic bag. Shutting the drawer shut again. Softly as to try and remain quiet so you don't wake the girls. He tries and shields your eyes from the gifts behind him with his body. Exaggerating his arms outwards. You walk back over to him. Holding the bag towards him.
"Put everything for me into here". He looks at the bag then back at you. Gently taking it from your grasp. You turn your back. Covering your hands over your eyes. Hearing shuffling as he moves everything in. A minute passes. Feeling him lightly tap your shoulder. Taking that as your cue to turn ack around and uncover your eyes. Which you do. A very noticeable bag shoved under the table but you pay it no attention. You never did have the desire to find out your presents were before you got them. "Can I look now?" he nods. Moving out your way. Seeing a few gifts already wrapped. Names scribbled into them. Smiling as you see ones for your children. You pick up the newspaper from the table. Raising your brow at him. He gives a sheepish smile. A small exhale of a laugh leaving his lips as he looks almost embarrassed.
"I couldn't find any proper paper". You give a laugh. Putting the paper back down as you go into the hallway and to the stairs. Going into the cupboard beneath it. Turning the small overhead light on as you try and locate the items you want. Smiling at your success. Grabbing out the festive paper and fancy labels. Going back over to the table and plopping them down. "You are a life saver". You laugh. Picking up a stuffed Olaf toy. Moving him to face Dean. Raising an eyebrow slightly.
"Let me guess. Anna?" He nods.
"She told me that she loves that movie and that Olaf is her favourite character so I'm not going to judge" he takes the toy from you. Whispering to the stuffed creature. "You're beautiful". Kissing the top of his little stuffed head. You smile.
"You're ridiculous" you playfully point out. Picking up other items and starting to wrap them.
TAGS: @sojuxxi
#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#smut#supernatural#supernatural smut#fluff#angst#dean winchester supernatural#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fluff#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst#jensen ackles#supernatural dean smut#supernatural dean fluff#supernatural dean angst#supernatural dean winchester fluff#supernatural dean winchester smut#supernatural dean winchester angst#dean winchester x oc#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x reader smut#dean x reader fluff#dean x reader angst#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x reader angst#dean winchester x reader fluff#one shot#one shot story
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In Black & White. Reca.
Summary: After being hit with the harsh reality of just how people saw you all you really wanted to do was sit down, cuddle up, and watch a movie, but Reca always did like doing things his way.
Author's note: Before more modernized projectors became a thing (or someone simply messed with theirs) they had to use two projectors to play a full film because of the amount of tape they would be able to play in one sitting.

The constant click, click, click of a projector turned into a whirring hum, filling the otherwise strangely quiet space with its effort to turn the reel. It sat comfortably, secure, and most importantly threaded through the gate to allow the scene before you to play; at first it started with a few flickers and a blurry image before slowly becoming crystal clear all for the sake of sharing the image of a couple sitting together in a park.
Clearly, the reel had just been changed.
You didn't need anyone to tell you that, not when you could pick up on the occasional rustle behind you as Reca carried the last reel between his hands as delicately as he could bring himself to when Reca was running around. A tag was slapped onto it with messy handwriting reading out the last movie he must have been playing before, leaving you to just barely make out the words with narrowed eyes before they were carried away.
“And this goes over here,” he muttered to himself as Reca went to place the silver reel where it belonged. For a moment the projector almost seemed to shut off as he walked in front of it only for the image you had been intensely staring at for the past few minutes to be restored a second later in black and white. In comparison, the bright red curtains framing the screen seemed to pop out, begging to be seen even when your eyes tore away from it.
With a sigh you tilt your head back slightly to catch the sight of Reca's trench coat fluttering behind him as he runs around the makeshift theater; he was moving so fast you couldn't even see the embroidered details on the fabric. “Are you going to sit down and join me,” you asked. “Because if you keep going like this, you'll miss something.”
“Miss something?” Reca scoffed. “Now that isn't possible.”
A single long stride was all it took before Reca's hand fell to your shoulder, the comforting feeling of warmth you would normally expect from another simply nonexistent as his touch lingered. Just like any other memetic entity he lacked the distinct heat you would feel from anyone who had blood pumping away under their skin, leaving you with nothing more than a chill down your spine as Reca's lips lingered by your ear. His voice filled your mind, almost drowning out the thoughts that had been weighing you down all day as each word he uttered matched the script the actor before you was reciting. And that was all without the aid of subtitles.
“See?” He asked after a moment had passed, his hand squeezing your arm before it fell away. Somehow, that, too, left you hyper aware of Reca's actions as he hovered behind the seat you were currently occupying. “I could recite this entire script by heart, sweetness. Meaning: I can't miss a thing.”
His confidence truly could never be shattered, and it left you grumbling to yourself and calling Reca a showoff before pushing him back to continuing with his task with a shove. “You memokeepers and your near perfect memories.”
Quickly, before he lost the chance, Reca pressed a kiss to your cheek, making sure to make an obnoxiously loud mwah sound with it.
Your eyes crinkled at the feeling as a smile came to your face, but it fell away just as quickly when Reca pulled away to go back to setting up the second projector.
Reca always did stress the importance of authenticity, from outsourcing as many props he could from antique malls or elsewhere to getting as genuine of a reaction he could from any actor he was working with. This went all the way to using the same format a movie was originally premiered no matter the occasional flickers of static you were catching. They were simply part of the charm. At least, that's what always Reca says.
He exuded love for his craft, letting it bleed into him to the point that nothing else could distract Reca when he got going. It left you with nothing to do but groan and look down at the Assistant Director now that your phone was safely tucked away in your back pocket. She was currently occupying the seat next to yours, her little webbed feet comfortably sinking into the plush cushions below her. “Can you believe him? He's the one that suggested watching this, and yet-”
She simply croaked.
And you couldn't understand her at all. Still… “I'm glad you agree with me.”
Her little webbed foot reached out to smack your finger, stopping you from fixing her beret back in place as the metal met your extended digit, causing you to cry out a small ouch.
Briefly, you swore you could hear Reca snickering to himself, most likely because he actually heard what the Assistant Director said. “She doesn't. Far from it, in fact, but I can appreciate the rigor of your attempt to get her to side with you.”
“Thanks.”
“You are so very welcome!”
Sighing to yourself, you sank further in your chair, letting the soft velvet material swallow you into its embrace. Reca's assurances of “one more minute” were commonplace when he was enjoying himself, and at this point, you knew it was just easier to let him have his fun.
It was only when you heard something be slotted into place and Reca assuring himself that “yes, that works” did he join you, taking up the seat to your left with crossed legs and a hand taking your own. Your intertwined hands laid on the arm rest between you both, blocking Reca off from sprawling himself over your lap like he would usually try to whenever he could. Though, given the spark in his eye, you could already tell he was considering it anyway. Back problems be damned.
“Now, settle in and be prepared to be awed.”
At his insistence, you turned your eyes away from his wild gesturing and looked back over at the screen.
It was a simple scene, clearly fit for the beginning of a film still trying to lay out its setting for the viewer.
The backdrop of the park changed to a bustling street full of people as the two main characters, both man and woman, tried their best to wade through the tide of the crowd.
It was only a second later as the wide cityscape was pictured, spreading far and wide across the screen with buildings sweeping by, did the title card finally make its appearance in large, loopy writing.
The movie played on as your grip on Reca’s hand got tighter and tighter.
Eagerly, he told you every little detail about the film, adding in details about the characters that Reca promises won't spoil the story, problems during production he learned secondhand, what props were so infamous they were stored away for safekeeping, and anything else that seemed to randomly come to his mind. Truly, he would be amazing in movie trivia. You could even picture him in your mind's eye, wowing everyone with his collective of fun facts and gaining the ire of those aiming to win because of course he would. That's just how your Reca is.
Your Reca….
Your grip on his hand got tighter to the point you could feel the creases of his gloves digging into your skin.
“And you see that actor there? She was originally planning to turn down her role before being convinced otherwise by the director. That truly goes to show you that only the greatest directors, such as I,” Reca's free hand fell to his chest, “know exactly what we're doing.”
“That's great, Reca.” You mumbled. Your voice faded off until it was barely audible. You could barely manage to get yourself to sound louder than a sigh from the moment you opened your mouth, but you still managed to push the assurance you were listening to him out.
His eyes fell on you, those red play buttons you usually loved to make fun of staring you down only for a harsh yell of “cut” to break through the air.
Your head immediately whipped around to Reca at his sudden exclamation, only for you to catch the sight of his fingers snapping together to pause the movie. The projector stilled on a single frame right as your jaw started to lock. Teeth grinding together. You only stopped when a dull ache started to form, causing your mouth to open in an attempt to say anything. Something.
“Couldn't you have just done that earlier to save us the trouble of the whole setup? Like-” Actually, it might just be best not to question how Reca's powers work.
“You.”
His finger was in your face before you could even say the word “me” in a questioning tone.
“Yes, you. You have been acting out of character since the moment you got here.”
Behind you, the Assistant Director croaked.
“She agrees as well.” Reca politely translated.
The temptation to ask what your usual character is snuck up, creeping up behind you on tiptoes and daring to jump out so you could divert this entire conversation onto another track, but you knew when Reca actually bothered to be serious about something there wasn't much point in trying to dodge his questioning. He would get his answers eventually, sometimes in the oddest of ways.
“Okay. I…”
Yet you still couldn't say it.
Not that you had to when Reca said it for you.
“It's the papers, isn't it?”
Your lips pursed. “You do know most people don't call online news ‘papers’ these days, right?”
“I am simply adlibbing a line or two. A little off script verbiage keeps things fresh.” Leaning in towards you Reca said “like making sure you're okay. I can't have my love interest focusing on anything but this scene. After all, there's no passion if your mind is elsewhere.”
“And we can't have that?”
“Why, not at all!”
His hand took your chin, tilting it his way just to make sure you couldn't miss the soft smile he was wearing exclusively for you.
“Everything they said is nonsense, sugarbear.”
Your half-hearted chuckle at his classic, but still just as terrible as ever, pet names tampered off quickly when those words, typed in black and white, flickered across your mind's eye. Both your and Reca’s names were side by side in bold print at the top of an article talking about your relationship. That's how you discovered people thought you weren't with him as a loving partner, but as a clout chaser. They claimed that just because you were a upping comer in the industry, that meant you were a willing leech to his fame. That you were trying to use Reca to make your big break. It was as if they thought your entire being could be summarized with one measly word: a sycophant.
“I don't know, Reca. I mean…”
“Journalists always spit drivel. This is just their newest garbage put to the written word.”
You couldn't help but agree even when your voice was still weak and sounded nothing like you, but then again, so did those articles. They could come up with whatever they wanted, pick a new shiny label to slap onto your name and call it a story.
Right now, they had all the power, and all you could do was curl up and watch the comments agree that, yes, you are just using their beloved Director Reca.
Maybe in the next one, you'll be labeled a gold digger, too, or a Reca obsessed fangirl that can't think of anything else. You could almost see the comments now, claiming you'd say something like “do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, Reca” because all you were in their eyes was a hollow shell of the obsessive girlfriend stereotype without anything else to you. They didn't even care that you had a story that made you you.
Hell, it was possible you weren't even a person in their eyes.
"Just...can we just get back to the movie?”
“I don't think so. Not yet, anyway.”
“But you told me you wanted to share one of your favorites with me.”
Reca's hand slid away from your chin, robbing the comfort you were taking in the feeling of his fingers against your skin only for those same slender digits to fall back on your nose and pinch it in his grasp. For a moment, he shook it, forcing your head along with the movement much to your annoyance. Your irritation only got worse when he started talking to you in a baby voice. “Well, now, aren't you being cockamamie? If you're so worried about it, I can perform a one man show, a true artist's version of this movie, especially for you.”
Immediately, you bat his hand away, muttering about how his nose privileges were being revoked.
“You're hopeless. Here I am in the dumps and you're talking about putting on a show.”
“Ah, so you do admit to letting that dredge of a story get to you.” Reca's hand fully pulled away from your poor nose to lay on his chest right over his heart. “You always love to pretend like nothing gets to you, but here you are admitting that what's being said has put a dampener on your mood yourself. Your growth would surely enrapture any audience.”
At this point, you had long since gotten used to Reca's manners of speech, but sometimes….
“This ‘audience’” you air quoted, “are the people online slandering my name because they think I'm using you.”
“No, in fact. I believe you have forgotten your most important audience members: Assistant Director and I. We both know you too well to ever think that's what your goal has been this entire time.”
You sighed. “Right. Of course.”
“Honey pie,” Reca cooed, dragging out the vowels as long as he could. “I know better. No actor could ever match the enthusiasm I catch a glint of in your eyes every time you see me. And trust me, I know a thing or two about acting.”
A thing or two felt like an understatement. Just the very idea that's all Reca knew after all the times he's talked about how great his skills as a director are had you huffing out a laugh. “You're ridiculous.”
“I'd gladly claim that title if it came from you.”
“And absurd.”
“And what else?”
“And a frivolous, silly man. You're a drama queen! And….and…”
Reca hummed, taking this far too nonchalantly for your liking as he peeked up at you through his bangs with a playful wink. He was the complete opposite to your current flustered state. “Perhaps instead of using the name “Mr Reca” at the end credits for my next film, we use one of your suggestions instead.”
You quickly shot that idea down.
“Well,” Reca's hands clapped together, “Now that we've gotten that built-up anger off our chests - though it's a shame I didn't stop to capture your performance - are you feeling better?”
“I'd feel better if I could yell at the journalist who posted the damn article without having it come back and bite me in the ass.”
“Oh I understand completely. I've gotten a bad review or two in my time from people who hadn't the slightest clue what they were talking about I couldn't forget about for weeks. It got so bad I could barely bring myself to hold a camera.”
“No way.”
You couldn't even picture it. Reca, moping around when he was in a creative rut, wasn't anything new to you, but to the point he couldn't even bring himself to line his eye up with a camera? It was almost unthinkable to you.
“Yes way, my precious little star. I could barely even bring myself to get out of bed some days”- that seemed like dramatization- “and was stuck simply lying around waiting for the thoughts plaguing me to finally be edited out of my mind.”
“You mean to be forgotten?”
“That's what I said!”
“Sure,” you drawled out.
“And eventually, I learned that letting those reviews get to me was doing nothing to help me. They weren't even film critics! Only random people weighing in their two cents on a movie they couldn't even understand when their media literacy was in the ground.”
You could already feel your eyes rolling involuntarily. “The horror.”
“Exactly! It was horrific! And now you're letting the same thing get to you. You're letting these people who have no experience in criticizing you get to you.”
That was….such a Reca way of getting his point across.
“You're….You're hopeless.”
“And you're smiling.”
“Involuntarily.”
Your grin had only widened as Reca leaned over the arm of the chair, just as you knew he wanted to, to plant a wet kiss on the cheek he didn't get before.
And another.
And another until you were lying beneath him with your legs kicking in the air as you tried to escape from the endless amounts of kisses you were being smothered with. You barely even noticed Assistant Director leaping out of the way so she wouldn't get crushed by your combined weights as his lips traveled from your forehead to your stomach Reca had exposed to the cool air, stale with the smell of popcorn, as he pushed it out of the way to rest his head on. Strands of his hair tickled your skin with every breath you took as you tried to recover from the giggling fit he had evoked.
When your laughter had finally calmed down, your hand brushed through Reca's hair, pushing it out of the way to catch a glimpse of him. With the light of the projector, you could clearly see him, handsome as ever, even when his face was half hidden by your belly. In a way, it was nice to see you next to him at the top of the latest news outlet article, because at least then people knew he was yours.
Your Reca.
“I'm still not happy about what they're saying about me, and I won't be able to forget it just like that, but thank you. For, uh, listening.”
“Of course, dear. Anytime.”
The articles would still be there tomorrow haunting the back of your mind, but for now you huddled close to Reca and welcomed his not so warm embrace as you two tried to get comfortable in the theaters chairs.
“Do you still want to watch the movie?” You asked as you looked back over at the screen. Funnily enough, the two leads were together again, holding each other tight just like you were with Reca, if not a bit more gracefully.
“Unfortunately I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down this time.”
A surprised guffaw escaped you as your attention snapped back down to Reca at his refusal to watch a film- of all things.
“I meant it when I said you would get a performance: a play featuring Assistant Director and I that would be worthy of the silver screen. By the time we're done, you'll be rewarding us with a standing ovation. As you already know, I never disappoint my audience.”
Ignoring his wink, you asked: “and how are you planning to do that splayed across me like a blanket?”
“Your doubt in my acting ability hurts.” Reca whined, a single gloved hand already going up to fall across his forehead. “I assure you I could wow you on your lap or in the grandest of theaters with all spotlights trained on the stage and waiting for the show to commence…but I simply wanted one more minute like this.”
Your hand brushed through his hair again, running through the strands until you were playing with the white ends of his graying hair. It wrapped around your fingers easily, and with a single tug, you captured his attention.
“One more minute, then.”
#word count: 3k#hoyoverse#x reader#honkai sr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#mr reca#mr reca x reader#reca x reader#mr reca x you#mr reca x y/n#fem reader#banner by sister-lucifer#/glasswrites
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chan and his 1st child/yt.com

creator. [subtitles/translations.]
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 intro: hello my fellow smoothbrained friends. welcome or welcome back! today we will be taking a look at some bangju moments over the past (almost) 6 years with stray kids that never fail to warm my heart <3 if you like these kinds of posts consider interacting or sharing your favorite moment! thank you! now to what we’re really here for :)
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 stray kids survival show
splayed under the blue light from his computer screen, chan’s dexterity over the mouse begins to slow followed by heavy eyes fighting against the cozy weight of gravity lulling him to sleep, his loss against this force signified by his slowed, deep breaths.
[using the track as a lullaby, he goes straight to dreamland]
speeding up the footage reveals a better understanding as to how long he really sat asleep in his chair until a cut transitions to his new position leaned against the back, somewhat sitting up still with the room light shining bright as ever above his head.
[but, it sounds like someone’s at the door!]
soft shuffling footsteps reveal a squinting juyeon with major bed-head. [it’s the members’ mother hen!] carefully she reaches across the sleeping boy to his mouse, sliding it around on his track pad a bit clicking here and there, and then the screen goes black. [taking care of the leader making sure his work was saved. but…] she then turns and waddles out of view again. [what is she doing?]
the audible flip of a light switch shrouds the room in darkness, and from within this darkness, juyeon’s whispered coos could be heard.
[JY: oppa. come on,]
[BC: hm?]
[JY: to bed. everything is saved, just get under the covers.]
[~hardworking leader chan gets tucked in bed by angel juyeon, who looks after the member responsible for the rest. as long as he’s got her by his side, chan’s well taken care of.~]
[JY: sleep well, channie~]
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 finding skz running man
stopping near the carousel in the center of the mall chan sighs heavily with his hands on his hips, catching his breath as he scanned over the layout once more. “ah — i really don’t know. i haven’t seen her at all.”
after pausing to listen for any movement within the building - and only hearing the commotion from the other boys - chan turns with a mischievous smile toward the camera man “do you know where she is? have you seen her?”
[meanwhile…]
cut to juyeon narrowly avoiding seungmin as he came down the hall, crouching to duck behind one of the arcade machines just in time for him to pass by without noticing the older girl. the second she decided he was far enough was when she took off in the opposite direction with the cameramen racing to keep up with her.
juyeon comes to a stop once she reaches the main room, the lights from the carousel twinkling in her wide eyes once she spots the blonde boy across the room.
[like a deer in the headlights, billie appears!]
chan is already looking in her direction as he throws his hands up mousily. “wait,” he says, masking the ulterior motives apparent to everyone but juyeon “will you help me?”
“help you?” she repeats, still as a statue whilst chan ambles over to bridge the gap between them. [will she fall for the leader's trick?]
“have you seen felix?”
a suspicious smile grows on juyeon's lips as he draws closer and her own palms raise defensively, taking half a step back from the boy whose mask of innocence had begun to slip the closer he got. "oppa." she says like an accusation. a bright smile dawns on chan's face.
"i'm not after you."
juyeon is now fully backpedaling. [she doesn't believe him] "oppa, have mercy."
there is a brief pause as chan seemingly weighs his options with his eyes still locked on hers, his jolly grin becoming more and more pixy with each passing millisecond before he abruptly lunges forward for her with outstretched hands to grab her nametag. juyeon nearly threw herself into one of the pillars behind her to protect the name on her back.
"please! you're my favorite member!"
chan now stops just before her with eyebrows knitting together before he laughs at her interesting tactic. "i'm your favorite?"
"totally," juyeon giggles "especially when you give me a five second head start."
"more than changbin?" he adds, prodding at her will to bargain. she simply tilts her head.
"who?"
[and with that, the deal is sealed]
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 2 kids room
“honestly,” chan starts, removing the lollipop stuffed in his cheek as he sat criss-cross on the blue corduroy couch “i love this hair color on you.”
“really?” asked juyeon with a surprised smile, whose fiery red hair had become a hot topic recently. he hummed.
“i think red suits you well. of course you’re always pretty but the red really catches peoples eye.”
now giggling bashfully, juyeon subconsciously tucked an aforementioned red strand behind her ear to reveal her peachy cheeks, eyes sparkling with appreciation despite her response. "you've been suspiciously supportive recently — i feel like i need to look out for blackmail or something.”
“what is that supposed to mean?!” the leader shrilled, almost pouting, arms flying to fold across his chest teasingly at her insinuation. however, this feigned offense was quickly replaced by the smile accompanying his laughter at her mirroring of his demeanor.
“you know i can’t accept compliments!!”
“well! —” he began with the same chaotic energy before abruptly halting himself to instead dial it back with a nonchalant shrug “that’s okay, at least you know.”
juyeon, peeling open her eyes squeezed shut to hide from the embarrassment, now dropped the arms crossed tight against her chest and subsequently her guard. she spoke in a soft hum to mutter, “it is nice to know, though. i do appreciate it…”
“good. you should know how precious you are.”
“ew!”
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 chan’s room phone call
“hmm…was it a different name?” chan mumbles, more to himself than the stay watching his livestream as he searched for that particular day6 song he wanted to talk about, eyes quickly scanning over the titles in hopes of finding ‘the one.’
“oh! here it is.”
he begins playing ‘i loved you’ before sitting back in his chair to intently listen along with stay. it begins with the buzzing of crickets before jumping right into the members’ gorgeous and clear voices, and after only half a minute or so of nodding his head along with their labelmates past masterpiece, the discernible buzz of his phone against the table quickly catches his attention.
“oh!” he pauses the music to pick up his phone “it’s bibiya! let’s see what chu’s up to.”
chan answers her call below stay’s view, indicating that she’d actually facetimed him, made glaringly apparent by the bloop! as it connected. if that wasn’t evidence enough then surely juyeon’s squeaky voice coming through the speaker did, the leaders face lighting up prior to his laugh.
“sorry!! i just remembered about your live!”
chan quickly turned the volume down as he chuckled “it’s okay! the more the merrier. do you want to say hi?”
“yeah! can stay hear me?”
he nodded, eyes flicking up to filter through the live comments now buzzing with her name.
“helloooo stayyy! is channie entertaining you well? don’t forget about his weekly sunday live like i did. uh…make sure to eat well and get lots of rest!!”
chan would giggle before pulling his eyes from the comments and back to the screen out of view. “do you want me to call you back?” he asked quietly, wary of the audience listening in on the reason why she called “i’ll be done in 30.”
“oh — that’s okay — i just wanted to know if you still wanted to watch that movie with me tonight.”
the leaders eyebrows raised high, eyes panning up to the live almost like a scene from the office before looking back down at the girl on his screen.
“did you forget?”
“no! i remember!” he blatantly lied with a giggle “we’ll sit down to watch it as soon i get home, okay?”
there was an exasperated sigh before her response. “okayyyy. have fun with the rest of your live. bye bye stay!”
chan would mutter his own goodbyes to his bandmate before she hung up, and then his focus would immediately shift back up to the audience before him, a bashful blush dusting his cheeks as he laughed once more.
“i definitely forgot about the movie tonight. don’t tell joong.”
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 dinner w/ billie live
“okay, next!” juyeon turns from the pot of noodles boiling on the stovetop to then grab the jar of alfredo sauce on the counter “this is my favorite pasta of all time — after jjajangmyeon — so we’re gonna use a lot of it.”
the pajama-clad girl then attempts to open the lid using both hands, her face screwing together with pursed lips as she visibly uses all her might to twist the top off. “oh, man,” she wheezes, resting to glance up at the comments before trying again “it’s really on there!”
juyeon now readjusts her grip to get as much of her hand on the lid as possible, her other holding the jar tight as to not drop it before taking another shot at opening the precious sauce, nearly folding into herself at the waist as she once again fails to unscrew the lid.
“jeez! did they glue it on there or something?” she huffs “why is it so difficult? that’s so rude.”
for a moment she stands there in front of the camera, dumbfounded and red-faced as she looks over the jar like there was another method hidden underneath, before holding her index up to the audience now laughing at her struggles.
“hold on,” she says while backing toward one of the bedroom doors she’d banished the boys to while she was on live “don’t go anywhere! i’ll be back!”
thankfully, due to the positioning of the camera she’d set up in the kitchen, stay were still able to see juyeon as she waddled over to knock on one of the wooden doors with mumbles of ‘the stupid jar.’ this door would then open to reveal a comfy-looking and barefaced chan with a smile already on his face as he exited the darkness and entered the living room to take the jar from her.
it would only take him the few seconds of a walk back into the kitchen to then successfully pop open the blasphemous lid that had publicly defeated juyeon. he’d outwardly laugh as she stole the now-opened jar from his hands, a vexed frown on her lips.
“i loosened it for you.”
“oh i’m sure.”
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 stray kids survival show
[the members are hard at work, practicing their performance relentlessly to polish even the smallest of details before presenting themselves before jyp and yg in the morning]
the group looks wholly exhausted as the song then comes to a close, their heaving breaths and faces glistening with sweat acting as a visual indicator to how eager they were to give a good performance in front of not only their own boss but also yg and his trainees, hands flying to rest on their hips as they tromped over to their water bottles.
the boys’ quick disperse from the formation in the middle subsequently revealed a haggard-looking juyeon with her fingers interlocked behind her head. a quick zoom-in on the panting girl would expose her trembling bottom lip as she blinked rapidly before cranking her neck to look up at the lights on the ceiling.
[juyeon looks troubled]
chan, sitting in the right hand corner of the screen as he messed with the speaker, could be seen with his attentive leader gaze on the red-faced girl. to the untrained eye — namely the viewers watching who still didn’t know the members very well — his furrowed brow and pursed lips could easily be read as irritation towards the black sheep of the group. however, the speed with which he stood in order to be by her side after she turned her back indicated otherwise.
[leader chan is quick to check in on his members when they’re struggling]
“hey,” he hummed, placing a hand between her shoulders to seclude them from the other boys “you okay?”
chan’s soothing presence would be the catalyst that revealed juyeon’s true state even as her back was turned to the camera, face hidden from view as her frail, shaky voice exposed the tears she’d fought to conceal.
“yeah — sorry — ts’stupid”
“hey,” he’d say again, now moving to stand in front of her to catch her gaze “what’s up?”
juyeon shook her head, dropping her interlocked fingers to instead wipe the tears on her cheeks. “i don’t know — nothing — i’m good”
“talk to me, joong. you don’t have to find the right words, just tell me how you’re feeling.”
[although juyeon tried to hide her troubles, chan won’t let her suffer alone]
“m’just…scared. what they’ll think — what they’ll say…”
chan’s response was immediate; certain and encouraging as he brushed her hair from her face. “that’s okay, ju. it’s okay to be scared. it’s okay to worry about what people will think, we all do, but you can’t let it eat at you. they’ll say what they’re gonna say, but at the end of the day, you’re still the talented juyeon we know you are — you know you are. don’t let the fear stop you from doing what you love.”
with this, juyeon sighs. she stands there for a moment to take in his encouraging words, marinating his verbal and nonverbal support in her mind before nodding shortly once more.
“we’ll all be there to back you up, ju. always.”
[juyeon may be anxious about tomorrow, but she has her boys to stand behind her, and they’ll defend her to the ends of the earth]
#♡ billie#♡ bangju#skz oc#stray kids oc#stray kids 9th member#stray kids imagines#kpop added member#kpop oc#kpop addition#bang chan imagines#not the happiest with how this turned out but i really wanted something to be up today!#i hope you enjoy and i hope to be posting something new soon!
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WHEN MC IS BILINGUAL
You speak the common language with the brothers, but because of your culture and nationality, you actually know how to speak another language (what you can speak is up to you ofc).
This is under the idea that despite being ancient demons, they don’t bother learning about how to speak other human languages and you guys communicate through English ">_<)!!
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Lucifer
He already knew this when he viewed your profile during the exchange student selection. It was already on your form so he guessed that you knew one or more languages.
He doesn’t admit it, but whenever you start talking in another language it fascinates him. That part of you makes you unique to his eyes after all.
If he had the time, he would love to learn about your language and maybe how to speak it himself. But with all the paperwork he has in the student council? Maybe he’ll save that idea for another date.
He would love spending time and learning new words from you, even about your culture, over a glass of Demonus.
It’s funny to him when he watches you struggle trying to translate a word from your native language to english. He finds it cute even.
“Tell me, how do you say endearing in your language? Because that’s what you are to me right now, love.”
Mammon
He found out once when you both were caught by Lucifer doing something up to no good. You muttered something under your breath and Mammon spent the entire lecture trying to think what you actually said.
You had to explain to him that you grew up knowing how to speak two different languages and he won’t believe you until you try to say a phrase.
Boy is shocked. You’re not only smart and reliable, but now he thinks you’re cool too!
He would probably keep asking you to translate a lot of words in your language. But given it’s Devildom, you have to explain that they’re too foreign to translate.
“Hey MC, Can ya teach me how to say ‘Lucifer is an Idiot’ in your language? If i learned then he won’t even know it!”
There’s a big chance he’ll butcher the pronunciation. Plus, Lucifer caught on quickly and scolded Mammon before giving you a warning of teaching him inappropriate phrases next time.
Levi
When one of the characters he was watching spoke in your language, he was so shocked to know that you were able to understand the language without subtitles.
To him it’s amazing! at least you’ll get to enjoy all the mangas and animes in more languages. To him, that’s a dream.
He would ask how certain phrases from TSL would sound if you translated it. It would be fun to imagine if Henry can speak another language like you can.
If the Lord of Shadow and Henry had lines together, he would love to learn how to speak them with you.
“I-it’ll be like they have their own secret language together! To make their bond stronger! So I wanted to learn how to say a few words i-if it’s okay with you?”
He would fumble a bit but if he really puts his mind to it, he’ll be fluent in a few phrases.
Satan
He saw that you were reading a book and when he asked to see what it was, he was shocked to see it in a language he couldn't understand.
He starts to ask more about your language and literature exclusively available in it, at least the ones you remember at the top of your head.
Would be probably the one who would put more of an effort to learn your language, even the semantics and honorifics.
He feels that learning your language would help him grow closer to you at a much deeper and personal level.
“Of course I think that learning how to read in it is exciting, but I really want to be able to connect to you more. Would you teach me this time?”
Give him enough time and he’ll be fluent in it. He has this devious smirk whenever his brothers get jealous every time you both have conversations they can’t understand.
Asmo
The moment he heard you say something in a different language, he would cup your face and look into your eyes with so much interest and curiosity “say that again darling?”
Would have the biggest smile on his face every time you speak your language around him because at least you’re comfortable doing so around him.
Though every time you do, he will not stop pestering until you tell him what it means.
He’d probably joke about wanting to learn phrases to help enhance his charms and seduction to a broader audience.
“Sweetie of course I was joking! But it makes me wonder. If I did learn, would that make you fall for me more?”
Knowing that you can speak another language makes him want to brag to other demons. Nothing about you is ordinary at all, and this just adds up to the list of what makes you so special to him.
Beel
During your stay in the twins room, it was brought up in one of your conversations with him and since then he’s been fascinated.
Would ask a lot about the culture you grew up from, especially food related ones if you have native dishes.
He would probably ask you about any translations that revolve around the language of food. The first phrase he’d probably memorize is “I’m hungry”
Though it helps, because it’s like your secret code for you to grab him a few snacks since you understood. He would whisper that during class and you’d hand him the little snacks that you bring along everywhere for these occasions.
“I think it’s cool that you can speak another language. It’s just like us demons then. We’re not too different.”
Whenever you’d express yourself in your own language, there’s a small smile on his face. It’s like he’s seeing a different and more personal side of you.
Belphie
He knew that humans can speak several languages during the early times that he stayed up in the human realm, though he didn’t expect you’d be one of them.
He’s half-awake when he heard you the first time but didn’t believe it, until he caught you trying to explain a phrase to Beel.
Since he was the last of the brothers to find out (due to his time in the attic) then he’d whine and ask you to entertain his questions.
The interest and curiosity he had when he first loved humans never left, he just won't admit it but you can still see it in his eyes when you talk about your world.
“You know how me and Beel have some sort of telepathic connection? I want that for us too MC.”
Just like Satan, he would’ve loved to learn your language. If only his drowsiness didn’t get in his way from actually learning it, since sometimes he would fall asleep mid lesson.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios
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BEFORE DINNER: HOW DID SIMON GET SO FUCKED UP?
Great art takes risks, and 2020’s cult hit Dinner In America took a huge one by making its male lead incredibly off-putting. Kyle Gallner’s Simon has off-the-charts anger issues, commits arson, sells drugs at an arcade, lies easily, curses loudly in public, has little to no respect for other people (“my dad’s allergic” “fuck your dad”), makes creepy sexual remarks and then acts like it was a joke, goes through cigarettes like he needs them to live—but by the end, you root for him. He defends Patty when no one else will, stands by his convictions, and is without a doubt an incredible musician.

He's a punk with just one patch on his jacket: an Eagle Scout badge over his heart. It’s the highest honor that a Boy Scout can earn, requiring demonstration of leadership, good citizenship, 21 merit badges, and the final piece: an extensive individual service project benefiting the scout’s local community.
Eagle Scouts are overrepresented in politics, clergy, the military, and NASA’s career astronauts. Even if it's technically secular, the Boy Scouts of America is an intensely Christian organization—very often troops are organized by churches, not schools.
Scout Law dictates that scouts be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent (to God). All things that, you know, totally sound like Simon, the guy with a grown-out mohawk and an upside-down American flag hanging in his bedroom. He’s so clearly against conformity that it’s hard to imagine him ever being interested in wearing a uniform and building rope bridges. PSYOPS lyrics are blatantly anti-Christian, too (“fanatical religious right, pray with you because you’re white” based on the subtitles on Hulu).
The hypothesis I am proposing is that Simon earned the rank of Eagle Scout because doing so would allow him to receive his parents’ permission to do something else he really wanted to do—start a band. Maybe for his Eagle Project, he turned a storage closet into a recording studio for the high school music department. Simon goes big. Fuck building benches.
I was in Brownies through my elementary school for three years in the late 90s. We went camping, sold Trefoils, milked goats, and made gak. Our troop leader was the mom of one of the other girls, and when needed, additional chaperones were always more moms. I had a great time. Across the United States, most Boy Scouts are similarly unharmed as they get out of the house and learn basic survival skills.
Youth organizations have a problem, though—they attract people who want access to kids. I watched a documentary on Netflix last year, Scout’s Honor: The Secret Files of the Boy Scouts of America, illustrating how for decades the BSA protected child molesters on a level that rivals even the Catholic Church. Simple background checks for scoutmasters were considered inconvenient and too expensive for an organization largely run by volunteers, and the BSA refused to risk their Norman Rockwell reputation by acknowledging the issue. Men who were red-flagged as abusers could easily pop up again with another troop, since no database of “ineligible volunteers” was available to the public, and the BSA did not report crimes to the police. Deep shame and rampant homophobia meant survivors very often did not reveal the abuse they suffered until well into adulthood.
I have been thinking about this a lot with regard to Simon—maybe you saw my other, much more informal text post—but I am not qualified to (and really, really don’t want to) write fic exploring what the fuck could have happened to make him the way he is. Instead, I’m writing this essay about it. Proceed if you like to be sad!
[content warnings, obviously: discussion of CSA by an authority figure, post-traumatic stress disorder, substance abuse]
HYPOTHESIS: Becoming an Eagle Scout was the only way that Simon’s parents would let him pursue music.
Abuse in adolescence can affect how people learn to control their emotions later in life. Anger problems are especially prevalent with PTSD when the victim has been betrayed by others or exploited.
In the film, Simon has a pretty acrimonious relationship with everyone in his family apart from Danny. I don’t really buy that he was abused at home, though. It’s more likely that his family loves him but he’s out of control, and he is. Simon’s basement bedroom is full of instruments—it’s even more “fuckin’ tits” than Kevin’s bunk bed and guinea pigs. He used to be someone they trusted with a key.
So let’s assume that Simon was being molested by his scoutmaster as a teenager. If quitting the BSA meant he wouldn’t get to start a band, he’d be completely trapped.
Telling his parents would result in one of two options: they’d either assume he was making it up to get out of doing the work (do nothing but start a fight), or believe him and pull him out entirely, get the police involved, risk everyone at school finding out. And telling wouldn’t guarantee that he’d get to focus on music—surely Simon’s parents would rather he go off to college and get a degree in something reliable, as his siblings did. Becoming an Eagle Scout was the compromise because his parents figured it was an impossible task.
There’s no question that if that scoutmaster knew about the deal with his parents, it would have been used against him. If you don’t let me do this, you won’t get that merit badge you need, and if you don’t get that merit badge you need, you can kiss your dreams goodbye...
In the beginning, back in Cub Scouts, Simon could very well have bought what the organization was selling. Maybe he wasn’t jaded yet, wasn’t disillusioned, wasn’t quite old enough to think for himself. But if the man teaching Simon to respect the flag, do what he’s told, help others, set a good example, believe in God, and be a responsible, contributing member of society was also the one pulling his pants down, convincing him he had no power or worth, Simon might well have ended up doing a complete 180 against those ideals.
Maybe that piece of shit eyed him all the time, made him feel unsafe even from the other side of a room, and now he blows up at people staring at him in restaurants.
This experience could also, perhaps, motivate Simon to use his newfound power as an adult to protect other vulnerable people from bullying, like Patty.
The church angle works too. Simon knew immediately how to manipulate Patty’s dad. He fabricated the story about Tanzania and the prayer like it was nothing, and it would have been easy for him to do if he was steeped in that environment for years.
And then, of course, there’s the drugs—classic self-medication. A way to stop constantly thinking about stuff he doesn’t want to think about. Research has shown that traumatic experiences in childhood often lead to substance use disorders. Even if Simon’s not doing dope while he’s hanging out with Patty, he certainly has been addicted in the past. His parents have likely paid for him to go to rehab, maybe more than once. Substance abuse does make people lie to and steal from their families. Simon’s sister is an asshole at dinner, but her suspicion is probably not unfounded.
That wouldn’t have been where the lying started, though. He’d have been holding back the secret of his abuse since it began, giving poor excuses for injuries, and lashing out. Traumatic experiences, especially at a young age, can rewire your brain and change your personality. Addictive drugs can, too. He’s not the same person anymore.
Simon needed help, and he never got it.
More than 82,000 former boy scouts have come forward about sexual abuse that they experienced as children in the BSA. Criminal background checks only became mandatory for all scoutmasters and volunteers in 2008.
Maybe for Simon, wearing the badge is his way of saying, “You didn’t beat me. I deserve to be here. I earned the right to start a band.”
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SOURCES: Boy Scouts of America (Wikipedia) Eagle Scouts (Wikipedia) Scout’s Honor: The Secret Files of the Boy Scouts of America (Netflix) Anger and Trauma (National Center for PTSD) Trauma and Stress (National Institute on Drug Abuse)
Support for survivors of abuse in the BSA is available here.
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okay but no this is is bothering me now
I hold this wild fandom position that the little rant in Thor 1: No Subtitle, Just Thor where Loki goes on about how Odin hates him and must have a sinister plan in mind should not be taken as the literal truth because it's the paranoid fears of someone shaken and scared, but this does not seem to convince anyone else for some reason.
However! There is one line in it that's definitely, demonstrably wrong, isn't there? The bit about "you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard", because JUST IN CASE any of us have forgotten what happens later in the film:

This is not like when he pretended to be Odin between films, this tells me that there is no legal impediment to Loki being king of Asgard. And you might say "well, duh" but saying that means accepting that A Frost Giant On The Throne Of Asgard was always a real possibility. By raising the foundling as his own legitimate biological son Odin has placed him second in the line of succession after Thor, made no move to exclude this new son, and the lack of any younger siblings suggests no real concern over the fact that Loki is not just the spare he is the only spare.
Odin could simply have admitted that this new prince was adopted (without necessarily saying from where), or claimed he was his own but illegitimate, or some other explanation I can't be bothered to think up right now. The point is, this was not an inevitable flaw in whatever shit plan Odin may or may not have had, it's an intended or at least accepted outcome.
And no, Thor can't just be safely immortal, because then Odin's immortal and Thor isn't needed in the first place.
"Oh but Frigga -" DELETED scene, doesn't count... BUT if it did then Frigga is willing to place a Frost Giant on etc etc even if it's only as a regent and she isn't worried about Odin reacting negatively to that decision when he gets out of his convenient coma.
What I'm getting at, of course, is that at least one part of 'Loki Odinson Reacts To Adoption News (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)' was clearly bollocks, yet people still quote it as fact and as well as the rest of it which might also be - to use a clever literary term - bollocks.
edit: i used the same screencap again which is Bad but look the meme says the same as this post but in less words:
#thor brackets twenty eleven close brackets#i can't call this meta i'm just pointing out the glaringly obvious here#i hope it's not going be like when i told everyone the emperor was naked and everyone just got mad at me and threw cabbages :(#on the other hand i did get free cabbages out of that incident
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