#maybe cause I’m up and she doesn’t want me to be???

[whosstella]

Why jiara is actually the worst ship. In s1 ,yes, they had chemistry and all that but we can clearly see that it changed quickly and it’s really not the same from s2. The whole pope and kie breaking up felt as random as their whole relationship. Then they made jiara which somehow felt even more forced than pope and kie’s break up. No real reason as to why they’re together, no real relationship/romance building apart from very few scenes in s3. And all of the sudden they’re….something. Kie saying I love you dude was the most random line ever in the show. S4 jiara was probably the worst part of the season apart from the end. Kiara was literally the worst gf for JJ and maybe worst overall character in the show. She was never there for JJ when he really needed her (while he literally left everyone behind and a plane for eldorado and broke her out of the wilderness camp thing AND he was there when all the shit happened with her parents), she just let him get drunk off his ass for weeks on end without doing anything to help him. He told her specifically not to tell anyone about his real father and first thing she does is tell jb and Sarah. She didn’t even hug him when he told her. After he almost died ,again,she basically ignored him from that point on until the last episode. She watched him get stabbed and JUST STOOD there and the SHES all revenge and shit?? Bruh come on who are you trying to fool??? Cause you ain’t fooling me. It would have been better if they both had completely new love interests and I really hope they do that in s5,JJ deserves so much better than gf who doesn’t give a single fuck abt him. I could honestly go on and on abt this but I think you get my point.

P.S.: I don’t even want to comment on the Madelyne situation 😭 I’m just so sad abt it 🥲🧍🏻‍♀️

[rachelsfav-queer]

Maybe A Boy? Pt. 2

(Part 1)

Yoko and Divina chat idly while they wait. They were told, very cryptically, to meet Wednesday here at the Weathervane to talk about something. They, of course, asked Enid to make sure that the seer wasn’t planning on killing them or anything, which the blonde assured them that the young Addams just had something to tell them and was simply anxious about it, while also drilling into them that Wednesday was being very brave doing this and that they, quote, “better be nice to my babycakes or I’m personally hunting you both down” which was… strange, but par for the course these days, honestly.

Eventually, the little devil arrived and quickly spotted them, and went to order a cup of coffee before joining them at the booth they chose, sitting down opposite the girls. And then Wednesday just sorta… stared at them, for a bit.

When they realized that Wednesday wasn’t going to speak first, despite calling them here, Divina opted to begin the conversation in hopes to start this off smoothly and friendly.

Divina: Hey, Wednesday! How are you doing?

Finally, after staring for a few moments more, Wednesday responds.

Wednesday: I am… well, Divina. I assume you’re both well, too?

The couple nodded together, so much for not making this awkward. Eventually, Wednesday sighs and looks down at the table, seemingly thinking deeply about something before speaking again.

Wednesday: I also assume that Enid, after you sought her to ensure this wasn’t a trap, told you that I had something to tell you both… and that I am particularly anxious about doing so. I first want to assure you both that my anxiety is in no way due to either of you or the merits of your characters, simply that the matter I wish to speak of is a… sensitive one and I am still in the process of figuring everything out myself.

Wednesday: Though Enid took it well, I also know that the nature of my relationship with her highly differs from the nature of my relationship with either of you or any of my other friends. But, you have both proven to be strong allies and are undoubtedly important figures in my life and I deem your opinions of me to be of importance to me.

Wednesday’s speech comes to a close and Yoko and Divina are left a little confused and a little concerned as well, as the slight anxiety in Wednesday’s voice grew clearer as the seer spoke. Something deep inside Yoko builds up, telling her how to respond. She’s not sure where it came from, but it feels… protective over the tiny goth. When she looks over at Divina, she can tell that the siren is experiencing the same feeling inside. Yoko looks back at Wednesday and speaks…

Yoko: Hey, little goth. Whatever it is you want to tell us, we’re a safe space, okay? We’re not gonna judge you or anything like that. I mean, unless you’re gonna pull us into a murder plot, cause then we might have a prob-

Yoko’s attempt at a joke is cut off by a sharp elbow to her ribs from her girlfriend and she’s a little grateful for it, as she realizes that it was very much not appropriate at this time.

Divina: What Yoko’s trying to say is that you don’t have to be afraid, Wednesday. We’re here and we’re listening. You can talk to us about anything, we promise. *lightly glares at Yoko*

The girls’ antics seemingly relieve some of the tension at the table and inside Wednesday, as the psychic’s anxious look turns into a tiny smirk for a brief second, but it’s more than enough and what comes next doesn’t seem so scary for Wednesday.

Wednesday: Thank you. Alright, I shall rip off the metaphorical bandage, I suppose. As I said, I’m still in the process of figuring it all out, but recently I have come to the conclusion that I no longer identify as a girl. I identify as a boy, or something along the lines of masculinity. I am… transgender.

Yoko and Divina don’t waste a second, they immediately accept Wednesday and begin lauding support.

Yoko: Oh thank the gods! I know I was joking before but I really was worried that you were gonna drag us into a murder plot! *turns to Divina* Hey! Don’t hit me again! I mean, you have to admit, it’s not exactly off-brand for he- Oh, shit! I mean, what pronouns do you go by now?

Wednesday: I would prefer he/him, but solely in private for the moment. I would like to come out to all the important people in my life first before I make my transition public. As for my name, I will be sticking with my original name. It is appropriately gender-neutral for my preferences.

Yoko: *nods* Of course. So, anyway, you have to admit it’s not off-brand for him to do something like that!

Divina simply rolls her eyes and ignores her girlfriend and focuses on Wednesday instead, looking him in the eyes.

Divina: Thank you for telling us this, Wednesday, and for trusting us with it. We’re both so proud of you.

Yoko: Yeah, like ‘Vina said, we’re damn proud of you, little goth. Coming out is never easy, even with people you trust and love, sometimes it’s harder cause their opinion matters more. But we still love you just the same, Wednesday. And hey, listen close.

Yoko leans in and lowers her sunglasses just enough to let Wednesday see her eyes and the seriousness in them.

Yoko: *lowly* If anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to give you shit? You come straight to me, understand? I know you can more than handle yourself, but I’m not letting anyone get away with hurting my little bro, got it?

Wednesday’s eyes widen at the vampire’s vow of protection and he feels tears brim his eyes, but he fights them back and nods solemnly.

Wednesday: Thank you, Yoko. Thank you both, for your kindness and your support. Like I said, your opinions mean much to me and I am grateful to have your acceptance. Thank you.

The girls both smile warmly at Wednesday and then look at each other, before looking back at Wednesday. Their smiles turn conspiratorial and it sets Wednesday’s guard up.

Wednesday: *straightens* What is it?

Divina: *slyly* Welllll… this is an important moment in our friendship together, so you know what that calls for, Yoko? *peeks over to Yoko*

Yoko’s smirk turns almost evil, though still genuine…

Yoko: It calls for… A Bestie Group Hug!

Wednesday’s eyes widen further, nearly popping out of her head as the girls rise slowly from the booth and stalk towards him, their arms opening in perfect sync.

Wednesday: *backing up in the booth* Wait, no. Do not! Tanaka, Watson, I am warning you both! Do NOT! No, no! Do not! I will stab you both and happily accept the consequences from Enid! I swear, I will stab you! I have multiple knives on my person! A wooden stake for you, TANAKA!! NO DON-

Wednesday’s protests are cut off as the vampire and siren pounce on him, wrapping him up tightly in a “Bestie Group Hug” and various hissing and growling sounds erupt from the pile. Luckily for Yoko and Divina, they are, in fact, not stabbed as the raven not-so-begrudgingly extends his arms around the two girls, grumbling about revenge and how it will be “slow and very painful”, though they ignore the threats as they continue to hug the boy, who eventually folds and leans into the embrace fully.

End <3

(A/N: Hello! I hope y’all enjoyed this part 2! Idk if it’s obvious yet, but I do plan on making this a little series of Wednesday coming out to the important people in his life. I wonder if y’all can guess who’s next? Anyway, this is slowly becoming a very important story to me and I want to tell it in a way that does it justice, like it deserves. I hope that I’ve done so thus far. Thank you for reading <3)

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I can’t imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing… going through death alone.”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - 8x6 "Confessions" through mid-season finale CODA or a "Fix it": “I can’t imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing… going through death alone.”

Chapter 6 is now available on AO3.

“I can’t imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing… going through death alone.”

Fic Summary: Eddie feels completely alone, he isolates himself and the weight of it causes him to slip into a deep depression. Once he accepts the fact that he’ll die alone, he has a decision to make regarding his life. Buck finally gets clarity about his relationship status and once he does, realization sets in and he becomes frustrated that he didn’t see it coming. Will they finally figure out they’re each other’s person before it’s too late?

Currently 6 of 10 chapters completed: 85.7K Words; Rated: Teens and Up Audiences

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 6 of Buck and Eddie talking while they're sitting inside of a restaurant and their eating breakfast.

___________

Eddie uses his napkin to wipe his mouth and after he takes another sip of his coffee, he says, “Buck, I’m going to be honest with you and explain that this is not going to be easy because my mom is controlling and when she wants something, she nags and belittles people… including family members until she gets it. She tries everything to undermine the other person and the things she says will hurt. I said all of that to say… this fight to get Chris won’t be easy and if she proceeds with a custody battle it’s going to be bad.”

Buck doesn’t break eye contact with him because he’ll do whatever it takes to help Eddie get his son back. He knows Eddie’s a great dad because he’s witnessed it with his own two eyes and he knows how much Eddie loves his son.

“When I changed my will, I should have told you about it but I didn’t and there’s a reason but I’m not in a good enough headspace to get into that yet. Once this stuff with Chris is resolved and I’ve unpacked it all in therapy, we’ll discuss it but me naming you to be his legal guardian was the best decision I’ve ever made. It wasn’t fair for me not to tell you about it and for that I apologize but it’s like I said before, I know you’ll fight for him the same way I do and that’s what I want for him. This custody battle will be ruthless and we both saw what Hen and Mara went through to get their foster license back but this is different. Things are likely to get very messy really fast and I want you to know that I understand if you don’t want to go with me. So, before we leave here to go to the airport…” He trails off when Buck starts talking.

“Eddie?”

“I’m serious, Buck. I understand and I’ll pay for your airfare, so you won’t have to worry.”

How will Buck respond to Eddie's offer to pay for his airfare so he won't have to go to El Paso? 👀

___________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie’s avoiding conversations with everyone at the 118 to prevent having to talk about how lonely he feels. On the other hand, Buck excitedly prepares to spend a romantic weekend with his boyfriend only to learn something he should already know.

Chapter 2 - Eddie appears to be happy whenever he’s at work but the truth is he’s masking his high-functioning depression with smiles and laughter. After another call with Chris, he falls deeper into depression and for the second time since he’s been living in L.A., he considers risking it all because he has nothing to lose. Since Buck’s got clarity on his non-existent romantic relationship, his fear of being left behind resurfaces and it causes him to spiral and he thinks he’s lost everything. In his search for answers to his relationship problems, he starts asking the questions he should have asked years ago.

Chapter 3 - Both Buck and Eddie experience déjà vu numerous times over the course of three days and during those encounters, Buck’s reminded of his own definition of love while defining moments from Eddie’s past resurface and he finally forces himself to confront them.

Chapter 4 - As Eddie hits rock bottom, he has a difficult time trying to pull himself back up and Buck does what he always does, he never gives up.

Chapter 5 - Buck’s inside Eddie’s home and he’s standing right in front of him explaining he’s here to help. Eddie’s happy to see him and he’s finally ready to make several confessions about the things that have been happening and the way he’s been feeling.

Chapter 6 - As Buck and Eddie prepare to leave Los Angeles for El Paso, Eddie initiates another conversation with Buck regarding his will and before it ends, they’ll outline a parenting and legal guardianship plan that will prove they’ve been coparenting Chris for the last 7 years and the way they’ve been doing it is in Chris’ best interest.

Chapter 7 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 8 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 9 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 10 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read: chapters 1 - 6 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[likelyamused]

Beginning / Previous / Next

Transcript below the cut.

Tuesday Nov 14 | 9:33 pm

Joana [text]: Ok guys! Is everything ready for Saturday?

Joana [text]: Celia will be here at 6. You need to be all here at 5:30

Shanna [text]: I found the PERFECT movie. Celia’s gonna love it!

Shanna [text]: You’ll hate it Jo

Kensia [text]: We got the gift we agreed on and found a little extra

Kensia [text]: We couldn’t resist. it was to good to pass

Naya [text]: I’m almost done with the card. Should I bring it to school to sign?

Joana [text]: Good idea. Make sure she doesn’t see it tho

Laura [text]: Can I drop stuff friday for the sleepover?

Joana [text]: That’s fine. Guys, are you still ok for friday?

Lucas [text]: What’s friday?

Chris [text]: Yo, we’re supposed to go help decorate. I’ll be there.

Lucas [text]: Damn I’m scheduled to work. I can be there around 9:30-10

Max [text]: I’m good too. At what time?

Joana [text]: Around 8. Join us after, Lucas.

Max [text]: K

Celia [text]: You won’t believe what happened to me today

Max [text]: What did you do?

Phone buzzes.

Celia: [Sigh] Why are you like that?

Max: [Chuckle] ‘cause I knew you’d call.

Celia: [Half-amused] Oh! you find this funny. Maybe I’ll hang up then.

Max: [Laugh] Don’t. I just wanted to hear your voice. What happened?

Celia: [Sigh] Well...

[benjaminvox]

"Loss is loss," Benjamin shrugs his shoulder, huffing a distant sound. Nowhere near a laugh, but more of an acknowledgment. "You shouldn't have had to go through that, anymore than I shouldn't have had to go through the things I did. Fuck, man. We were kids." watching as the beer arrived, and tilting his head in thanks.

The difference between the two men though? Benjamin's anger. That darkness that had been bred, and then honed. Living with vengeance was the only way he'd found any modicum of peace.

'You think it might right a wrong, give you closure — it won't'

Benjamin doesn't agree, and it says so as he shifts in his seat, causing the upturn of the corner of his lips. "Did you seek revenge? For your parents?" a pause. "Or are you guessing that it won't make me feel better?" There was a reason he'd been likened to Johnathan...that unwielded rage that most hadn't yet seen. The need to serve. The need to hurt. It lay under that young boy smile, the yet to age face.

And he needed somewhere to direct it. Finely educated, the only credentials he had was working for Melissa Lin. A title, and a fine reputation in itself...he'd bore quickly. He needed this.

'Whose fault is it then, Benjamin? Hers or yours?'

Benjamin doesn't answer immediately.

He sits on it. Traces condensation dripping down the glass in hand, cold seeping into his fingertips. His first instinct is to deflect, throw some biting comment back at Gideon that might force the conversation in some other direction, but the weight of it all, that fucking question settles heavily on top of him. His life, Melissa, his parents, Étienne...his brothers.

Benjamin felt like the world was weighing down on him, and he was it's sole bearer. It's not the first time he's wondered about it, too many times has it found it's way into his thoughts, his dreams...but having someone like Gideon ask it so bluntly strips away any excuse he might've leaned on.

Any chance he could escape those nightmares.

He's fucking lost. Staring. Like the young boy he was still, rummaging to the surface.

Benjamin hadn't quite lost that to his years yet.

"Both," he finally says, eyes vacant, blue a vast nothingness. He doesn’t look at Gideon, can't bare it, honestly: instead, his eyes finds the drink in his hand. "It'd be hers for pulling the trigger. Mine for giving her the reason to, I guess."

Loyalty was a dog: and he was her hound. Benjamin knows it’s not the answer Gideon wants, not the clean division of responsibility he'd probably hoped to hear. And he wouldn't lie to him, his mind had been moulded to Melissa Lin's tactics some eleven years ago...there was no changing his heel. But it’s the truth as Benjamin sees it. Melissa isn’t without her flaws, but she’s always been clear about the stakes. He accepted them the day he stepped into her world.

Into the Rutherford name. And while she commanded it, he obeyed.

He leans back, letting the chair creak under his weight. "Look, I’m not saying she’s perfect. Far from it, fuckin' hell...I'm meant to be smart, right. But... I owe her. A fuckin' lot. Not just for keeping me alive, but for making me into something. Someone. And yeah, that comes with risks. But doesn’t everything?"

Jabbing a finger over his shoulder, he shakes his head -- aware that there were parts of Melissa that Gideon refused to see. To acknowledge. "My parent's killer is here...drinking, laughing...and Melissa's checked in on me every two hours." The side eye, shoulders shrugging. She was his family. Benjamin knows he's justifying, fuckin' rationalizing. Gideon can probably see through it, but it’s the only way he’s ever been able to make peace. "I know you think I’m just another pawn in her game. And maybe I am. But...I chose this life. I know exactly what I signed up for."

Raising his glass, he huffs. "So if she shoots me one day? At least I’ll go down knowing I didn’t sit back and let the world tear me a-fuckin-part." He leans forward, his elbows on the table. "What about you? You’ve seen the same shit I have. What made you realise you'd never want...this" he knew Melissa well, knew a lot of what went on in the Rutherford's -- it was his job to know.

After everything Benjamin reveals about his past, it's less what he says and more how his voice breaks hoarsely over that single word, 'yep', that coaxes Gideon's begrudging sympathy for him. Silently, he hails the bartender, ordering another round of beers for them. Tonight, Benjamin can acquire his own, compliments of his allocation to the rich tents, but there's some goodwill hidden in the gesture nonetheless.

"It isn't all that similar, and I won't pretend that it is." He replies, concerning the demise of both their biological parents. "A car accident doesn't quite leave the same scars as death by unnecessary violence, and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to see what you stepped into, that day you found their bodies." No, it'd be insensitive to claim that he understood what Benjamin had experienced.

But he does understand loss, through and through. Time and time again.

'I can't let it go.' — That's what he's afraid of, that's the part that will consume the boy, if he lets it. Because the Rutherford's seen that too. Time and time again.

"There are plenty of occupations that don't involve breaking the law, Ben." Lest the young man feel he's trying to step into the role of father, unsolicited, Gideon adds;

"I'm just saying. And the thing about anger, is that there's no end to it. Your anger won't bring them back. Murdering Étienne won't bring them back. You think it might right a wrong, give you closure — it won't." He's seen it play out too many times among other members in his father's mob. Recruited with the sweet promise of vengeance, only to find it hollow once they'd sacrificed everything to obtain it.

'And if I die for it, then... That’s on me.'

Gideon takes another sip of his beer. "You haven't answered the question." The bottle settles back on the table, and the surgeon fixes him with a scrutinizing look. "I'm not asking if you die out of bad luck. I'm saying imagine a scenario where you change your mind. Where you decide 'to hell with it, I don't want to work for Ms. Lin anymore', and she shoots you point blank in return. Whose fault is it then, Benjamin? Hers or yours?"

[rosicheeks]

🥰

[yappacadaver]

I wish we had a betrayerrrrr

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[fingertipsmp3]

No one:

Me: does anyone want to hear what my sims family did today

[lilgynt]

moms WILL make sure you cry once a day at least

[foxgloveinspace]

Me: yeah I’m not that big of a fan of birds.

*loves ravens crows and tufted titmouse’s*

Me: well…. Maybe I’m not a fan of parrots??

[fuitygummy]

I think I’m failing therapy

[milo-is-rambling]

My mom was just like ahhh Im anxious to go out of my comfort zone and I was like you’re good how is this out of your comfort zone you’ve done this before and she was like why do you always judge my feelings and say I’m not allowed to feel that way I should feel some other way and I’m sitting here like :| as if she hasn’t done that to my my entire life and as if I didn’t mean you’ve done this before as a you got this sentiment not get over urself

[robertsbarbie]

hmmmmmm

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[nereidprinc3ss]

be my angel

in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.

fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!

Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying you’re going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? He’s not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where he’s going. 

Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted. 

“Is she okay? What happened?” Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word. 

“She’s okay,” the doctor assures. “She was beat up pretty bad—concussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, but—” 

His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot? 

“I need to see her.” 

The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents. 

“I’m sorry, are you her spouse?” 

“Yes. No, not yet, I just—I need to see her, please. Now.” 

“Sir, unless she—” 

“Just let him see her!” Penelope practically yells. “She wants him here, believe me.”  

The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard. 

“Okay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.” 

Spencer’s frown deepens. 

“She’s refusing pain management?” 

“We gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and there’s no background of addiction.” 

“I’ll talk to her,” Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle. 

The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on you—which only makes him feel worse. As always, you’re putting on a brave face. 

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you croak. “How do I look?” 

He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face. 

“How do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldn’t accept pain medication,” he murmurs. 

You sniff. 

“I feel okay. Did she tell you it’s not as bad as it looks?” 

But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows you’re lying. 

“Sweetheart...” 

You’ve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks. 

“It’s okay!” you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine!” 

He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute.  

“I know that’s not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.” 

“I don’t,” you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your hand—the one that’s not connected to the wounded arm. 

“Because of me?” You stare at him blankly, as if you’re shocked he was able to put two and two together. “I promise you don’t need to worry about that.” 

You sniffle. 

“But what if—what if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and it’s, it’s like... triggering for you, or something?” 

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve worried about that. I’d rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend you’re not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.” 

“But I really think I could go without,” you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. “I’ve—I’ve had period cramps that were worse than this.” 

Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair. 

The laughter fades quickly. All the pain you’re in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot quality—he's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you. 

“Will you please tell them you’re ready to take something? They won’t give you Dilaudid. It’s too strong. They’ll give you something that I’d have no interest in anyway.” 

“Not funny,” you whisper. 

He ignores this. 

“Will you let me call the doctor back in?” 

You take a deep, shuddering breath—or at least, you try to, before you’re loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs. 

Spencer doesn’t bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway. 

“Wait,” you plead.  

He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right now—not his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t...” 

You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your team—that Spencer—wasn't coming back for you. Because that’s the kind of thing you have to do to cope when you’re at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesn’t just go away—and Spencer knows it’ll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out.  

He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesn’t mean you aren’t. 

“You were so brave,” he manages after he’s sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. “You did everything exactly right.” 

“I know,” you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that you’re thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasn’t enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it. 

“But nobody needs you to act like it wasn’t hard, okay? You don’t need to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You don’t have to be brave anymore.” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes you’re not going to hide away inside yourself like he did. 

“Will you please, please, let me get the doctor?” 

At least this time you don’t immediately say no. 

“Will you come right back?” 

“Of course.” 

Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead. 

A few minutes later, the doctor—who was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mind—is back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes. 

“Better?” he murmurs as the nurse who’d administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy. 

“Can you lie down with me?” 

He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that you’re able to relax and no longer in extreme pain. 

“Hospital beds aren’t rated for two people.” 

“Spencer.” 

It’s enough for him to climb onto the bed—not that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isn’t exactly perfect—he's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wide—but with some finagling it’s comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and he’s so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that you’re okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair. 

“Hey. Ask me about my bruises.” 

“Why? Do they still hurt?” 

“You should see the other guy.” 

It’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense because you didn’t bother waiting for him to actually set the joke up—but he smiles dryly nonetheless. 

“Can you please give me... I don’t know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?” 

“Clock starts now.” 

“Thank you.” He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling. “How are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?” 

“Mhm. Love breathing.” 

“Mhm. And your arm?” 

“Like I got shot.” 

“Well, that’s pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?” 

“Right. Spencer?” 

“What, my love?” 

A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip. 

“Will you tell me how brave I was again?” 

He takes a silent, very deep breath.  

“You were incredibly brave. And smart, too. I’m really proud of you for how you handled that situation. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I don’t think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.” 

“I thought you guys maybe weren’t coming,” you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voice—like you’re barely awake. “I waited half an hour and I thought you weren’t gonna find me.” 

“Angel, I will always find you. We didn’t stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.” 

“’Nelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.” 

He stares at the ceiling and considers this. 

“I could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.” 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper. “And I’m sorry if I made you mad.” 

“You did not. I wasn’t mad at you. And it’s not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.” 

“She also said that you said fuck like... three times.” 

“Mm... doesn’t sound like me,” he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.

“No, seriously, I’m so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you said—and you have to cause I’m all messed up so I get whatever I want.” 

He sighs in mock annoyance. 

“Well, she’s wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.” 

You hum. 

“Sexy.” 

“Alright,” Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. “Go to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.”