#one-hundred thousand miles

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

What level of down bad is "Abusing your powers as an Akademiya employee to keep tabs on your crush's library loans"? Just asking for a friend.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[gothicmatter]

by god i miss akutagawa. time moves slower when i dont even have the time to think about how much i miss him. depriving the mind of akutagawa is actually equivalent to being stuck in the cold vacuum of space. major tom to ground control let me see akutagawa or im stepping through the door

[wackywatchdotcom]

1# freak about the entomologist character -> YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ENTOMOLOGIST. ING

YES I DO!!!! >:]c!!!

entomology is a huuuuge interest of mine and actually what im going to uni for!!! so ive worked in two different entomology labs (both being more focused on agricultural entomology) and ive met a handful of people who work in that field :D

it influences a little bit of how i see queenie HAHA so far anyone ive met who works in entomology is very strange in different ways, and i dont see her as having been an entomologist prior to entering the circus (maybe in the past at most? but some way or another she ended up working at c&a...) BUT i like to incorporate that into how i see her!!! its very fun :D

im not an entomologist myself by any means but i have a little bit of experience with that field should that insight be needed for queenie purposes!!!!

[thelastharbinger]

Tidbits of ATSV That I Enjoyed (Or Alternatively: Just Miles Being The Most Endearing Spidey Ever)

Miles patting The Spot's head after successfully webbing him (I don't see this as condescending, but rather him still engaging with the humanity of a villain like Spot) and ~very assertively~ telling/asking him not to escape.

"I'm like Robin Hood-if he gave to himself."

Miles' spidey senses going off when he arrives late to his dad's party because there's nothing more frightening than Brown parents when they're mad at you. Beware the chancla or correa!

O.k. So we all know there are different versions of the movie out there. You may already know that one of the slight differences is when Miles goes to save Inspector Singh. There's a version where you can hear Gwen's voice in the distant background yelling no! when she thinks Miles gets crushed under the rubble, and there's another where she's silent as she webs to him. Now, I have found ANOTHER version (online) where her shouting is even more at the forefront. She's practically screaming and sounds more desperate, (prolly because it's close to the same way her Peter Parker died so she's reliving trauma) and the fear in her voice is palpable. That one haunts me.

Jefferson trying to equate studying for his police exams to childbirth, which Rio quickly nips in the bud.

Ganke having a soccer poster of Son Heung Min, a famous Korean footballer who currently plays for the Premier League Tottenham Hotspur and is captain of the South Korean national team.

Miles having a Sashimi (his universe's version of Supreme, but I just like the idea that Miles loves eating sashimi. Like I know that kid has good taste in food) poster in his bedroom.

The fact that Miles kept in touch with Aunt May for long enough after the events of ITSV that he helps her move.

The Spot saying he was one of the more handsome scientists at Alchemax according to his colleagues.

Miles and Gwen having the same collectible toys, the only difference being that he keeps his in the box and she doesn't.

"Hey, don't try to wow me with big words, man," *in deep manly voice* "I do crosswords every day"- Miles after Spot points out Alchemax as "the crucible of our connection!"

Miles going, "This job is so dumb sometimes" after he tries to web Spot at the deli, but it goes through a hole and lands on his face.

"Nahhh, he seems more Dominican to me." Kinda want Miles to meet a native Dominican Spidey because that dynamic would highkey fuck hard *pun not intended*. They would repair relations between our two islands-PR&DR.

"Almost there Mami *smiley face* *cowboy* prayer hands*"

The college admissions coach at Visions Academy straight up saying, "That's your story! Now, just stick to the script..." Ma'am what???

"Calmate Mami, eso no es my fault."

"I've hit a lot of different villains with a lot of different food...I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Miles in his angsty teen era and smart-mouthing everyone around him. Love that for him.

"He almost killed his mom as a baby, I mean, look at those shoulders." No but for real tho. Those shoulders are as wide as a truck. Kim Seokjin who??? (if you understood that reference, ily).

Miles writing a love letter to his dad in 2 cakes.

Gwen at the water tower chowing and saying how feelings make her hungry after her and Miles talked about how they can't be together cause it would end in tragedy. Like Gwen, come again?!

Also, Miles' and Gwen's talk at the Williamsburg Bank Building being lowkey the catalyst for the 2nd/3rd acts of the film. Without them both kind of silently admitting their feelings for each other, Miles probably wouldn't have chased after her the way he did. Pretty sure you know the rest.

"I bet she doesn't even speak Spanish," and Jeff going "Que barbaridad" in his very broken Spanish. Queue Rio's bombastic side eye.

Both Gwen and Miles referring to Spot as a Villain Of The Week, even though neither of them have spoken about Spot to each other.

"I was bitten by a-wouldnt you like to know? Know what I mean?" SIR. Chill. This movie is for children.

The Spot inverting himself, going from a white mass with black spots to a gaping black hole with smaller white spirals. It's giving Junji Ito.

The irony of Pavitr exclaiming, "Well that was another easy adventure for Spider-Man!" right before an incoming canon event. HIS. He was about to experience his first big loss, and his happy-go-lucky nature would've been challenged.

Miguel saying conyo! when all the Spideys start pointing at each other.

"!Cállate!" "Nosy!" Sidebar: we don't talk about Gwen's banter with bad guys enough. She's so funny!

A lot of the Peters saying hi to Gwen as she passes HQ because she is canonically the one lost love--the love interest they all would've ended up with had she not died, so they all have an affection for her.

Web-Slinger going "Giddy up!" Cause he's swinging up.

Miles offering his fresh new takes on how to deal with the Spot upon meeting Miguel, saying "He just wants to be taken seriously. Like we all do." MILES YOU BEAUTIFUL, COMPASSIONATE GOLDEN SUNFLOWER BOY I LOVE YOUUUUU.

Hobie referring to Peter B. as Humbling Reality Spider-Man, which considering how steeped in tragedy the Spidey lore is, is really saying something.

Miguel's nonono no puedo más no puedo más. His misery is very funny and delightful to me. Little bitch ass.

"You know you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny." Yes! More Miguel slander in the next one, please! Little bitch ass.

"Snitch!"

Miles shouting out Peter's name for help whilst Miguel pins and lays into him the fact that he's an anomaly. This after he momentarily glitches back to his ITSV store-bought suit. Mimicking the way-in also the first movie-Miles shouting out Peter's name for his own rescue as Doc Ock attacks him at the research facility. Because even though he feels hurt by Peter at this point, that's still his dad mentor and he still instinctively looks to him for protection. Rip my heart out why don't you!

Gwen sneaking back into her and her dad's place just to get that printed polaroid of her and Miles, a pic she already has on her phone.

Earth-42 Miles wearing Nike while our Miles wears Jordans.

[keeps-ache]

"Contains Natural Caffeine" well how much IS thaT

[kittlyns]

Went ahead and booked my train and hotel for New York in March. Exciting stuff.

[monsata]

And then you get to live out the rest of your natural life, and are finally laid to rest...

...and wake back up in the time loop again, exactly where you'd started so many times before.

those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them

[cottagecori]

My darling dear, happy birthday ❤️ you bring me such joy, and I hope you're able to share in that joy today 🥰

Mo, you are someone whose presence in my life has been a constant source of comfort and love and there aren't enough words in the english language to express how happy i am to know you <3 thank you I love you <3

[personapeters]

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐨

— a rafe cameron one shot (popstar!reader)

✰ when wheezie drags her older brother as her chaperone to the famous ‘short n sweet’ tour to see y/n, her favorite popstar.

rating: sfw — cw: suggestive, mentions drug usage

“rafe!” wheezie called out as her fist repeatedly rapped against his door — no answer. “raaafe!” she called out again before letting out an impatient huff, crossing her arms across her chest as she impatiently waited. suddenly, the large door swung open to reveal her stoic-faced brother, a highly annoyed expression adorning his face. “what d’you want?” he mumbled, staring down at her expectantly with dull blue eyes.

“dad said you have to take me to a concert tonight,” she replied simply, a smug tone in her voice as she brushed past him into his room, dropping herself down onto his unmade bed. rafe spun on his heels in mild bewilderment at her action while mulling over her statement.

“what’re you talkin’ about, wheezie?” he sighed, simply wanting the conversation to be over with already. “got tickets for a concert tonight and you’re takin’ me,” she shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “and what makes you think that?” rafe laughed sarcastically, his long bangs shifting as he tilted his head condescendingly.

“well, i asked dad a couple weeks ago ‘n he said he can’t take me ‘cause he’s got plans with rose tonight or whatever — said he’d only get me tickets if you went with me so i told him you would,” she explained, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “why—why would you do that?” rafe scoffed, “s’not happening.”

“figured you’d say that,” wheezie informed, pushing herself off his mattress and standing to her feet, “which is why i’ll just have to tell dad about your little… transaction.” she almost giggled to herself as she watch his eyebrows furrow together, knowing she was about to back him into a tight corner.

“what ‘transaction’ are you talkin’ about? can you make sense for, like, two seconds?” rafe insisted, leaning against the wall before letting out an annoyed sigh. “the one you made down at the pawn shop with dad’s rolex explorer — y’know, the one you said you’ve never seen a day in your life,” the girl countered.

rafe visibly tensed, unsure as to how his little sister knew anything about what he had done. “how d’you know ‘bout that?” he murmured, tongue poking at the inside cheek as he awaited an answer. “maybe don’t leave the receipt on the counter next time,” she sarcastically advised with a shrug before heading for the door and rafe silently cursed himself for such an obvious mistake.

“so, you’ll be ready by five?” she asked sweetly, smiling up at her brother as he pursed his lips, quirking his head to the side as he tightly shut his eyes for a moment, knowing he was between a rock and an extremely hard place.

“yeah, whatever… okay.”

an instant headache — rafe felt it as soon as they pulled into the parking lot of the overly-packed arena; hundreds of cars resulting in them walking nearly ten straight minutes to reach the entrance, and thousands of people to weave through in the process of security screenings, ticket scannings and merchandise purchasing for a crazily expensive t-shirt wheezie just had to have.

the trip alone was hell within itself; the concert was at a venue two-hundred miles away from home, so they had no other choice but to take the jet to avoid a three hour drive — courtesy of their father. though the trip was narrowed down to less than an hour, wheezie still spent the entire time blaring the exact songs she was about to hear in person, while simultaneously gushing to all her friends over the phone about how excited she was for that night. it was fair to say, rafe was already beyond over it.

finding their spot was fairly simple, seeing as their father purchased the best ones available — front row baracade, merely feet away from the main stage. simply leaving his sister to go wait in the car until the migraine of an event was over crossed his mind once or twice, but even he knew that was far from a sound idea. so, there he was, pressed between his sister and a plethora of random fangirls, all screaming at the top of their lungs as the lights began to dim.

he’d be lying if he said he’d never heard of y/n before — her name was everywhere online and her music played on the radio all too often, to which rafe would (almost) always turn off. despite the mild familiarity, he’d never truly seen what she looked like until that very night.

her voluminous, long locks bounced as she emerged from a stage door and skipped to the edge of the stage, sparkly microphone in hand as she greeted the massive crowd.

"welcome to the 'short 'n sweet tour', everybody!" she beamed, rosy cheeks complimenting her bright, white smile as her glossy eyes grazed over the thousands of faces staring back at her. she was stunning, rafe couldn't deny that, though her attire definitely confused him.

"why's she wearin' pajamas?" he yelled over the music as he leaned down towards his sisters ear, genuinely confused while also acknowledging just how well the corset hugged her figure underneath the sheer top. wheeze only rolled her eyes at her painfully clueless brother before averting her attention back to the stage where the show was finally beginning.

rafe felt as though hours had passed before he mentally checked back in to reality. though, here and there, he found himself ogling at her smooth legs as she pranced across the large stage, frequently widening his blue eyes in mild surprise whenever she’d pose suggestively or make a comment that almost had him wanting to cover his sister’s ears.

maybe it was the mind numbing commotion of the concert or simply the bump he took before boarding the jet that caused rafe not to notice the woman on stage staring down directly at him until his sister violently elbowed his ribcage. he let out a groan, holding a hand to his side before his blue eyes landed up on y/n gazing at him with a flirtatious grin on her face.

"guys, there's someone in the audience and i just— god, i'm getting flustered and super hot, right now," y/n gawked, fanning herself with her free hand while two of her equally sparkly dancers stood at either of her sides, one holding a fuzzy set of pink handcuffs that dangled from the tip of her finger.

the large screen behind her lit up with rafe's wide-eyed face and the crowd erupted into cheers and rather intense screams, undoubtably just as aware as y/n at just how attractive the man was. his crystal blue eyes were heavily dilated, jawline prominent from his clenched teeth, and curtain bangs messily splayed over his forehead — nothing short of perfection.

all the while, rafe felt as though his heart had suddenly fallen into the pit of his stomach, his blown out pupils darting from the screen, to her face, down to his sister who was jittering with sheer excitement, back to y/n who was now standing at the very edge of the stage.

"oh my god, i think i just found the love of my life," she fawned, eyes twinkling from the spotlight as she smiled, "what's your name?" rafe was completely frozen; the mixture of drugs in his system and bewilderment from the interaction as a whole causing him not to process the question fast enough to even try to respond.

"rafe!" wheezie yelled on his behalf, averting y/n's attention down to her. "ray?" y/n questioned, lightly furrowing her brows as she extended her microphone in the siblings' direction. "rafe!" wheezie shouted again, enunciating each syllable with her hands cupped around her mouth.

"rafe?" the pop-star asked, causing wheezie to nod enthusiastically, beyond ecstatic that her idol was actually speaking to her. "rafe," she repeated, a smile stretching across her glossy lips, "is he your brother?" wheezie nodded again, finding herself almost happy to be related to him for the first time in her life.

"well, rafe," y/n purred, a fluorescent stream of blue and red lights suddenly encasing the stadium, a loud siren sounding that quickly jolted him back into reality, the sound being all-too familiar, "i just love a family man, but unfortunately, you're under arrest for being too hot." rafe felt his cheeks heat up slightly at the comment and silently prayed wasn't visible on the big screen while a small smile pulled at his pink lips.

"you're so hot it's making me hot! and when i get too hot sometimes my clothes just—," y/n continued before the bottom half of her pink rhinestoned skirt fell down her legs, pooling around her matching boots, "oh, god, that's so embarrassing — you made my clothes come off, rafe."

rafe slowly nodded to himself, licking his pursed lips to keep from grinning like an idiot which only cause the packed stadium to roar even louder than before. rafe was never one to seek much validation from women, as he knows who he is and what he has to offer, but there was no denying that catching the attention of the pop icon had already boosted his ego (at least just a little).

a chime like tune of yet another song began to play as y/n grabbed the infamous fluffy cuffs before crouching down, handing them off to a security guard who passed them off to rafe himself. of course, wheezie snatched them from his hands just as soon as they graced his fingers and screamed about how y/n had just touched them.

for the remainder of the event, rafe found himself paying much more attention than before. maybe it was the way she said his name or the fact that she chose him out of everyone there, but his focus fully remained on her; the way her bottoms were way too small to cover much of anything, the way she looked so short even with 5-inch boots on, the way that every so often she would shoot a quick glance his way as if she didn't want him to catch her — maybe that part was all in his head, though he wasn't fully convinced that it was.

eventually, the end of the show came around and although rafe enjoyed watching the star prance around in a mini-skirt, he was also ready to get the hell home. y/n waved lovingly at the crowd, gratitude glistening in her doe eyes as she smiled before thanking them all for coming, wishing them a good night and disappearing behind the same door she emerged from hours before, leaving her fans to all buzz in the midst of the aftermath.

merely minutes passed as the arena slowly began to empty before a burly man dressed similarly to the security guards suddenly appeared in front of the siblings. "miss y/l/n requested i bring this to you. have a good one," he yelled over the commotion, placing a small envelope in rafe's hand before disappearing just as quickly as he had arrived.

"oh my god, open it," wheezie gushed, watching as her brother fumbled the paper between his long fingers with furrowed brows. his heart began to thump a little faster at the realization that she'd sent something for him — specifically for him. he slid out a small white card decorated with fresh, black ink and squinted as he read the calligraphy;

thank you for coming! your sister is the absolute cutest. i have a show coming up in charlotte, dm me on ig @ yourinstahandle if you'd both like to come!

xox — y/n

“no fucking way,” wheezie gawked, before jumping up and down as she squealed, “no way, she said i’m cute, oh my god, oh my god — rafe, text her right now, oh my god, i’m gonna pass out, like, actually.”

“wheeze, chill out,” rafe urged, slightly grimacing at her strong language, though he, too, was a bit overwhelmed with all that had happened; the entire night was beginning to feel like a fever dream, for both rafe and his little sister. “are we going? we’re going,” she rushed out, causing rafe to quickly slide the note into his pocket. “look, let’s just get home, alright?” he mumbled.

“are you gonna message her? you have to, i’m not kidding,” wheezie questioned as the pair weaved their way through hundreds of bodies, slowly but assuredly making their way towards the flooded exit. “dunno, wheezie,” he muttered dismissively, “c’mon, hurry up.”

the walk to the car, as well as the drive to the jet, consisted of wheezie’s persistent nagging and begging for her brother to do what she called a ‘once in a lifetime thing that will literally never happen again… like, ever’. rafe didn’t want to come off as some ‘fanboy’ by actually messaging the popstar just for the sake of some tickets to her concert, though he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t like to see her again.

it was all confusing for him, to say the least. he wasn't big on celebrities or fame, but was well aware of how insane what had happened was. after nearly half an hour of sitting slouched in his seat on the plane, head thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut as wheezie gave him (almost literally) a hundred-and-one different reasons as to why he needed to message y/n and take her up on her offer — some of which being subtle threats of what exactly she would do if rafe 'messed this up' for her.

"alright, wheeze, please," he begged, desperate for just a moment of silence, "if i do it you gotta shut up already — m'brains gonna fuckin' explode." with that, wheezie was mute as rafe pulled the device from his pocket, searching up the username that honestly didn't need to be given, before tapping on her profile and shooting her a quick, yet definitely overthought, message.

"done," rafe murmured, lightly shaking his phone in wheezie's direction before tossing it onto the table in front of him, leaning his head against the window with closed eyes. his sister smiled wordlessly to herself, covering her mouth to keep from squealing before rapidly typing on her phone to everyone she knew to tell them all about the best night of her life.

a day passed before y/n finally found her way to rafe's message. thousands upon thousands of dm's awaited unopened in her inbox, so much so that she knew it'd be nearly impossible to find him, assuming he decided to message her at all. luckily, his name was rather uncommon and had stuck in her brain all night, so with a quick search and a few seconds of scrolling, she came across a profile that sparked her interest.

"wait, is this him?" y/n gasped, a small smile making it's way to her face as she quickly padded across the hotel room with bare feet before shoving her phone into her manager's face, "i mean, that looks like him, right?"

"oh, for sure," the other girl confirmed, grabbing the device and zooming in on his profile picture. “stop, i’m gonna throw up,” y/n halfheartedly joked while leaning over her managers shoulder, “ahh, can you check if he dm’d me? i’m nervous.”

“you’re nervous?” the older woman questioned, genuinely curious as to how it was even possible that the same woman who performed in front of tens of thousands every night could be so worked up over some random guy.

“yes, just look, please,” y/n whined, dropping herself flat onto the large bed before burying her face into the pristine pillows with a huff. “he’s so hot,” she cried out into the cotton, her voice muffled against it.

“okay,” her manager laughed, tapping the screen a couple of times with manicured nails before letting out a soft gasp. “stop,” y/n gasped as well, lifting her head from the pillow with disheveled hair before bouncing off the bed and sprinting back to the other girl’s side, “what’d he say?!”

“he said, and i quote, ‘yo, it’s rafe’,” the woman recited in a monotone voice before looking up at y/n with a less than enthused expression, “wow… a modern day romeo.”

“okay, he’s not trynna woo me,” y/n laughed softly, gently taking her phone back and reading over the message. “clearly,” her manager muttered, “is he coming tomorrow?”

“i don’t know, maybe,” y/n mumbled as her thumbs hovered over the screen, unsure of what to do next. “well,” the other woman concluded, standing to her feet and straightening out her blouse, “let me know as soon as you do so i can get them their backstage tickets. and remember, we’ve got to leave here by five for the premiere — not a second later.”

with that, she exited the room in silence, leaving y/n to stare down at her phone as she chewed anxiously at the inside of her lip. why was she struggling so much? she’s talked to guys before and never was it ever that hard. she didn’t even know the guy, yet he somehow already had her stomach fluttering at the thought of him.

time was wasting with each passing second, and with a long night full of interviews and appearances, she decided she was simply giving it way too much thought and decided to finally pull the trigger.

she grimaced as soon as she hit send — definitely not her best work but it was something. she locked her phone and tossed it onto the duvet, letting out a groan before deciding it was time to do something other than stress over a man.

instead, she turned on some music and began the lengthy process of getting ready for a huge event such as the one she had that night. she showered, blow dried her infamous locks and even ironed her sleek, black dress in preparation — something she never does. the morning was casual, productive, and slow; all until she heard her phone chime from across the room. she bolted over to it, almost tripping over her own feet, before scooping it up to find rafe had responded.

as soon as their conversation ended, y/n called her manager and squealed out the information as she bounced giddily on her feet, even more excited for the following day's show than she thought possible. her manager assured her that everything would be situated before the next day, and to focus on the night ahead first, but y/n felt as though it would be virtually impossible — how could she? she was going to see rafe again.

extras:

�� personapeters 2025 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[g1rld1ary]

well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

next

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

next part

[precambrianhottopic]

Oh my gooooooooooooooooooodddd you DO have a boyfriend this time :3c

noooooo NO this would NEVER happen to me. wheres that post thats like i dont even like men fr. i want to lay in his arms

[huntermega]

Oh no. Oh I like this. Worms,,,,,

"how could I say no to you, lamb, how could anyone reject communion so close?"

[coldbronzemoon]

An au concept that's been ping-ponging around in my head:

Instead of the life of crime route, Stan goes from his canon scammy products to ending up in Hollywood and becoming an actor. Maybe some agent spots his stupid ads, laughs their ass off and then goes 'hey, maybe there's something there' or maybe Stan himself goes to Hollywood because that's where the parties and babes are and auditions for stuff on a lark.

Either way, he starts actually landing roles. And first they aren't that big, and mostly comedic--he has a very over-the-top-personality, after all--but slowly he moves more into action movie land and starts becoming more of a known name. A known face. Doesn't land lead, exactly, but a prominent supporting role in the action blockbuster of the season.

Thus, Stanley Pines (or perhaps... Panley Stine) is a rising star.

A few hundred thousand miles away lives a very unhappy Ford Pines. His feelings on Stan making it and becoming a known actor are... complex (Part of him is relieved that Stan is doing well, part of him resents it, part of him feels validated for not standing up to their dad because Stan being kicked out helped Stan become famous in a way, part of him wishes he wasn't only seeing his brother on posters, so on, so forth) but he has one big problem:

Literally fucking everyone opens conversations with him with "Hey, you look like that one guy from the Extinguisher!" and even worse, no one ever believes him when he says that said actor is his twin brother. They tend to think he's lying as a joke or for attention.

So one day Stan receives a letter. It says "Stanley, please go back to the mustache. Everyone thinks I'm you otherwise. Yours, Ford. Ps. I told you that you should've joined the drama club."

Stan's damn well hacked off. Radio silence from his brother for a couple years at this point, and THIS is the first thing Ford has to say to him? The gall.

He keeps himself clean-shaven. He even starts wearing glasses like he's needed to for most of his life. Exactly the style of glasses Ford always wore, even.

Ford sends a second, even more terse letter.

Thus begins the most passive-aggressive communication between brothers possible, starting as letters and later turning into voicemails from Ford with legally dubious phone number-retrieving help from Fiddleford. Ford bitches about a recent choice Stan's made. Stan doubles-down and finds a new thing to piss him off with as well. Rinse and repeat.

In this universe, Ford goes to Gravity Falls not only because it's so full of anomalies, but because it's so backwater he hopes they won't know about Panley Stine at all.

[teaboot]

Things about the metric system that confuse me

Why are there 16 parts to an inch. Like yeah it's divisible by 4 but decimals and percentages on a system based on 100 are so much easier to calculate than fractions.

What are those little sixteenths called

Why don't you have millimeters. What happens if you need to measure something smaller than 1/16th of an inch. Why is your smallest area measurement the length of my fucking thumb

BECAUSE of your dumb inches and sixteenth and fractions, nothing else makes any fucking sense to remember. What's an inch? 16 little notches. What's a foot? 12 inches. What's a mile? 5,280. How the FUCK does anyone remember that. You know what's easy to remember? 10 millimeters are 1 centimeter. Do you know what centimeter means? 1/100th of a meter. You know how many of them are in a meter? 100. Easy shit

Okay this one is at Imperial but whose tablespoon is a tablespoon based off. Why are tablespoons and teaspoons both distinct measurements, they're fucking spoons. They're almost the fucking same. Like if you had "inches" and "binches" and binches were for no reason at all 1/42nd smaller and you only used them for measuring sawdust. Fuck completely off

Okay actually still looking at Imperial and speaking of Teaspoons and Tablespoons, the names don't indicate anything. How would ANYONE simply deduce by name which is bigger or smaller. Why would a spoon for food be bigger than a spoon for a drink. They both gotta fit in your fucking mouth don't they

Did we all standardize our fucking spoon volumes before we standardized our math? And CUPS? Who in the cholera factory was using scientific standard measurements to quality control your cutlery for any of this to be at all reliable for anyone following recipes

Alright back to you Metric WHAT DOES OUNCE MEAN AND WHY IS IT ABBREVIATED AS OZ

WHY IS POUND ABBREVIATED AS LB FOR LIBRA LIKE SCALES LIKE A CRYPTIC ASS ILLUMINATI SECRET MESSAGE WHEN "P" IS PERFECTLY AVAILABLE. YALL AINT PAYING MONEY IN POUNDS AND PENCE SO WHATS THE CONFUSION

Okay also why the hell would the British using Pounds to mean money run away to make America and start using Pounds to mean weight instead. Do I weigh a hundred dollars? Does Chadley at the gym bench press a thousand cents? I hate you

What is a gallon for. What does it mean. You know what's easy to convert to milliliters? Liters. What the hell is an ounce to a gallon

On top of that, what's your measurement transference? We have grams for weight, liters for liquid, meters for distance, and they're all like 1:100:1000 and shit. What do you DO to like. Show how many square inches of mass a gallon has or whatever

Oh shit I ain't even got into Fahrenheit yet

Actually fuck all of us, the end

[satellite-evans]

scary

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: A pregnancy scare forces you and Lando to confront what you want—and what you’re ready for. Relief doesn't bring peace, and his unexpected reaction changes everything.

Word count: 2.6k+

Warnings: angst, pregnancy scare, swearing

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It started small. A flutter of unease in your stomach when you realized the calendar was off. One day, then two. You brushed it off at first—an innocent oversight, nothing more. But by the time it reached five, your thoughts had already unraveled into a thousand tangled threads, each one darker than the last.

You tried to rationalize it. Travel had thrown off your routine. The stress at work had been building. Maybe it was the new supplements you’d impulsively ordered online after reading some influencer’s glowing review. You repeated those explanations like a prayer, hoping that if you said them enough, they’d become true. But each morning you woke up still waiting, the excuses felt flimsier. Fragile things that couldn’t withstand the weight of what you feared.

Lando was in Monaco. Or maybe Milan. You couldn’t even keep track anymore—his life was a carousel of cities, photo ops, and flights. All you saw were time-stamped glimpses of it through his Instagram stories: sunlit terraces, grid walks, that easy grin he wore like armor. He looked happy. Effortless. Untouchable. And you? You lay curled in bed, covers drawn up to your chin, one hand over your stomach as if that could stop whatever might be happening inside you. As if stillness could keep the world from shifting beneath your feet.

You watched the ceiling, silent and still, imagining the moment everything would change. The click of a test, the blur of a second line. You didn’t even know yet—and still, it felt like the before was already slipping away.

When your phone lit up with his name, your heart jumped. FaceTime. You let it ring out, watching the screen dim and fall silent. Later, you told yourself it was because your phone was on silent. Not because the thought of seeing his face, carefree and thousands of miles away, made something inside you ache. Not because you didn’t know how to pretend. Not because you were afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

You rolled over, burying your face into the pillow, and let the silence grow between you—thick, heavy, and full of things unsaid.

He came home two days later.

You heard the key turn in the lock—faint, metallic, unmistakable. A sound you’d heard a hundred times, yet tonight it caught in your chest like a breath you forgot to finish taking. Your hand hovered over the simmering pot, wooden spoon motionless. The smell of tomatoes and garlic clung to the air, thick and comforting in the way familiar things are, even when the world feels unfamiliar.

There was a pause, a beat of silence, and then the clatter—his duffel bag dropping to the floor in the hallway. The rustle of his jacket being shrugged off. Then his voice, soft but tired, like a question he wasn’t sure how to ask.

“Babe?”

You didn’t answer. Not right away. The sauce had long since finished cooking, but you stood there anyway, stirring it out of habit more than need. The gentle bubbling was the only sound in the kitchen, a small thing that somehow grounded you as the rest of your body threatened to unravel.

You felt him before you saw him—his arms sliding around your waist, warm and familiar, like muscle memory. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, breath brushing your skin in slow, even puffs.

“Smells good,” he murmured. “Missed you.”

Your grip on the spoon tightened, knuckles paling. The words didn’t slide off you the way they normally did. You wanted to melt into his touch, but instead you stood stiff, held together only by tension and the thin thread of resolve you’d been spinning for days.

“I’m late,” you said, voice quieter than you intended.

His arms paused, still circling you but suddenly motionless. “Late?”

You turned in his hold, slowly, as if movement itself might shatter something fragile between you. Your eyes met his, searching, steady. You wanted to gauge his reaction before you even said it aloud. Wanted to see if he already knew what you were about to say.

“My period. It’s two weeks late.”

There was a flicker—barely there—a flick of his eyes, a brief flash of something unreadable. Then silence.

“Do you think...” he began, but didn’t finish.

“I don’t know,” you interrupted. “I haven’t taken a test.”

He nodded, once, then again slower. “Then we should get one.”

You watched him, waiting. For the quick deflection. For the easy, dismissive smile. For the usual “It’s probably nothing” or “Don’t stress.” The scripted lines. The predictable reactions. But none of them came.

Just quiet acceptance.

He didn’t let go. Didn’t flinch or step back. His hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs brushing small circles against your sides, as if he were grounding himself—or maybe you.

And that scared you more than anything else.

Because if he’d panicked, you could’ve been the calm one. If he’d brushed it off, you could’ve gotten angry and made it real. But this—this stillness, this softness—felt like walking into the unknown without armor. Like standing at the edge of a cliff and realizing the wind isn’t strong enough to stop you from falling.

The silence stretched between you, not awkward, but thick with everything you were both too afraid to name. He didn’t ask you why you hadn’t told him sooner. Didn’t ask why your eyes were a little red, or why the apartment was unusually spotless, or why the sauce had been simmering too long.

Maybe he knew. Maybe he’d spent those long flights imagining this moment too.

“Okay,” he said finally, gently. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever it is.”

You nodded, but didn’t speak. Just leaned into him, resting your forehead against his chest, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

And for a moment, you let yourself believe that figuring it out was possible.

The pharmacy felt like a vacuum. The moment you stepped inside, the world seemed to shrink down to its most clinical elements: the hum of fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead like anxious thoughts, the sterile gleam of polished tile beneath your shoes, the soft beep of scanners at the front register. The air was cold, dry, scented faintly with antiseptic and something sugary from the candy aisle nearby.

But none of it touched you. You and Lando moved through it like shadows—quiet, contained, orbiting something unspeakable.

You walked together in silence, your footsteps falling slightly out of sync. No one looked at you, but it felt like everyone could see you. As if your thoughts were painted across your forehead in bold, pulsing letters: Possible pregnancy. Complete emotional freefall.

The feminine care aisle was tucked away near the back, as if it, too, wanted to offer you privacy. But the moment you turned the corner and stepped into that row, the weight of it all dropped onto your shoulders like lead. Rows upon rows of pastel-colored boxes stared back at you—some blue, some pink, all impossibly cheery for what they contained. Promises of early detection, digital readouts, results in minutes. Neat packaging for a moment that could tear your life in two.

You stopped in front of them, unsure of how to breathe. Your fingers hovered just above a sleek white box with soft blue lettering. It was the same brand you remembered from years ago—long before Lando, before now—when the test had come back negative and you had cried with relief you didn’t quite understand.

But today your hand refused to close around it.

“I can’t,” you murmured, so softly it barely left your lips.

Lando stood beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a shield, like a question. He didn’t ask you to explain. Didn’t try to coax or reassure. He didn’t fill the silence the way some people might have, didn’t try to fix the fear curling tight inside your chest.

Instead, he stepped forward.

Without a word, he reached out, selected a box—one with a digital readout, something simple, something clear—and took it from the shelf. His fingers curled tightly around it, like it was something precious, or dangerous. Maybe both.

He didn’t hand it to you.

Instead, he turned, and with a quiet, steady presence, walked with you back through the store. Past the vitamins and painkillers, past the racks of magazines with bright headlines and glossy smiles, past a mother holding a toddler on her hip. You wondered, in a moment of cruel irony, if that might be you in nine months.

The cashier didn’t say much. Just scanned the test, gave a quick glance between the two of you, and slid it into a small paper bag. Lando paid, slipping his card back into his wallet like this was just another errand. But you could see it in his shoulders—the way they sat straighter than usual, the way his hand tightened around the bag as he took it.

Outside, the cold hit you immediately—sharp, bracing, real. The kind of cold that made your lungs ache and your eyes sting. It was early evening, and the sun was already sinking, painting the street in dusky gold and icy blue.

Still silent, Lando held the bag in one hand, his other brushing lightly against yours as you walked side by side again.

And though no words passed between you, you felt the shift. The gravity of what you were carrying now belonged to both of you.

Back at the apartment, the silence stretched like a rubber band pulled to its limit, taut and trembling, threatening to snap.

You didn’t speak as you slipped the pharmacy bag onto the bathroom counter. Your fingers trembled as you tore the box open, the cardboard giving way with a soft rip that still felt too loud. The plastic wrapper crinkled between your hands, resisting you in that final, deliberate moment before you peeled it open.

Your heart thudded hard against your ribs—steady, loud, almost punishing. Each beat seemed to echo inside your chest, a countdown in its own right.

You sat down on the edge of the tub, the test clutched tight in your palm. It was just plastic, light as nothing, and yet it felt like holding a live wire. You did what you had to do, movements mechanical, almost detached. Then you set the test carefully on the edge of the sink, not daring to look at it too long, afraid that your gaze alone might make the result appear faster.

Five minutes.

You left the bathroom like it might explode, like the test might detonate if you lingered in the same room with it.

In the bedroom, Lando was already sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed slightly. His leg was bouncing—rapid, nervous energy pulsing through him, trying to escape. You knew that bounce. You’d seen it before on race days, just before he stepped into the car. It was the tell of someone pretending to be calm while their insides were chaos.

“Five minutes,” you said quietly, standing in the doorway like a ghost.

He nodded, but didn’t speak. The test was now on the nightstand, facedown. Its tiny, plastic frame looked almost laughable against the gravity of what it represented. You stared at it like it might catch fire, like it could scream your future out loud if you so much as blinked.

“I didn’t plan for this,” you said. “I don’t want it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with guilt and truth.

He didn’t answer right away. Just let the silence wrap itself around the statement, as if trying to decide whether to accept it or challenge it.

“I don’t know if I do either,” he finally said, voice low. “But I didn’t feel scared when you told me. That surprised me.”

You turned toward him, arms crossed, more to hold yourself together than anything else.

“You’re not the one who’d have to carry it.”

His jaw tightened. A flicker of pain passed through his eyes, but he nodded slowly. “I know. I’m not trying to make this about me.”

And to his credit, he wasn’t. But the space between you still felt like a chasm neither of you knew how to cross.

Then your phone buzzed—a sharp, vibrating alarm that shattered the silence.

Five minutes.

You didn’t move right away. Just stared at your phone, as if the sound itself could delay the inevitable. Then, slowly, your hand reached for the test. Your fingers were shaking. You turned it over.

One line.

Negative.

Relief hit you like a wave, hard and fast. You exhaled sharply, all the tension collapsing out of your body at once. Your shoulders slumped. Your knees wobbled.

“It’s negative,” you said, almost to yourself.

Lando leaned in slightly to look, nodding again, but his expression didn’t match yours. His face didn’t soften with relief. Instead, his brow furrowed, a subtle crease forming between his eyes. There was something there—something unreadable, but not indifferent.

You looked at him. “What?”

He blinked, looked away. “Nothing. It’s good. That’s good.”

“Lando.”

He hesitated, then finally spoke, his voice almost gentle: “I just… when I thought it might be real, I didn’t hate the idea. That surprised me.”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

He looked at the floor. “Yeah.”

You could feel the anger rising, sharp and hot. “You’re gone most of the year,” you snapped. “You think a baby is a good idea right now?”

“I didn’t say it was a good idea,” he shot back, more defensive now. “I said I didn’t hate it. I thought... maybe I could be okay with it.”

“You thought you could be okay with it?” Your voice climbed, emotions catching in your throat. “Are you even listening to yourself? I’ve been here, spiraling, scared out of my mind. And you’re out there picturing baby names?”

His expression darkened. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me the bad guy for feeling something.”

You stood up, pacing now, needing distance. “I’m not making you the bad guy. I’m trying to explain that this—us having a kid—isn’t something I can even comprehend right now. We’re barely managing this.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” he said suddenly, standing too. His voice was louder now, sharper. “You keep acting like I’m never here, like I wouldn’t show up if it mattered.”

You rounded on him. “Would you? Would you show up at 2 a.m. when I’m vomiting from morning sickness? Would you cancel a race if something went wrong?”

He flinched like you’d struck him. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is you being disappointed that I’m not pregnant.”

He looked at you then—really looked. And something in his expression shifted. Like he was seeing you with new eyes. Or maybe realizing just how far apart you’d already drifted.

“I just thought...” he said, voice quiet again. “It might have meant we were growing into something.”

Your chest tightened. It hurt to breathe. “It doesn’t take a pregnancy to prove we’re real, Lando. If you needed that to feel grounded in us, then maybe we’re already too far apart.”

His mouth opened like he might argue. But then he swallowed, hard. His eyes dropped to the floor. After a beat, he stepped toward the nightstand and picked up his keys.

“I need some air.”

You didn’t stop him. Couldn’t. The words were there, but they wouldn’t come.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And the silence he left behind was deafening. Louder than the shouting. Louder than the truth.

You sat on the edge of the bed, the test still in your hand. One line. Clear. Definitive.

Not pregnant. Not anything.

And yet, somehow, it still felt like something had shattered—quietly, invisibly, in that way only hearts know how to break.

[moonlight-joy]

A Surprise Delivery

MASTERLIST

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: When Spencer forgets his lunch, you decide to bring it to him at the BAU—only to be met with an overly curious and excited team. The moment they realize you’re the person Spencer constantly talks about, they tease him relentlessly, much to his embarrassment. Despite the chaos, Spencer’s quiet affection and the team’s warmth make you realize just how much you belong—not just with him, but with all of them.

Pairing: Reader/Spencer Reid

Spencer was always in a rush in the mornings. His mind ran a thousand miles per hour, jumping from one thought to the next, always thinking ahead.

It was one of the things you adored about him.

Unfortunately, it also meant he often forgot things.

Like today—when he left for work without his lunch.

You noticed it the second you walked into the kitchen. His neatly packed lunch sat on the counter, completely untouched.

With a fond sigh, you grabbed it and decided to bring it to him yourself.

After all, you hadn’t had the chance to visit the BAU yet.

Spencer talked about his team all the time—telling you stories of their cases, their friendships, and their relentless teasing of him.

But you’d never actually met them in person.

Until now.

Walking into the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit was… intimidating.

Agents moved around with stacks of files, their voices filling the air with serious discussions. You saw desks cluttered with crime scene photos, case notes, and very, very intense people.

And then you spotted him.

Spencer was sitting at his desk, completely engrossed in a case file. His brow was furrowed, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on his knee, lips pursed in deep concentration.

Your heart swelled.

God, you loved him.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over, lunch in hand.

“Spencer?”

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and for a moment, he just stared.

“Y/N?” His eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

You lifted the lunch bag with a small smile. “You forgot this.”

Spencer blinked. Then grinned. He stood so fast that his chair nearly toppled over.

“You didn’t have to bring it all the way here,” he said, voice full of affection.

“I wanted to,” you admitted shyly. “Didn’t want you skipping lunch.”

Before Spencer could respond, a voice cut through the air.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

You turned just in time to see Derek Morgan smirking as he approached, followed by a very curious Penelope Garcia, JJ, and Emily Prentiss.

“Oh. My. God.” Garcia gasped, practically bouncing in excitement.

Her eyes widened as she took you in, then whipped around to face Spencer.

“Tell me this absolute ray of sunshine is the mysterious person you’ve been hiding from us.”

Spencer groaned. “I haven’t been hiding her.”

“Oh, you absolutely have,” Emily teased, crossing her arms. “And I think I speak for everyone when I say… excuse me?!”

You felt your face heat up as all eyes landed on you.

Spencer must have noticed, because he immediately moved closer, his hand brushing against yours in silent reassurance.

JJ smiled kindly. “It’s really nice to finally meet you. Spencer talks about you all the time.”

“JJ.” Spencer muttered, clearly embarrassed.

“What? It’s true!” JJ laughed. “I swear, every other conversation is ‘Y/N said this,’ ‘Y/N likes that.’”

You turned to Spencer, a grin playing at your lips. “Really?”

Spencer cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. “I… I may have mentioned you. Once or twice.”

Morgan smirked. “More like a hundred times.”

Spencer glared at him.

You giggled, feeling your nerves slowly fade.

Morgan grinned. “So, tell me, how did this guy manage to score someone like you?”

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but you beat him to it.

You turned to Morgan with a sweet, sincere smile and said, “He’s pretty easy to love.”

The team collectively swooned.

Garcia clutched her chest dramatically. “Okay, I officially love you. We’re keeping you.”

Emily smirked. “Spencer, you better hold on tight, because I think we just found our new favorite person.”

Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but you could see the small smile tugging at his lips.

JJ nudged you playfully. “You know, he usually avoids talking about relationships with us. But you? He never stops talking about you.”

You turned to Spencer, softening.

“You do?”

Spencer fidgeted, clearly flustered. “I— I mean, it’s— they’re exaggerating.”

“Oh, not at all,” Morgan said cheerfully. “In fact, the only thing we haven’t heard is how you met.”

Spencer groaned. “Oh, no. We are not doing this right now.”

Garcia gasped. “Wait. Was it a nerdy meet-cute? Did you bump into each other in a library? Did you both reach for the same book and your fingers brushed?”

Morgan grinned. “Did you impress her with your crazy genius memory?”

Emily smirked. “Or did she save him from tripping over his own feet?”

Spencer sighed heavily. “You’re all impossible.”

You laughed, loving the way Spencer’s team teased him but adored him all the same.

Spencer turned back to you, his voice softer now. “Thank you for bringing this.”

You smiled. “Anytime.”

Morgan smirked. “Alright, pretty boy, we’ll leave you two alone… for now.”

As the team walked away—clearly whispering and already planning ways to tease Spencer later—he sighed and turned back to you.

Spencer shook his head. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

You grinned. “Probably not.”

He huffed but then took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Still worth it.”

Your heart fluttered.

And in that moment, standing in the middle of the busy BAU bullpen, surrounded by Spencer’s friends, his family, you knew—

So was this.

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