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#but thanks to therapy i'm just like...this is a you problem
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Hey just wanna ask about something:
Do you ever think that Tim would want to sacrifice himself bcs he thinks that the only way out of his problems is to do something for someone even though they never asked for it but he just wants to keep them safe from any disasters that befall on them.
Yet, his path is not to change but to save someone.
Unlike his brothers Tim probably still has that thought of losing someone he loves to die again. So he will be prepared for anything, like he prepared an armor/suit for every apocalyptic stuff happened, a base that have daily stuff so one of them can be safe and comfortable in that place whenever they need alone time or just wants to hang out, he would also prepare the strongest weapon he could make or find so that he could give it to them if he does die or he wants them to survive as long as they could and I think Tim will go ballistic if his love ones get injured in front of him but not that brutal bcs he can do anything especially backstabbing.
Tim also prepares some tasty information of every person even the people outside of Gotham so that he can identify and set a message to his teammates of the person whereabouts or current state.
But when someone does save him from something or someone he just says "thanks" yet his face looks disappointed bcs he thinks that he's not strong enough to save himself from his problems (which is kinda true Tim you need to go to therapy fr) and every time he got saved by someone he thinks that person probably felt pitiful for him but he doesn't tell them that probably thinking he would be a burden for voicing his opinions or thoughts.
Anyway, I just want your idea of self-sacrifice Tim Drake bcs I think it will be worthy of angst material.
Hello!!! Just to summarize, you stated that you see Tim as the type to go to great lengths for the safety of his loved ones while not accepting or feeling shame if that was reciprocal.
There are several traits for Tim that one can play around with: his selfless need to help, his self-sacrifical tendencies, his desire for independence, and his continued forgiveness.
People will hurt him, and he'll still go out of the way to ensure their safety. It's a trait about him to admire at the same time it makes me frustrated as hell.
Then, there is the chance that he feels that he isn't enough or isn't doing enough. He does compare himself to others and how they would handle the situation better than him. He uses this messed up logic to state that he isn't trying hard enough or doing well. Great angst to be had.
I find fics or AUs that highlight Tim's subtle/silent support as great ones. For some reason or another, Tim no longer provides the care and diligence he did behind the scenes. The batfam then realize just how much he was taking on.
There's a ton of fics that have the AU of Tim sacrificing his life for the Bats. Here's some other forms of sacrifice I think would really drive in that angst:
his childhood (if you go the "Bruce only treated him as a soldier/coworker" route)
memories (of the Bats or of his parents loving him)
his independence/freedom
his brain (his ability to think/put together clues)
his ability to feel love or happy
his last name (either Drake or Wayne)
his ability to fight
I personally like the AUs where he goes back in time and sacrifices his ability to be with the Waynes as a family (he saves all of them [or tries] and they don't even know him).
I'm down to talk about any of these more!!!
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hatchetation · 1 year
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Well, it finally happened! I got my first rude comment on something kacy-related. I’ve honestly been waiting for this to happen for ages but kacy stans on tumblr are some of THEE coolest, nicest folks on the planet so every ask and every comment I’ve received over the past year or so has been unfailingly polite. Like, even when there’s been disagreement, people have been kind. Idk why I’m posting this except to say, this rude comment just emphasized how awesome this fandom is. And even though the fandom is quiet rn i love u all <3333
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gxlden-angels · 6 months
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Hello! I apologize if this is a nosy question, but what is the silly feelings wheel app you were talking about in a previous post? My therapist and I have been working on identifying feelings but I still very much rely on a list of feeling words to have any idea what I’m feeling, so it could be a helpful resource. No worries if you don’t want to share, just thought I would ask :)
It's called How We Feel! I'm not sure if it's available on all devices yet, but it's on ios and the google play store for sure.
I've been using it for about a year. It's more of a chart than a wheel but people usually recognize the wheel better so that's what I call it. When you first start it has a 10-part tutorial about emotional acceptance and regulation, then it has suggestions for each category of emotion. You can access both at any time tho after those first 10 days.
It has a share option so you can have friends, which has been great for me cause it prompts me to check on friends and them to do the same for me. It allows you to just respond with a little emoji in like a "I'm here for you" little notification to your friend, or you can reach out to your friend on your own. Its really helped me cause I'm bad at reaching out when I need support so to me and I'm bad about taking on other's problems even when I can't handle it so being able to send a little emoji instead to make sure my friends know I'm there if they need me and them doing the same has been great
#I know I sound like I'm a being sponsored by this app but it's genuinely been incredible for my mental health#whenever I get frustrated in therapy now about not being able to describe a feeling my therapist asks me to think about the chart#he'll ask me what color I feel and go 'good! do you want to narrow it down from there or continue with just that?' and it's so helpful#I have such terrible alexithymia from both cptsd and autism#it took a year of working with him to even recognize when I felt angry or hungry or sick#my friends and I check in on each other regularly now but it feels less intrusive#cause it feels like indirectly reaching out so it's less pressure to directly respond#and it might not feel the same for everyone since it could be jarring to get a notification saying friend feels miserable#but now that I've gotten used to it I don't feel like I need to solve their problems and make them feel better#Like they might be miserable because they're sick! So I check in and they say they're sick but okay and I don't feel the impulse to solve#like I would if I just didn't see them then saw them in person and saw they looked miserable#I don't blame myself or feel like I personally need to fix everything because I know they felt like that from an outside source I can't#control but I can certainly help them if they want! It's their choice tho and I don't feel bad if they don't/I can't#I feel less need to control my emotions/force them to be positive like I used to cause nobody feels positive 24/7 and I can see it#I don't feel the need to be politely content like I did in church because no one can be 24/7. I've attempted to get my family to start but#they're still stuck in needing to not be openly negative. It also helps me accept that negative feelings don't last forever#Someone feeling miserable because they're sick eventually puts they feel tired. Then chill and I know they feel better and I feel better too#Anyways thanks for listening to me ramble about my silly little feelings wheel app I hope it helps you like it helped me anon <3
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emmenai-kalliston · 2 months
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no rizz just constantly "jokingly" tell him how fucking hot he is
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torgawl · 1 year
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slightly disappointed - just slightly - that they didn't include fischl in the windblume event because she would fit the legend/fairytale category of the charade so much?!
#how did they not remember the person that actually lives in one?#logically it would make sense okay 😂#i hope we get to see the other mondstadt characters even for a second at the end#jean barbara fischl kaeya diona and diluc the excluded ones ✌️#like i don't care about timmaeus and his crush sorry give me characters i care about (mona was so real for interrupting him yes queen <3)#okay sorry timmaeus i hope you succeed in romancing her 😔#i think you're a great addition to the synthesis thingie when i need to make materials the game wouldn't be the same without you 😔#on another note!!! i love when genshin's events or quests are like therapy sessions like yes thanks for teaching us about anxiety and#struggles with self identity and how sharing our problems with others isn't a burden and how being vulnerable will allow us to create#meaningful connections and relate to others around us that only through connection and being able to see other people we are able to#fight the feeling of alienation we had in the first place and gain a new found confidence!!! like yes. trauma holds us back and can#influence the way we interact with others around us and follow us for so much time but we can also thrive regardless!!!!#genshin lore is so good but also the way this game helps us find peace regarding so many things we all struggle with is beautiful methinks#a lot of the struggles the characters face in the game are related to the fantasy world their inserted to sure but they're also still#incredibly relatable to the most common person if we strip down that fantasy layer#i think it's about being seen and understood feeling less lonely and also seeing others through less of a 1st person lense about finding#beauty and significante in diversity#but anyways rant over#i'm having fun with windblume and i love events like this where we just get to revisit characters and see them have a good time with each#other!!! it's so comforting plus mondstadt looks so pretty
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nukenai · 10 months
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Real talk: I have bipolar that is decently managed through behavior modification/energy redirection, but I'm prone to RAGE SPIRALS when I'm particularly stressed, like I am right now due to extreme job workload and real life stress (moving horse to new barn this weekend and people at current barn being absolute freaks about it)
So what I'll do when my head feels full of screaming is just tweet 15,000 times or make 900 text posts. It's borderline incoherent and stupid but it "empties" my brain and is effective stress relief.
Here's a couple of examples of nonsense that triggered Rage Moments:
Last night I had to do a ton of housework despite my back and ribs killing me from a goddamn horse injury!
This morning my keurig kept flipping my circuit breaker and I just wanted some fucking coffee but I had to run up and down the stairs fifteen times at 8 in the morning and figure out why the fucking thing wouldn't just fucking brew my fucking coffee fuck!!!!
I'm happy to report I got all my housework done last night and also did not smash my keurig with a hammer this morning 😊 and all anyone else had to deal with was like 20 tweets about bizarre-for-9am topics.
This is also why I talk a mile a minute irl when I'm stressed. I'm very much an "external thinker" and saying stuff out loud helps my brain organize it better. I highly recommend talking to yourself loudly like a maniac when you're overwhelmed.
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flowercrown-bard · 1 year
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elytrafemme · 1 year
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there are some pros of having parents who are doctors but i have to say. the way that my parents particularly my mom do NOT understand how therapy works... 
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neverendingford · 3 months
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#tag talk#I keep getting customers being like “wow do you perform professionally?” and shit like that about my whistling and like..#no how do I tell you that I'm doing this for my own enjoyment and I don't think I'm better than anybody else I just think you all are worse#like. yeah I'm good at whistling that doesn't make me special or cool it just means everyone else sucks ass at whistling#seriously though. I hear people whistling breathy airy off-tune inconsistent note quality and I just.. ughhhhh stop stop stop stop stop#idk I'm tired of being told I should sell my crafts I should sell my art I should perform professionally I should make myself a spectacle#I'm not a thing to look at I'm not an object to pay for my soul isn't a thing you can buy on Etsy my habits aren't a show to purchase entry#I'm glad people enjoy listening to me whistle. I enjoy listening to me whistle. yeah sure I'm good at it. I just. ughhhh#don't tell me like you're leaving a comment underneath my YouTube video. I'm not content for you to consume.#ughhhh I hate public spectacle and maybe being a side show for every church in my parents' mission network had consequences on me#you know it took me until I was seventeen to finally say no when I was told to take off my shirt to display my scars to someone?#fifteen years of being a freak show. a news update. a creature to be looked at. disrobed and examined. displayed.#and I'm fucking done with it. I'm no one's toy I'm no one's property I'm no one's news letter topic.#I'm my own fucking person and I wish I could actually accept that instead of struggling with it constantly.#idk. maybe I have problems besides “you scored highly on our depression questionnaire so let's teach you coping methods”#maybe next time I have a therapy appointment I'll search my tag talks through jetblackcode and take notes ahead of time#I mean. I am blogging. that's like journaling. maybe I should actually use that to my advantage. go back and use the resources I have.#anyway that being said I've been practicing whistling the orange blossom special (Buddy Greene version) and it's very hard#but I'm getting much better at it.#I really started getting into harder stuff when I started college and would wander the campus whistling homestuck music (thanks Toby Fox)#Rondo Alla Turca is a particular favorite of mine cause it's got some really fun quick sequences#anyway if any of y'all have good recommendations on good chapstick/lipbalm brands that'd be sick because I need to start buying more#and like. find a really good brand that'll last longer on my lips and then just buy a case of it or something.#because I go through lip balm pretty quickly because your lips dry out when you whistle a lot and also I live in the desert so it's dry af
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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 months
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Let Me Help You
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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You knew something was off with Bucky the moment he came home. He kept rubbing his left shoulder, a deep grimace on his face.
You asked him what was wrong and he brushed it off saying it was just a tough mission. You didn't want to push him, so you let it go. You curled into his side on the couch, reading a book as he played with your hair.
And then he winced. Once. Twice. You've just about had it when he winces again. For the third time.
You snap your book shut. "Alright, that's it!"
"What?"
"Take off your shirt," you order.
Bucky quirks an eyebrow, a smirk slightly tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Really?"
"What? No!" You playfully swat his chest. "You're obviously in pain!"
“Aw…” Bucky dismissively waves his hand at you. "It's not that bad."
"It's been bugging you since you got back."
"I just overdid it a little. I'm fine." Even as the words leave his mouth, you can tell he's fighting back another wince.
"It's hard to see you like this."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine!" you insist. "I know you don't like other people seeing your arm, and I know you've said no to trying physical therapy, so if you're not going to go ask for help then just let me try to help you. Please?"
He deeply sighs, but considering that even the small rise and fall of his shoulders is sending pain radiating all through his shoulder, he's pretty sure he does need your help. "Fine..."
Your fingers trail over the metal plate holding his arm in place. As you flip the release trigger, he grits his teeth, a huff of relief leaving his lips as the vibranium arm detaches from the joint.
"Baby..." Your voice wavers slightly. It makes you want to cry for him. "It's really swollen. This had to have been bothering you."
"I'm used to it," he grumbles.
Your heart clenches for him. That was the problem. He was used to it. Far too used to pain. Far too used to dealing with it on his own. "I'm gonna go grab you some ice."
You return with an ice pack in hand moments later. He hisses as the coolness presses against his scarred flesh.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Thank you."
"All I did was grab an ice pack."
He grabs your unoccupied hand, kissing your palm, "No, thank you for caring. Sometimes, I forget that I'm not alone anymore."
"You'll never be alone. Not as long as I'm here." You press a gentle, feather light kiss to his shoulder, "From now on, promise you'll tell me when your arm's bothering you?"
He hums as your hand gently kneads his shoulder blade, soothing away the radiating ache and pain, "I promise."
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064
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d10nyx · 3 months
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don't hold your breath(nobody's home)
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk
a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3
word count: 1.9k words
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Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.
He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.
Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.
He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.
Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.
He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.
He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.
Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.
You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.
Fuck this.
He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.
“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 
He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.
“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.
“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”
Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.
Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.
You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”
He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.
“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”
There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?
He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.
“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.
You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.
“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.
“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”
Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.
“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.
“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.
“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”
“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”
That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.
“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”
Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.
He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.
“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.
When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.
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izhape · 3 months
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hello! i really need help :(
im a trans gay native with a broken ankle and without any income coming in thanks to not having short term disability insurance and unemployment denying me.
im reposting this donation post with updated information and to have it circulate again. thanks to your help, i was able to pay my portion of rent, but unfortunately things are only getting worse for me
instead of the initial 6 weeks i was told I wouldn't be able to walk, today i was told i now can't walk for three more months due to my ligaments needing to heal properly. this is a problem because my roommates refuse to sign a longer lease to give me time to heal, and the lease ends in June - the month that i will just barely be able to walk and do physical therapy and won't even be able to return to work yet during.
i need at least $200 to pay for insurance for my car, and i also need help paying my phone bill (which is $75 a month) and my portions for rent are $426 each month as well...and I'm not going to have any money coming in.
i do have a temporary remote job i will be working at the end of this month, but it's only two paychecks before the job is finished. i will update this post if i find stable remote income while i heal, but until then, im in some deep water. this is a long time that i won't be able to do anything, and i need money to help me move on top of everything
if you need any info about me, my living situation, etc. please don't hesitate to dm me! it's a lot to type up here but im an open book and i understand any hesitancy to help without more information. reblogs seriously help and even a single dollar donation means the world to me. thank you 🙏
my paypal
my venmo is @/hyLian, has an animal crossing icon
thank you so much. have a good day! photos of my X-ray pics under the readmore if you want them
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Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!
One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!
That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~
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It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.
This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?
According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.
He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.
Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.
You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"
Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.
That was definitely going to take some getting used to.
But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.
You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"
He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.
"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"
"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"
"The astral tadpole is still-"
"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."
There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.
He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.
But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.
You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.
But before all that... he had to know something.
The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."
He was just praying those future plans still involved him.
You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"
That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"
"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"
Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?
"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."
He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."
In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.
But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.
"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."
That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.
"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."
"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"
Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
shit talkin' up all night
for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script
rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit
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The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.
They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.
It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.
"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.
"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."
"Then I'll get another job."
"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."
"Eds, you would hate it there."
"Well, it's a paycheck."
Steve sighed and walked away.
And then it got worse.
Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.
Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.
Back to square one.
Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.
Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.
Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.
It did start to work eventually.
"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.
"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.
Steve would push.
Eddie would push back.
Little things turned into big things.
And then Eddie came home drunk.
He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.
The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.
Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.
The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.
"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."
Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.
"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"
Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.
The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.
"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."
"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"
Eddie was silent.
"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"
Eddie shook his head once.
"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."
"Okay."
"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."
"Robin, I-"
"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."
Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.
He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.
Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.
When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.
"Eds? What's this?"
"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."
Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.
"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."
"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?
"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."
Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.
"You did all this for me?"
"For us."
"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"
"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.
They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.
"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."
"I know. I think it'll be great."
The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.
By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.
Steve leaned in to kiss him.
Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.
And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.
When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.
Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.
"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.
"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"
"Sounds good, love. Wine?"
Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.
Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."
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luveline · 8 months
Note
hi baby if you feel up for it i'd love to request some fluffy fluff with sirius. maybe he's usually so reserved and stoic (because, cmon) and they're out with his friends and they're all making fun of him for being so lovey and doting on r
love u sm!
love you!! ♡ fem, 1k
"This is really lovely," Sirius says, your face turned to the light in his hand. "It's bright without looking out of place. Blue is your colour." 
"Thanks, bug," you murmur back, holding still as he cleans the smudged mascara from your lower lash line.
"Every colour is your colour," he amends. "It goes nice with your top." 
You rub your lips together slowly, sticky with gloss. His noticing makes all your make up efforts worth it. 
Sirius wipes his thumb into the tissue you'd given him and tucks it away, stroking your cheek one last time with his other hand before stealing yours to twine your fingers. Your friends have carried on into the pub, but it doesn't take long to catch them. Remus was kind enough to wait at the entrance, eyebrows raised. 
"What?" Sirius asks. 
"Nothing." It's clearly something. "At all." 
You figure it's between them and skirt past Remus with a smile, eager to hide away in the warm wooded walls of The Firestroke. The boys filter in behind you, following you through the entryway and past the bar to the table James has commandeered with Emmeline. 
He's fiddling with her hair, readjusting a bobby pin, another held between his lips. "It looks nice, Emme, you should have it out of your face more often." 
"Marl says that all the time. Hey!" She beams at you. "Come and sit by me." 
You laugh happily and slide onto the seat next to her. You, Emme, and James sit on the booth side while Sirius and Remus set themselves down opposite. A waitress arrives and Sirius doesn't wait for the others, ordering a round of drinks for the entire group, wherever they may be. They'll filter in soon enough. 
"And extra cherries for my girl, please," Sirius says, nodding to you as he does. "Thanks." 
"Ooh, for his girl," James croons. 
"Remember when he'd order stuff for me like that?" Remus asks. 
Sirius rolls his eyes, offering his hands to you from across the table. Honestly, you're slightly surprised at his behaviour today, but you won't look a gift horse in the mouth. You lay your hands in his obligingly and relax as he begins to draw shapes into the fronts of your fingers, tiny stroking lines that feel ridiculously good, even under the eyes of your friends. "He's lying. I'd purposefully get his food wrong when we were teenagers so he'd have to go up to the counter and correct it." 
"Like exposure therapy I never signed up for," Remus sighs. "It worked, too." 
Sirius laughs. He's handsome to begin with, the last burst of a tan from summer's end on his skin, his hair dark and lush in the shimmering light, and when he laughs it's a tenfold effect, the grey of his eyes suddenly mesmerising, the wicked curve of his smile softened into a sweeter thing that begs to be kissed, or admired at the very least. You let him keep one hand but turn the other inward to give him similar treatment, rubbing your fingertips up and down his palm in a ticklish wave. 
"Do that to me, mate, there's a good lad," James says, offering his hand. Emmeline bats it away. 
"Awfully jealous today, aren't they?" Sirius asks you, ignoring their teasing to curl your fingers in and cover them. 
"I…" You're not sure what to say. Does he not realise how sweet he's being? Publicly? He's not usually this open. 
"You okay?" 
"Fine, just…" Words fail you twice. You cringe at your lack of explanation, but Sirius doesn't falter in his nice touches. It shouldn't shock you when he slides his chair tight against the table and pulls your hands ever closer, his top lip scratchy with hair as he leans down to kiss your knuckles. "Siri." 
"Yes, darling?"
"Jesus," Marl says, announcing her presence with a faked gag. "What's your problem, Black?" 
"I'm deeply in love, McKinnon. Not that you'd know what that feels like." 
You melt in your chair as he kisses a short path to your wrist. You could write Marlene a ten thousand word essay on love if she needed it, that's how adored he's got you feeling. 
"Absolutely vile."
"So sweet!" Mary denies, plopping herself down in the chair beside Sirius', all pink tulle and flowery smells. Any other day you'd be jealous of her in a good-natured but undeniably insecure manner, terrified that Sirius was gonna turn to her and see her in all her dewy beauty, but he doesn't so much as look up, your hands now rubbed against his cheek. 
"He's had a bit of catnip or something," Remus says. 
"It's the eyeshadow," you try to explain. 
Sirius lifts his head severely. "It looks perfect, but it's definitely not the eyeshadow. I'd feel just as mad about you if you were covered in soot." 
"Good to know," you say breathlessly. 
"Oh, so you're feeling pathetic today?" Marl asks.
Sirius sighs as though he's been greatly inconvenienced and sits up properly, casting his gaze around the group for a lick of sense between them, if his slack eyebrows are anything to go off of. "You're all wrong. I'm this pathetic for her every day of the week." 
"Then what's with the PDA?" James asks incredulously. 
"Mate, first of all, look at her. And if you must know, it's our anniversary." 
You flinch, your gaze jumping to his. The group erupts with well wishes and 'why didn't you say so's, and James slaps his card on the table, insisting that the round is on him to celebrate. Your heart races as you make the calculations in your head, calming as you realise that nothing falls on today's date, not a half month nor a first date. 
"Sirius?" you ask while everyone's distracted. 
He takes your hand again and begins kissing your knuckles once more. "I'm lying," he says, as you'd figured, scratching your fingers with his stubble. "That's what he gets for prying… You really do look lovely tonight." 
You nearly swallow your tongue. "Thank you. You look lovely, too." 
He smiles, twining your fingers together to rest his face against the back of your hand. "Thanks, angel." 
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shojizbae · 9 days
Text
Mothers Day
Spencer Reid x Reader
As the newest member of the team, everyone is shocked by your boldness.
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Everyone knew not to trespass when Las Vegas or Mental illness was a factor in the case. Everyone but you, apparently. By chance, the team's last case to Vegas was two months before your hire. Now, you were making very dangerous strides around a very delicate subject. The Unsub was suspected to be a man on a psychotic break and had begun devolving before the team had even been called in. Ever the overtly ambitious profiler you wanted to follow Spencer Reid for his ultra-secret contact.
"He prefers to go alone." My eyes met the dark brown hand on my bicep
"We really shouldn't be going places alone. You know the FBI minted the buddy system?" I shook him off
"I know, baby girl, but this is delicate. You just gotta leave it alone."
"Derek, you, of all people, should be aware of my incessant control problems."
"I have to agree with Morgan. This is something you need to let be."
"But you know I can't. Doctor Reid!" I darted off after him. He was tense, like the way people get when they hear a tornado siren and have to put themselves in their basement or put a mattress over their bathtub. He was preparing for disaster. "I truly believe it would be beneficial if I were to go with you."
"Would it be benefitting the case or your psyche?" He prods
"Well, both and neither." I readjust my little rectangular glasses, "As you know, I'm extraneously protective, to a fault. Also, I am working on my doctorate in psychology and I'm writing a dissertation on noncommutative disorder clusters. And I'm comfortable around disorders. Actually, I find it strange that when we talk about OCD, we call it a 'disorder' when people just like things organized in a particular manner." I snort to punctuate my rambling, but he only grits his jaw. "Aw man, that joke usually kills in my schizoid heredity focus group." He sighs as he tugs his satchel on.
"You need to stay quiet and low profile." He orders, and I know my dorky smile splits my face. He leads me to a big black SUV, where I take the driver's seat. He gives me directions, leading me from the way through town street and down some scary back roads. Eventually, we pass a sign that reads Bennington Sanitarium. He tells me to turn left, and we park in the back of the parking lot. He tells me to leave my gun in the car, and I follow him with my head down.
"So, who's this ultra-secret contact you have?" His stress seemed to triple, "Some fancy professor from Caltech?" He's being intentionally nebulous, I'm aware but there's some fun in playing nosy-cop.
"No, it's not someone who worked at Caltech."
"Oh, but a professor? Where'd they work, Burkley? Or maybe some school in Vegas. Let's see, there are not that many high-profile universities in Vegas."
"No, she hasn't worked in years." His voice sharpens in frustration, so I back down, readjusting my glasses, and licking the corner of my lips. We enter and a receptionist recognizes Spencer immediately with a big smile.
"Dr. Reid how lovely to see you. Have you come to visit your mother? She'll be ecstatic. It's been far too long." Oh, like mother like son. She must be a psychiatrist. I smile softly at the notion. It will be so interesting to see who and where Spencer came from.
"Thank you, Sheryl, how has she been."
"Well, she has her day, but mostly, she just reads. You know the book club started a new series." Sherly playfully brushes his arm and giggles.
"That's good."
"She should have just gotten out of therapy." Sheryl smiles and rakes her eyes over the young doctor. Finally, she makes eye contact with me.
"Oh well, you're new," she cheers in a vaguely Midwestern accent. You'll need a visitor's pass, hon." She gets one from a drawer and hands it to me. "So, do you work at the FBI, too, or are you coming to meet the in-laws?"
"I'm an agent," I laugh. If I were lucky enough to snag him, that would be an HR nightmare." Playfully, I pat his chest. He guffaws dryly as I slide the plastic lanyard around my neck.
Spencer leads me through the building, mostly there are elderly people playing chess or using oil pastels as nurses and orderlies orbit them. He leads me through a large living room past an Asian woman knitting. We find a woman with blonde hair biting her nails on the couch as she ponders something.
"Hi, Mom," He warbles. There's an extra beat between his greeting and her response. It's like she snaps out of a trance when she sees her son.
"Spencer, honey, what are you doing here?"
"Me and my frie-"
"Oh my goodness, thank whatever deities you deny the existence of; you're finally giving me some grandchildren."
"No, Mom, this is my coworker Agent (L/n). She and I just have some questions for you regarding our case."
"Well, at least sit down." She pats the space next to her, and Spencer obeys, "You too, young lady."
"Yes, ma'am." I take the only spot right next to him, and Spencer begins rattling off questions while his mom sits there with her hand under her nose. She sits and observes Spencer like no one at the BAU does. When he finishes contextualizing the case with her she stews on every word like his voice is her favorite song.
"So our first question for you is, uh (Y/n), you might be better at asking." He makes the wringing motion of cracking his knuckles, but no sound comes out.
"Um, mostly, the bureau is interested in the capabilities of delusion to overlap reality. When you are having an episode, do you recognize the difference between your actions and your perceptions?" I retrieve a legal pad and a fountain pen and click it theatrically. Diana keeps her hand over her mouth and inhales longingly through her nose. She points at me but doesn't look at me.
"You're a very smart young woman," She locks her eyes on me, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."
"Of course, wagers are the drug of choice in Vegas, well that and alcohol and mostly any other drug you can think of." I correct myself
"God, you're so much like him." She looks to her son."Why aren't you dating my Spencer?"
"Uh," is all that dumbly spills from my mouth.
"You two seem perfectly suitable for each other. Is it because he's so skinny?"
"No,"
"Well, he's incredibly handsome and talented; even a pigeon could see he's intelligent beyond a lexicon." She rambles
"Mom, I think that's enough."
"Spencer, you haven't visited me in over a year, and how do you believe that's any way to speak to your mother." She reprimands me. Had the information not shocked me, I would have giggled.
"Spencer, over a year?!" I swat his arm, "You've had time off. Why wouldn't you come to visit?"
"Oh well, I've still gotten my daily letters," she pouts. But it's been too long, and I'm getting old." She begins to bat her eyelashes, and she holds onto his arm.
"I'm trying, Mom," he whined
"To visit or to get me some grandkids?" she sasses
"Mom," He groaned, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.
"What about you, young lady? Do you have any kids??"
"No, ma'am."
"Why not?" I could see where Spencer gets his tunnel thinking.
"My career has made it difficult to go out on dates and fall in love," I admitted it was almost like Diana could extract the truth from me
"Well, then, date my Spencer."
"Mom!" he protested
"Shh! It's a win-win: I get grandbabies, you get dates, and neither of your careers gets in the way." I meant to retaliate, but her infallible logic knocked all the fire out of me.
"Let's finish up this interview and solve this case then we can circle back." I mitigated
Two days later, the case was solved, and we were riding the jet back to Virginia. Everyone had filed off the plane but Spencer and I.
"So, do you have any plans tonight?" It threw me further off guard than Diana.
"I was just gonna turn on Real Housewives reruns and cuddle cannoli." It was how I spent most nights.
"Would you object to a date?"
"Tonight?"
"We could watch the Real Housewives and hang out with your cat??"
"You want to do that?"
"It sounds much better than sweating in an overpriced Italian restaurant." He laughs and rings his knuckles
"it does, I think I have NBC, we could watch Star Trek after." I offer as we walk from the landing strip to the BAU. We made a sojourn at his home so he could shower and put on comfortable clothes. Two years later it would be cannoli to ring bear your wedding. Spencer would have to credit his mother who walked you both down the aisle simultaneously for your relationship and the whole team would have to agree.
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