#Like being on drugs without drugs (not that I know what it feels like but I can definitely reach an altered state of consciousness

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 spoilers⚠️

i just saw someone say "vi put on a uniform for caitlyn but caitlyn never took hers off", even going as far as saying that caitvi shouldn't have ended up together bcuz they have the dynamic of "oppressor and oppressed". tell me you've never paid attention to a single thing caitlyn's done or said in either season without telling me😭😭 (this is my nth post abt this bcuz it pisses me off when ppl mischaracterize her so when you see underlined text, it's linked to a more detailed post)

are we forgetting when she traded her weapon, her gun, her only protection away for a shimmer/medication/potion thing w/ that fucked up undercity dude with the glasses (the one who became the first of the glorious evolution) for vi and hugged him as thanks?

when she saw ekko's commune, his tree, and validated ekko's feelings about piltover and enforcers but also told him the cycle of violence needs to be broken because the undercity needs healing - something ekko could understand even in his anger and hurt.

when she confronted her own parents abt how the government doesn't care about zaun and the situation there, and then took it straight to the council. when jayce, her literal childhood best friend and basically a brother to her, now a councilor, ASKED HER IF SHE KNOWS WHO MADE ONE OF JINX'S BOMBS AND SHE WENT "no, well, uh-" because vi held her hand. she asked him, in front of everyone, "what happened to you" when he suggested using hextech to invade zaun.

even when vi got sick of trying to change things through the council, caitlyn kept telling her there must be another way and they just needed to make a new plan. oil and water, vi said, and that she was stupid to think it would work, but caitlyn's response was, what about us? what about the actual people, not their value as representatives of a group, a stereotype, one of many indistinguishable units? we aren't oil and water.

ppl say she used to view zaunites as just "creeps, crooks and villains" and after seeing more from them through vi, she changed it to "innocent helpless victims", which obv is dehumanizing since you don't recognize a person's capability for both good and evil and only see them as a stereotype. but she's always recognized both kinds of people exist in the undercity and that being "good" or "bad" isn't that simple. ppl seem to be mad she didn't try and dismantle piltover's entire police force like that would be possible or a solution to zaun's problems. she has a strong moral compass and a sense of justice - innocents should be protected and criminals prosecuted, zaunites or topsiders. if you steal, you should go to jail. but when you come from the dark alleys of zaun and poverty and deprivation is all you know, you're way more likely to steal, and when enforcers are prejudiced against you, you're more likely to face excessive violence and maybe serve a longer sentence. and this is why she tells the council that there are good people down there, that there is rampant poverty, famine, a drug problem, etc. her focus is on the daily humanitarian struggles of the average people.

you guys will twist yourselves in knots to make excuses for jinx, justify her actions and forgive her for what she's done (when she literally, aside from murdering a bunch of people and destroying a fuckton of stuff because she was insane, unstable and uncontrollable, literally directly prevented zaun from getting sovereignty by blowing up the council) but you don't recognize caitlyn's entire change in character started when jinx tried to blow her up multiple times, kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, blew up the council killing her mother and then (this wasn't jinx but caitlyn doesn't know that) turned the councilor memorial statue reveal to a massacre. see: this very accurate post.

"caitlyn never took her uniform off" well maybe because she was scared of jinx, paranoid, angry, grieving her mother, seeking justice and buckling under the pressure of becoming head of house kiramman. perfectly normal reactions considering the circumstances. she even acknowledged to jayce how upsetting it was to realize this hate she harbored for jinx had started to undo a lot of the work she did towards understanding the undercity and zaunites better and seeking to help them. but i believe she thought jinx was a hazard to them too.

i have a whole other post diving into this, as well as why she wanted vi to "put on a uniform" (temporarily until they caught jinx, and not just bcuz she thought vi was "one of the good ones" but bcuz she wanted her close, under her protection and equipped w/ all resources and privileges available to piltover, not to mention ppl are seriously undermining the fact that vi played a role in that conflict too) and why she made the mistake of going too far in her pursuit of jinx - most notably becoming rougher and jailing people, poisoning the air as a battle tactic, endangering isha, hurting vi, assuming the commander position and pursuing jinx even harder. but this post isn't about that, it's about other ways in which she metaphorically took off her uniform, and even the way she wore it.

caitlyn wasn't happy as a commander, she wasn't going on a power trip, she didn't "become a dictator all too willingly" like ppl are saying. and yes, that doesn't mitigate the damage she did to zaun but she had clear goals she was pursuing, none of which involved harming innocents (but protecting them), and she even confronted ambessa when she thought her right hand was out of line, which caused tension between them. though blinded by a desire for revenge, she remained concerned with the undercity's state and realized ambessa was manipulating her, even saying something like "why is peace always a justification for violence?" to her. the cost of what she was doing was too much for her. all things considered, commander caitlyn wore her uniform in the best possible way.

and she took it off as soon as she saw what was on the line. vi's father turned monster would go berserk when injected by singed, innocents would be ripped to shreds, and he'd be captured and used as a weapon by ambessa (against the undercity or whomever). for all of these reasons, caitlyn betrayed ambessa. she double crossed her, and the way she acted it out matters, not just because vi, who she'd decked the last time she saw, called her "cupcake". but because it was the right fucking thing to do.

i have a separate post about caitlyn's implied guilt about the things she'd done, about her knowing she couldn't undo those mistakes. this is what made her so desparate to try to make up for them that she not only send the guards away so vi could free jinx (another brilliant analysis here), but it also resulted in the way she fought ambessa tooth and nail alongside mel - like she had a death wish. she, a sniper, sacrificed her eye so she could remove ambessa's talisman by cutting it free with the dagger she took out of her own side. and even in the very end, when she asks vi if she's still in this fight, it could be interpreted as the fight for zaun too since she gave sevika, a zaunite, an ally of jinx, her mother's councilor seat.

so don't fucking talk to me about how she "never took her uniform off" for vi, when she's done that so many times metaphorically (and their last scene is literally one of the very few in the entire show where she isn't wearing any insignia), and she's done it for zaun too. and maybe even more so than that - it's how she wore it that matters. what she did with her privilege and her power - her character and agency.

season two is at fault for mismanaging the piltover/zaun conflict and not focusing on it enough in its latter half, as well as also not showing any proper longer caitvi conversations that might've taken place, in favor of... glorious evolution alien robots??

[corasexigence]

Intox Play Primer

Vet for high risk play. If you don't have the utmost trust in someone, control what you're putting in your own body and know where it all came from.

Check for interactions. Yes, this means sharing complete information about whatever medications the person getting drugged is on. No, the interactions are not always intuitive. Yes, this includes things like alcohol. Ideally, ask your doctor about interactions with whatever you're about to play with- they're trained in spotting interactions, you're probably not.

ETA- @vekarin-striae mentioned that pharmacists are often cheaper, more specialized, and less invasive to talk to about drug interactions.

If you've checked the interactions yourself, assume you might have missed something. Even if you've gotten your doctor to check, be aware they might have missed something. I once caught a potassium deficiency issue in someone's existing medication that their doctor prescribed them.

ROUND 1- Use it for its own sake before you play with it. Spend the time together and set yourself up for success: easy access to food, water, comfort media, and comfortable places to sit and lie down. Know how long it should last. Get someone who's used it before to tripsit if you can. Don't give yourself any tasks that involve new skills. Be ready to offer yourself or your partner a redirect from negative or anxious trains of thought.

Know what a good time on your drug physically looks and feels like. This is crucial, because things might go sideways in a way you're not expecting. Don't just be watching for specific signs of an overdose (though those are worth keeping in mind too)- if something seems wrong, get help. Seconds matter and you're probably not a professional.

Similarly: if the drug is at all sedative, or a downer, or long-lasting, and they're unconscious before it's out of their system, check for breathing and check for pulse. Also, your risk profile is your own, but I don't fuck around with hard sedatives- there's too fine a line between which body systems they shut down.

Start with a low-to-standard dose, and adjust doses for any relevant interactions (e.g. estradiol approximately halves liver tolerance [alcohol, weed, diphenhydramine], SSRIs approximately double psychedelic tolerance).

In order to avoid dependence issues, I wait a default of two weeks between recreational uses of any drug. (I only count caffeine here if I'm having more than two cups of tea in a day.)

ROUND 2- Play with it scripted and above board before you play with it in an explicitly cnc way. Your communication and mental state will have shifted, and you'll need to learn to accommodate that; make sure you try things out without added communication barriers first. Also, make sure to talk about how everything went afterwards when you're both sober!

If you're going to adjust doses, do it slowly and carefully. Most easily accessible recreational drugs can be incremented by half the standard dose. Some drugs are incredibly sensitive to fine adjustments; this is why Fentanyl, for example, is so dangerous and not recommended to use.

ROUND 3- Don't get comfortable. Try to have as peaceful and relaxed an experience as you want, and keep an eye on things as you play with different emotional states- but DEFINITELY continue to keep an eye on safety. It doesn't stop being a concern because you've done it once and everything went fine.

ETA- Mind how drugs affect things like pain tolerance! You might miss important signals from your body. Also, pay attention to overlap with your neurotype when planning and risk profiling. You might desire or achieve different effects depending on your own specific brain.

[rejectedfables]

Ghostfuckers watch party aftercare was spent philosophizing lore theories on my couch like ancient greek philosophers, and produced one of my favorite plot theories yet.

The Theory:

The Barbie and Blitz falling out was because Barbie and the Sin of Sloth, Belphegor, were in a toxic relationship with a hefty power imbalance, wherein Belphegor had gotten Barbie hooked on drugs and was (or at least Blitz perceived her to be) toying with Barbie for entertainment. Blitz stepped in to defend/protect Barbie, and Belphegor broke off the relationship, because it wasn't worth the drama. Barbie, who wasn't ready to acknowledge how bad the relationship was, blames Blitz for ruining her life.

The way Blitz saw his own relationship with Stolas was warped by having witnessed Barbie's deeply unhealthy relationship with a Sin who saw her as less than. In an attempt to not fall prey to the same situation he witnessed, Blitz assumed that Stolas saw him how Belphegor saw Barbie.

---

NOTE: this post was made in 11/2024, after Ghostfuckers and before Mastermind

(Evidence below the cut so this post isn't bonkers long like all my other meta posts:)

The Evidence:

Royals:

In their fight during Full Moon, Blitz yells "You royal fucks think you can do this every time!" ("Like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!") at Stolas, but we have no context for what other "royal" he's referencing. The only other Goetia we know Blitz has interacted with (more than tossing out a one-liner at Stella and bolting) was Stolas' father (extremely briefly, over 20 years ago), and Octavia, and it seems like a stretch to believe this could be referencing either of them. Conclusion: Blitz is referencing an experience that we, the audience, don't know about yet. This experience involved someone he considers "a royal", and we most likely haven't encountered them yet on screen.

In Oops Blitz refers to Ozzie as Fizz's "big royal chicken," and in Mammon's Special Blitz refers to him as "royal big man." Conclusion: Sins count as "royal" to Blitz, so the royal referenced in Full Moon could be one of the Sins.

In Oops, Blitz's lines about relationships between a royal and a member of "the lower class" ("I'm sure your big royal chicken ain't gonna let anything happen to his peppy lil fuck doll," and "Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress. […] It's nothing else. […] Stolas […] loves feeling the thrill of getting dicked by the lower class. It's a novelty to him") are startling, given what the audience has seen of Blitz and Stolas' relationship. There are clear ELEMENTS of class difference, but Blitz's vehemence seems excessive. That is, unless he's projecting a past experience onto this situation.

If Blitz were referencing a Goetia, it seems odd that we haven't heard anything about his experience with Goetia from his past. He refers to Stolas as "THE bird." It's possible, but seems unlikely to me.

If Blitz is referencing a Sin, there's only 7 options. Ozzie, Bee, Mammon, and Lucifer all seem off the table for different reasons (the first three because we've seen his interactions with them, and they didn't seem loaded in this way; Lucifer because, well, Amazon owns the rights to Lucifer and I think it would be tough to explore this in the way I think this show wants to without the relevant character making an appearance). Satan seems unlikely, given that Blitz uses his name very casually as a swear, and has never reacted to it being said in any noticeable way. This leaves Leviathan and Belphegor as the top suspects for who Blitz could have been referencing/has a history with.

However, IF Blitz has a personal history with another royal, such as has an ex or an ex boss, who has had such a dramatic impact on his expectations and worldview, why has that person not shown up in either of his hallucination sequences (depicting first "truth bombs" Blitz had been avoiding facing, in Truth Seekers, then his insecurities in Ghostfuckers)? I think the most likely explanation is that this royal who he witnessed playing with an imp's feelings was not actually playing with BLITZ. He was deeply affected by witnessing someone ELSE experience a dynamic that he has now projected onto his relationship with Stolas.

Barbie and Blitz:

It would be redundant to rehash the fire with Barbie after doing so with Fizz. It seems like tired storytelling to have her issues with Blitz be the same as Fizz's were, even with a side of "You killed our mom!" baked in.

If Blitz's self loathing and sense that he ruins the lives of everyone around him were only/mostly sourced to the fire, they wouldn't be so compounded. In order to feel the way he does, he has been blamed for "ruining the lives" of his loved ones repeatedly, not just by multiple people at one time for one event.

In Unhappy Campers Barbie defaults to calling Blitz "Blitz" without the O, and only uses the O later when she's trying to be mean. This implies that she had a relationship with Blitz AFTER he decided to change his name (after the fire), and knows him AS Blitz, and therefore that their falling out was about something that happened later.

In Unhappy Campers, she says "Haven't you fucked up my life enough already?" which feels more pointed than just being about the loss of their mother.

The forehead marks that most members of the Circus had seem to be difficult to get rid of (Fizz's was unaffected by the burn, and he covers his to this day rather than getting rid of it somehow). This could simply be a tattoo, or it could be because they're magical in some way. If they are, for example, a symbol of the Circus having been owned/run by one of the Sins, it would be notable that Barbie appears to be the only person who has successfully affected hers, and that she's done so by having it crossed out with little hearts above and below it. Possibly only a sin has the power to overwrite whatever those marks are, and if so, the little hearts might be a sign of the type of relationship she had with that Sin. (This point is a little dubious, since the poster of them working together appears to be BEFORE the fire, as Blitz doesn't have his scars yes, but AFTER she's crossed out her mark already. This could just be an inconsistency from an early episode, could mean this detail is unrelated, could be a point against my theory, or it COULD imply that the relationship with Belphegor started quite early.)

Drugs:

Almost all references to drugs in the show are sourced through Belphegor. Bee references "Belphegor's party drugs," The hospitals are in the Sloth ring, and Stolas' happy pills are from Belphegor (her name's right on the label). On Blitz's phone, there's 7 apps themed after the 7 Sins, and the Sloth one (Belphegor) is called "Sleepy Pillz".

"H8", the drug Blitz was afraid that Barbie was back on, and therefore probably what she went to rehab to get off of, is an irl opioid that is multiple times stronger than morphine. This would make a lot of sense as being a drug one could acquire from the Sin of Sloth, who is in charge of the ring of Hell where all the hospitals are.

Barbie being in rehab means either BLITZ is paying for her rehab, or that someone else is paying (seems unlikely as we aren't given the impression she has a support network at this point), or that Belphegor herself simply approved the expense.

Other details:

Belphegor is a woman and Barbie was depicted in pride month merch with the pan flag colors, so Barbie being in a romantic/sexual relationship with a woman is viable.

In the 11/12/24 holiday merch drop, in the main set of matching art pieces (used for clothes and mugs), Barbie was the ONLY one with candles in her theming. The baphomets (the demon species from Belphegor's domain) have candles on their foreheads, and the dubiously canon placeholder official art we've seen of Belphegor also has a candle on her forehead. Merch art doesn't necessarily mean anything, and should not be considered canon (nor should the placeholder art), but it COULD be a subtle nod to plot events to come. This is not actually evidence. Unless?

We are getting, so far, two Sins introduced per season-- Ozzie and Bee in s1, Mammon and Satan in s2, which leaves Leviathan and Belphegor for s3. Vivzie has said that we ARE getting more Barbie Wire in the show, but not until later in season 3, which COULD align Barbie's reintroduction into the story with Belphegor's introduction.

---

This isn't a headcanon, but rather a possible direction I think the show could go, which would have been subtly foreshadowed if it does go in this direction.

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Headcanons for Pico hanging out with reader while they're both drunk/high? He'd be a fun boyfriend to get fucked up with.

High & Drunk HC’s With Pico

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Admittedly I wrote this without much sleep. I decided to pull an all nighter because of my shitty sleep schedule so please excuse any mistakes. ~ Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️Smoking/Drugs + Drinking/Alcohol⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Pico

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art By FNF Crew + Banner By hwmnwo (Edited by me) On Pinterest

———————————

- When it comes wanting to either smoke or drink I feel like he’s more of a smoker than a drinker. Not that he doesn’t drink it’s just that if you gave him the option to either smoke a joint or jug down some vodka he’s choosing the first option. Plus as I mentioned in my previous fic about him he canonically smokes and ‘chokes down in large quantities’ (that’s what phantom arcade said) so it kind of makes sense. Also I like to think he absolutely hates hangovers. Minor or severe he just can’t handle them. Having a massive headache, throwing up what you had the previous night, every part of your body aching. He hates it. He dealt with worse shit and he was able to handle that but not this. So he would rather smoke to avoid that.

- Again like in my previous fic of him he literally just calls you up and asks if you want to smoke or drink. Sometimes he doesn't bother calling you, he just shows up. Like one minute you're alone then you hear your doorknob rustle before Pico just bursts in with either weed or alcohol in hand saying he wants to hang out. Obviously you agreed because one he was already here and two you had nothing better to do so you just agreed.

- Now for what he’s like when he’s high:

- I feel like it might take a little bit for him to get high. Only because he’s been somewhat consistent with it back in Pico School. I also think it depends on what type of drugs he’s using. He prefers to use at least a few blunts compared to other things like edibles. Not that he doesn’t like it, he does. He likes to see how he can put weed in his food but for him at least it takes longer to hit. He wants it to hit as soon as possible. I think this mostly stems from him trying to calm himself down especially after what happened back at school.

- I bet Pico would be the type of person to just zone out while high with a shit eating grin on his face. The smallest things make him laugh. Like I said, the reason why he gets high is because he needs to destress so the whole point is that he’s getting to that relaxation point and not an anxious point. He just zones out. The type of conversations the two of you have while high is very questionable but the two of you don’t do anything about it.

- You don’t really do anything else when both you and him are smoking. Mostly just watch whatever the hell is on tv and munching on some shit completely tripping on whatever the two of you took.

- As for when he gets drunk:

- As I said before he prefers to get high then drunk so you don’t really see him get drunk often but he does do it. I feel like he’s kind of a heavy weight despite not drinking often. I feel like he doesn't like sweet drinks/cocktails. I just don’t see him drinking anything sweet. He just downs alcohols like vodka.

- I don’t why but I’d like to think he’d be an emotional drunk. Why? Because it’s funny or me just being delusional. Seeing him and his usual personality becoming an emotional mess is just funny to me. I also like to think he’d be kind of clingy especially around you. Sobbing into your shoulder while telling you how much he loves and appreciates you. While you on the other end have to comfort him telling him you know and appreciate him as well.

- I also like to think he’d be kind of reckless while drunk as well. I think it mostly stems from him being emotional. He just so hyped up that he just can’t stay still so he just goes around doing random shit. It’s like trying to look after a child with how he acts. It’s even worse when both of you are drunk. He just encourages you to join in and with you also being drunk and not making that great of decisions you enable it. Sometimes you two find yourself covered in bruises causing you two to think how the hell you got them/what the hell the two of you did.

- Though he kind of enjoys the moment of being drunk as I mentioned he absolutely hates the hangover part. He just doesn’t like the feeling of every part of his body hurting while trying not to throw up, sometimes failing to do so. He constantly complains about the smallest things while hungover but despite this if you're also hungover he does still try to comfort you. Patting your back telling you it’s alright while throwing up himself. He ain’t letting it stop him to make sure you're alright.

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[lilcathsmith]

Greg in every episode of CSI (87/328) • Down The Drain •

[yesplsnothankyou]

I only come on tumblr when I'm at the very end of my rope and barely hanging on by a quickly disintegrating thread and I don't know what that tells you about me

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[fagmuppet]

why am i sooo deeply unloveable lol

[thebleedingeffect]

.

[running-in-the-dark]

I guess it just feels like I'm stuck in a cage made entirely by my own thoughts. that sounds so dramatic but it does feel like that.

like, it's not just that I'm scared of things so everything is kind of hard. it's that there's many, many things I would like to do or at least try, but I can't make myself do them. not 'oh this is a bit difficult so I'm afraid to try', no, it's not. an option. there's no path from 'want to do this' to 'I'm doing this'. I can't convince myself to do it. there's no tricks or anything. my brain, the useless thing that I need to do literally everything, doesn't allow it.

[shima-draws]

I think I’m finally getting over my sickness 🤧 Can’t believe I was on another planet for like 3 solid days lmao

[sluttish-armchair]

I swear to god “Gelatinous” is fucking possessed. Some days it sounds completely normal, and then all of a sudden it starts sounding detuned — like the pitch is warping down and glitching (in ways it isn’t supposed to) — right in the middle of listening to it and it gets creepier and creepier with each subsequent listen. But if I take a long pause from the song before listening to it again, it goes back to normal. It never distorts when I’m waiting for it to distort; it only does it when I’m not prepared for it.

It could be a sensory processing thing (I have some auditory stuff ~going on~ but uh… I’ve never experienced anything quite like this before.) If I listen to it enough I begin to feel as if I’m getting high and literally turning gelatinous myself. What the fuck.

[noidedgirl]

also, i told gf about the self harming. it was … awkward? but she’s so nice to me, i almost lost it. i don’t know why she’s so nice to me.

she found out because she asked to reach up my skirt and i said no, and then i couldn’t focus on making out- i wanted to cry or crawl into a hole or something. it didn’t help i Wanted her to reach up my skirt, so i sat far away and wrote a long note, then destroyed the note, and very slowly admitted to what i did while burying my face against her chest. she just kind of gasped and got teary eyed, and it was strange. she tried to make me give all my lighters to my chronic smoker roommate, and i just laughed at her. the effort was admirable and kind but there’s no no no way im stopping doing this.. i don’t see it as a problem.

i did tell her the most recent time was the day before and showed the marks to her. she complimented my star 😭😭LMAO

[saltedcoffeee]

thinking abt writing a fic where charles gets confronted w how much he actually uses his mutation n getting all butthurt so he goes okay watch me!!!! n starts taking the suppressing drug again n at first ppl r like aw man maybe we should apologize :( n then they realize their heads feel a lot emptier than usual bc theyre so used to him being a sort of passive presence in their subconscious. yes its horrifying for everybody involved.

[thethingything]

I need to get ready for bed but I remembered the dentist appointment that's coming up in less than 2 weeks and ended up dissociating for over 2 hours (I'm honestly not sure how long it's been) and I do not feel good in the slightest after that

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️