#calling myself out for needing to make more tags >_>

[reidology13]

I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does.

cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day. 

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

[flownintothesun]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 :

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── with all of the love to nonny's ( @batteredoptimist ) muses, as always and as ever. of course i couldn't do a meme without mentioning my muses' darling loves.

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

A cozy, good bug because my pal said he’s got oversized sweater energy.

Mayflies are warm-weather bugs and it's gotta be chilly in the caves under Gokkan so Jeramie spins him a bunch waahah! I think if Rita saw Gerojim in a white sweater they might mistake him for Moffun...

[goldkirk]

hey this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular but I’m saying it for the record here: if I tell you no, please stop messaging me about fundraisers and mutual aid.

I get enough messages that it’s impossible for me to keep up without devoting at least half an hour each day, when I’m not even on tumblr that long most days. Me having a boundary about this isn’t a moral failing, it’s a lifeboat for me on my own blog.

In my personal life I’m already advocating and donating literally as much as I can spare. This is not me not caring, it’s just me not willing to interact with that on the one place I go online to not interact with irl news and world events for the most part.

I cannot be upset all the time. I cannot be upset everywhere. I cannot use all my emotional and mental energy fielding my own upset from ongoing events. My options are to hold boundaries about this or stop coming online at all.

I’m all for sharing information and signal boosting to reasonable extents, but the scale of it this year is so large and so enduring that it is literally not possible to for me to participate on every account I have. I’ve previously shared links to Gaza eSIM donations and a major hub of verified Go Fund Mes here and elsewhere online. We, the online humans, know how to look those things up ourselves by now. There are many, many people choosing to do advocacy work, and right now, I can’t be one of them.

If you’re extremely upset when I tell you I can’t share/donate right now about a Gaza family or personal fundraiser you ask me to share here, just unfollow and block me. That’s what those buttons are for. Protect your own emotions and energy and get me off your feed instead of staying upset and continuing to engage with online people or content that upsets you.

Please don’t send repeated angry messages based on manufactured purity politics and moral outrage into my messages and inbox when I exercise the right to run my own blog.

[plushie-lovey]

Alright, here's everyone who got necklaces today! Individual pics:

Also special shout-out to Cabbage, my small bulbasaur plush. His firm bulb was perfect to use for stretching out and shaping the string for each necklace to make them more elastic and more natural fitting

[the-somwthing]

Thinking of making one of those life series askblogs with all the dead characters in some form of afterlife. They’re really fun and things like that have been in my head since Last Life started so if anyone’s gonna jump on that you know it’s me (especially since I’ve run 3… successful enough ask series in the past).

[sofastuffing]

i have a headache

[toytulini]

if you draw enough monster ocs, when you go back to drawing a human character, it feels like "sameface syndrome" everytime, by virtue of their face being. human.

[immamapletreekid]

i need an entire movie or even better an entire season of just the fukurodani vs mujinazaka match

[iiboronii]

i think that i might've posted about it before but i <3 all the little -ler blogs on here. i'm being so fr. nothing clears my skin more than seeing a -ler blog answering questions. i love you guys please keep making silly little -lers.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

this is my little girl 💖

she’s running low on time with us, and my dad has been saying things along the lines of ‘this is why I don’t like pets’, because he finds the grieving process so hard.

I don’t fault him for that, he just feels loss deeply and deals with it differently.

sometimes I even find myself falling briefly into the same thinking. ‘what if making a different choice all those years ago saved me and my family from this grief and this pain?’

but I also know there’s no way I would make a different decision. no amount of grief could outweigh the joy she’s brought us over these last fifteen years. the laughter, the comfort, the connection.

I think about hikes with my dad when she was tiny and able bodied and would race up ahead of us on the trails and then race back to check on us. I think about the first time she saw snow and she instantly turned into a tiny fluffy bunny rabbit, hopping through drifts that were ankle deep for us but nearly buried her, and the matted snowballs she came away with, looking like a tiny curly haired yeti.

I think of her interrupting GrammE and John’s wedding along with Sagie, confusion turning into laughter as they sped after each other across the backyard ceremony. I think of my mom, lonely on the island and isolated during covid, telling me that Ginger was her saving grace.

and these don’t even scratch the surface. fifteen years of love she’s given us.

so yeah. losing her is going to damn near break me and I know that. but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

[nomairuins]

i just fucking hate having ptsd all of it. so many stupid fucking things send me into fucking hysterics it sucks and i hate it and i dont want itttt anymore i dont want it.

[llitchilitchi]

Your watercolor piece is so BEAUTIFUL!!! its so hard to see fanart of traditional media and you absolutely *ate* with that one 🥹 the colors are so delicate and i love all the white space you left in between

aaaaa thank you!! always happy to see people be excited about traditional art :D

[treesbian]

mentally healthy person activities: start sobbing at how difficult you're finding something as simple as changing over laundry

[suntraitor]

im sorry mom and dad, i know i messed up bad

[shirogane-oushirou]

ren save me. ren. save me ren.