#emotional vulnerability and introspection

[imreidswifey]

All Roads Lead Home -S.R Fluff-

Summary: After a year of heartbreak and silence, Dr. Spencer Reid finds himself drunk and lonely at the BAU’s Christmas party. When he accidentally gives his ex-girlfriend’s address to his cab driver, Spencer is unexpectedly reunited with the one person he’s never stopped loving.

A/n: This was made to a request by @maebee33

Warnings:

Mentions of alcohol consumption and intoxication.

Brief discussion of emotional struggles and past breakup.

Themes of vulnerability and emotional reconciliation.

Mild language and romantic tension.

———————————————————————————-

This holiday romance is filled with warmth, introspection, and tender moments, offering a heartfelt story of love and healing.

The BAU’s Christmas party was in full swing, a riot of warmth and laughter that felt like a salve after the difficult year they’d all endured. Festive lights twinkled around the bullpen, and someone—probably Garcia—had gone overboard with tinsel, draping it on everything that wasn’t moving. Mariah Carey’s Christmas anthem blared through the speakers, and the air was thick with the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and something suspiciously alcoholic.

For once, Spencer Reid wasn’t a quiet observer nursing a glass of water on the sidelines. No, tonight was different. He was participating.

It had started with one innocuous glass of eggnog. Then, Penelope Garcia had insisted he try her “extra festive” spiked version, and before long, Spencer had consumed enough holiday cheer to loosen his typically rigid demeanor. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his tie hung crooked around his neck as he gestured wildly, recounting a historical anecdote about the origins of mistletoe in Norse mythology.

“I never knew drunk Reid could be so… animated,” Emily said, leaning over to JJ with a smirk.

JJ chuckled. “This is a Christmas miracle in itself.”

Morgan clapped Spencer on the back. “You’re a lightweight, kid, but you’re a fun one. Maybe we should get you drunk more often.”

Spencer, oblivious to the teasing, grinned broadly. “You know, the probability of a white Christmas in Washington, D.C., is only 12%—but tonight? Feels like 100%!” He gestured grandly toward the window, even though no snow had fallen.

As the night wore on, the party began to wind down. Most of the team had either headed home or passed out on various couches, but Spencer remained in his spot, humming a slightly off-key rendition of “Silent Night.” His eyelids drooped, and his head bobbed forward every so often, as though gravity were slowly winning the battle.

Emily approached him with a raised eyebrow. “Reid, I think it’s time to call it a night.”

Spencer blinked up at her, his hazel eyes glassy but still bright. “You’re probably right,” he slurred. “I should… probably sleep in my own bed. Statistically better for back health. Did you know that improper sleep alignment—”

“Save it for tomorrow, genius,” she interrupted with a fond smile, helping him to his feet. “Let me get you a cab.”

The cab smelled faintly of pine-scented air freshener and wet pavement. Spencer slumped in the back seat, his head leaning against the window as the world outside blurred into streaks of twinkling Christmas lights.

“Where to, buddy?” the driver asked.

Spencer frowned, his mind foggy from the alcohol. He should have given his apartment address, but instead, his lips formed the words that had been tucked away in his heart for months: your address.

It had been nearly a year since you last saw Spencer Reid.

The breakup had been mutual—or at least, that’s what you told yourself on the nights when the loneliness felt unbearable. Loving Spencer had been easy, but being with him had been complicated. His job took him away more often than it brought him closer, and his walls, carefully constructed and unyielding, had left you feeling like an outsider in your own relationship.

You’d thought time and distance would heal you, but neither had managed to erase the ache he’d left behind.

So, when you heard a knock on your door late on Christmas Eve, you weren’t expecting him.

“Spencer?” you whispered, your heart lurching as you took in the sight before you. He stood on your doorstep, his scarf half-undone, his coat dusted with frost, and his hair a tousled mess. His hazel eyes, slightly unfocused, softened when they landed on you.

“Hi,” he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the wind. “I think… I made a mistake.”

“You think?” you echoed, crossing your arms. But despite your exasperation, you couldn’t stop yourself from stepping aside to let him in.

Spencer stumbled slightly as he walked past you, and you caught a whiff of something sweet and alcoholic. He collapsed onto your couch, his long legs sprawled out awkwardly.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, his head tilting back against the cushions. “But I couldn’t… I didn’t know where else to go.”

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his voice. “Spence,” you said softly, sitting down beside him, “you’re drunk.”

“Very drunk,” he admitted, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I missed you.”

The air seemed to shift between you, heavy with unspoken words and the ghosts of what once was.

“You can’t just show up like this,” you said, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.

“I know,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to his hands. “But it’s Christmas, and I thought… maybe… if I was lucky, you might still care.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “Of course I care, Spencer. I never stopped.”

His head snapped up at that, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. “You didn’t?”

You shook your head, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “No. But we can’t fix this in one night.”

“I don’t expect that,” he said quickly. “I just… I needed to see you. To tell you that I still—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. “That I still think about you. All the time.”

The words hung between you like a fragile ornament, threatening to shatter with the slightest touch.

“Stay,” you said finally, your voice trembling but sure. “We’ll figure this out. Tomorrow.”

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, and a small, grateful smile spread across his face. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut.

The morning brought sunlight streaming through the curtains and the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. Spencer woke slowly, his head pounding but his heart strangely light.

He found you in the kitchen, humming softly as you poured coffee into two mugs. You looked up when you heard him, offering a tentative smile.

“Good morning,” you said, sliding a mug toward him.

“Good morning,” he replied, his voice thick with sleep. “About last night…”

“Let’s talk,” you said, cutting him off gently.

And so you did. For hours, you talked about everything—your fears, your regrets, and the love that still lingered, as bright and undeniable as the Christmas lights strung around your living room.

By the time the day turned to evening, the walls between you had begun to crumble. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t be easy, but as Spencer reached out to hold your hand, you knew one thing for certain:

This Christmas, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[aventurineswife]

Could I request the Astral Express trio (you can choose Stelle or Caelus) with a reader (GN) who is also a member of the Express who is like an older sibling? Reprimanding them when they get hurt, or comforting them when they're upset?

No One is Alone

Summary: Life aboard the Astral Express isn't just about fighting enemies or exploring new worlds—it's also about looking out for each other. As the team's older sibling figure, you take it upon yourself to reprimand Dan Heng and Stelle after they return from a mission injured. Through scolding, comforting, and heartfelt conversations, you remind them that they're part of a team and don't have to face their struggles alone.

Tags: Astral Express Trio x Reader, Platonic, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Dynamics, GN!Reader, Protective!Reader, Team Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries (non-graphic), Mild guilt/self-blame themes, Emotional vulnerability and introspection.

The hum of the Astral Express filled the air, a comforting backdrop to life aboard the interstellar train. You sat in the lounge, scanning over a datapad while keeping half an ear tuned to the faint commotion from the infirmary. It was a sound you'd become all too familiar with since joining the crew.

Dan Heng and Stelle—recovering from yet another scrape they shouldn't have gotten into.

The infirmary door swished open, and March peeked out, her expression torn between amusement and sympathy. "They're ready for the scolding..." she chirped.

You sighed, setting your datapad aside. Rising to your feet, you felt the weight of your role—neither a fighter nor a strategist, but the de facto big sibling of this unconventional family.

The scene in the infirmary was almost comical. Stelle sat on one of the cots, a bandage around her upper arm, her usual unbothered expression firmly in place. Dan Heng stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, looking stoic despite the gash on his shoulder that hadn't been there when the mission started.

"Care to explain?" you began, arms crossed and gaze level.

"It was just a minor miscalculation." Dan Heng replied calmly.

"A 'minor miscalculation' doesn't leave you bleeding, Dan Heng," you said pointedly, turning to Stelle. "And you—didn't I tell you to call for backup if things went south?"

Stelle gave a sheepish shrug. "I thought we could handle it."

"You thought wrong." You sighed, your tone softening as you crossed the room. Grabbing a chair, you sat between them, your expression gentler now. "I know you're both incredibly capable. But even the best make mistakes. You're part of a team—you don't have to shoulder everything alone."

Dan Heng's gaze flickered to the floor, and Stelle's shoulders slumped slightly.

"You don’t need to push yourself to the point of breaking to prove anything," you added, standing to place a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "We're in this together. If something happened to either of you, we’d all feel it. And you’d feel the same if it were March, right?"

Both nodded, though they didn’t meet your gaze.

"Good. Now, promise me you’ll call for help next time."

"Promise." Stelle said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Dan Heng gave a slight nod, his stoic mask cracking just enough for you to catch the faintest hint of guilt.

Later, in the privacy of the archive, you found Dan Heng surrounded by stacks of books. He looked up as you entered, his expression as composed as ever.

"You didn't just come here to read, did you?" you asked, pulling up a chair.

"...No," he admitted after a moment, his voice quiet. "I thought I could avoid putting others at risk by keeping things to myself. I didn’t think about how that might affect the team."

You smiled softly, resting a hand on his. "Dan Heng, you're not a burden. You're not just running from your past anymore—you’re building a future with all of us. And we need you to trust us enough to let us help."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll try."

Later that evening, Stelle found you in the lounge, sitting with a warm drink. She plopped down beside you, her usual confidence dimmed by something you couldn’t quite place.

"You were right," she said, uncharacteristically subdued.

"About what?" you asked, setting your drink down.

"About asking for help." She stared at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I’m used to going it alone. But... it’s different with you guys. It’s like, I know you’ve got my back, and that’s scary because now I care. You know?"

You smiled, ruffling her hair like a younger sibling. "That’s not a bad thing, Stelle. Caring means you’re not just surviving anymore—you’re living."

She leaned into your side, her head on your shoulder. "Thanks, big sibling."

"Anytime," you said, wrapping an arm around her. "Just stop scaring me with the near-death experiences, okay?"

"I’ll try." she mumbled, and for now, that was enough.

(yonagi on X)

[dailydivination365]

No matter what you do, you feel the projects you've been building collapse. Regardless of the circumstances, you feel stuck. Almost like God or the universe have a vendetta against you.

Regardless, you seem full of ideas that could turn into something, but they never get past the beginning stages.

Upon further reflection, the output of work seems just too much. You can't handle it alone, and it's making progress impossible.

Fortunately, the answer is quite simple. There needs to be unification, whether that be from aspects within yourself or partnership with someone in the outside world.

This approach leads to rapid growth. Suddenly, there's a direction to follow, but it's not one that you can force.

Your favorable circumstances may lead to you being generously aided or giving generous aid to someone else. Finally, one of your projects may move forward.

However, you must sacrifice something to complete such a project and overcome the constant destruction. It may be the desire to actually complete a project.

You can be impatient in your approach. This makes progress extremely difficult because you're using too much force. A young idea cannot be subject to such force, or else it will break.

Ultimately, it's a calling to reflect on yourself. You are the reason you're not making any progress and constantly encounter disaster instead of the natural process of destruction to creation.

Look within yourself and understand your intentions. Why do you want to accomplish your goals? What makes you want to forcefully complete them so fast? These answers will lead you to a deeper understanding of yourself and finally break the cycle.

TAROT INFO:

The tower - reversed

Page of wands - reversed

8 of pentacles - reversed

2 of cups

8 of wands

6 of pentacles

The hanged man

Queen of Wands - reversed

The hermit

[sunnyanddumb98]

ODE TO SOFIA

Sofia sits to my left in the office. It is big, but we crumple. That makes us close, at least in distance.

Sofia likes horror and dresses in full black. Her favorite color is pink, she hates yellow because it’s too bright, too happy, leaves no space for much else.

I really admire her. She is an enthusiast for cooking and reading, collecting figurines, and making perfect gifts: baskets with your favorite character plushie, sewn by hand. She sends you a birthday cake to your new apartment in Japan. She is considerate and remembers everything I say.

Sofia is violent. She tells the truth. Diplomacy exhausts her; she wants more. She is angry at people she has never met. She is happy when someone expresses their rage.

When I think about her, the sound of my sister’s giggles comes to mind, in the backseat of my parents’ car, listening to Mr. Jones by Sui Generis for the first time.

She likes gore and blood, but she rejects the passive violence of societal expectations. Day to day, she fears the real horrors of self-destructive, evasive methods. She is soft and sweet.

She is critical thinking skills, getting kicked out of class for laughing way too hard. The pride of growing up when no one is watching. Learning something basic as a full-grown adult, in a quiet street on a Wednesday morning. all alone.

It is the strength you need to protect your identity. It is showing your new sneakers to everyone. Forehead kisses to say goodbye to your friends. Going shopping in pajamas for fresh morning bread. It is the wonderful thing we find in the dark, hidden away from the horrors of the light and polite.

Catching a complicit smile at a funeral. The catharsis after breaking your favorite vase. Spending your last penny on a mistake. The friendship I form with my paralysis demon. A scared kid ready to attack. A tale, a hug, a cookie, and we both say good nigth.

The moment you are forgiven after screaming. Being loved after being wrong, mistaken. The comprehension only a child has: to cry over the doomed one— the serial killer and the rapist, the goner — not for their imminent death, but for prohibiting themselves a slow day, a warm afternoon in bed, tea, toast, and a good book to read.

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

You bring good to my lonely life, honestly, It's hard for me to look into your eyes, When I say that I would be nothing without your love, I feel the rush, and it's amazing.

[thewritehaven]

"I'm an unbridled river, constantly overflowing my banks and nourishing the lives of those around me. I'm unbound by boundaries, recklessly pouring out my waters until I'm drained, never pausing to replenish myself."

— alterego🪐 {M.J.}

[antonettewrites]

Ask me why I'm holding back, go on...

I want you to feel the intensity of my emotions, yet I fear you might run away.

I want to tell you that holding you felt like second nature, and letting go was against my will.

I want to tell you how I can and I will marvel at you, and looking away feels like a mistake I never want to make.

How being in your silence, gives me peace yet it also drags me into a pit of noise.

How your very presence offers the hope I've longed for and the misery I've been trying to avoid.

You are the duality that consumes my every breath.

Living in this gray area is killing me, and I'm unsure how much longer I can hold on.

How do I go on when I don't feel you pulling back, yet I can't feel you stepping forward

[the-casbah-way]

sorry for taking ages with down then left. i have lost all confidence in my writing style and i'm trying to clutch at the remnants of it with desperate trembling hands. you know how it is

[pepperpixel]

Hello! I watched your speedpaints on repeat when I was in middle school (like 6 years ago) and sometimes still go back and watch them for the sake of nostalgia and good music. I just wanted to let you know you’ve touched my life and left a print, thank you 🤍

Thank you. So so much. For sending me this??? The me who made all those youtube videos. Doesn’t exist anymore. Life got harder. In so many new and horrible ways. And that like. Spark to create kinda died. And also I had more important shit to worry about all of a sudden. But. Knowing that it left on impact on someone enough to send me a message. Years after I’ve stopped making them tho. Idk.. that means something.. I appreciate you didn’t forget about me! (/my videos lol. I kno u don’t kno me. My vids and art feel a bit like. An extension of me tho? In a way. But I kno that it’s not a 1:1 thing. My art an videos express thoughts ideas and feelings of mine. But they are not. Me. Just lil slivers of me.. Tiny lil portions from specific moments in time.)

Sometimes it feels like those videos were just a flash in the pan. A brief moment of attention and fame I didn’t grab onto hard enough… and now the moments long gone. but. I didn’t rlly want to grab onto it, I just wanted to make fun videos. And show off my music taste lol. And express. The music videos my brain would create in my head into the real world. And then I got too busy w real life kicking my ass. (Ps. life has now stopped kicking my ass!! It’s gotten better. Just. Not the same as it was before) Maybe I’ll get back into it one day. If I have any new ideas. Once I get stable and know what I’m doing. And get like an iPad or something so I don’t have to wrangle w my laptop lol. But yeah!!! Srry.. I’m rambling a lot.. this message just made me emotional ok! I’m being openly vulnerable in turn hopefully that’s not too weird lol. I’m happy my videos had an impact on your life!! That means. A fucking ton. Like. Words cannot properly express the weird happy feeling that gives me in my heart. Thank you so much!! For real!!! Srry for getting all in depth about my life again this message just!!! Struck an introspective chord w me!!!

[planether]

hmmmm idk how to word this properly but why do people act like being apathetic should be the default for the outer and if you do show an emotion that shows something other than being deeply impacted, you get scolded? it’s okay to be vulnerable, even more so when it’s an interpersonal relationship. that makes you human and more relatable. acting like nothing hurts is worse

[eeshani]

Except you.

Sky is lit with the moon's soft glow,

And stars that twinkle in their show,

My soul longs for a tranquil night,

Yet my heart's turmoil is its own plight.

Please don't ask me to dance,

Or whisk me away in a wild romance,

For fear grips my heart, so true,

Except you, my fears subdue.

I've never been one for clarity,

Lost in my own world of obscurity.

My thoughts a maze, a winding thread,

Oh, my weary mind, lead where you're led.

Heart's out of my chest, once more,

Exposed, vulnerable, to the core.

Except you, who brings peace in the storm,

Except you, my heart's true form.

Beneath the waves or up in the sky,

I long to soar, to breathe, to fly.

Or find solace in another's embrace,

Except you, in your love's grace.

Let's not sugarcoat our parting now,

The truth, though bitter, we'll allow.

Keep it light, keep it sweet,

Except you, in my life complete.

It was good, the path we tried,

But weary feet can't always stride.

It's time to heal, to move along,

Except you, in my heart's song.

Heart's out of my chest, once more,

Pinned down, but stronger than before.

Except you, who lights my way,

Except you, in every day.

[acanthemp3]

does anyone else feel like whenever they make art out of their own experiences theyre just lying

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Could you make a fallen angel-like reader(similar to a halovian) with Aventurine, Sampo and Dan heng please?

-🩵

“You're my fallen angel in the dark”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Emotional Vulnerability, Slow Burn(?), Fluff and Angst, Gentle Romance.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma, Themes of Isolation and Loneliness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Gambling and Risk-Taking (Aventurine), Light Tension and Danger.

In the dim light of his office, you leaned back on the sleek leather couch, wings folded gently as Aventurine sat across from you, his vibrant eyes fixed on you with that familiar playful spark. The soft glow of city lights framed his figure, lending an almost ethereal hue to his features.

"So, tell me," Aventurine leaned forward, fingers steepled, "what does an angel from the heavens need in a place like this? Surely you aren’t here to save me."

A smirk tugged at your lips. "Maybe I thought you could use a little saving, Aventurine."

He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth, like a well-aged vintage. "Oh, I’m a lost cause, trust me." His tone was light, but you sensed the depth behind it—the carefully guarded wounds he hid behind his charm and wit. As you brushed your hand across the roulette detail on his coat, you noticed his breath hitch, just for a moment.

"But perhaps…you’re not," you murmured, brushing a feather along his hand, sending a ripple of warmth over his cold skin. Aventurine’s hand slipped into yours, fingers interlocking as his eyes held yours. His usually mischievous demeanor softened, vulnerability slipping through the cracks.

"Maybe," he said, his voice softer now, "just maybe. But I think if anyone could change my mind… it might be you."

In that moment, you saw through his mask, felt his hand squeeze yours just a little tighter. And for once, Aventurine felt like more than just the gambler he pretended to be.

The streets were bustling with noise and color as Sampo sauntered beside you, his bright green eyes glinting with his usual playful mischief. You cast a cautious glance his way, aware of his reputation, but something about him—perhaps that underlying sense of survival and charm—had drawn you in, despite your better judgment.

"So," he drawled, nudging you with a grin, "an angel with clipped wings, huh? Seems we’ve got something in common, don’t you think? Both of us can’t quite keep our feet out of trouble."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you noticed his hand slide a little too close to your coin pouch. “Funny you’d say that,” you replied, catching his wrist. “Though I think you’re more of the rogue variety than the fallen kind.”

“Guilty as charged.” He shrugged with a shameless grin, freeing his hand but remaining close, as though walking away was the last thing on his mind.

Curiosity sparked within you as you leaned closer, wings shifting around you both like a cloak. “What if I told you I could offer you something better than coins or trinkets?”

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what’s that, my angel?”

You took his hand, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your fingers. “Trust, Sampo. Someone who sees through the act.”

For the first time, his laughter faltered, and he stared at you with an expression you’d never seen before—a mix of awe and hesitation. “Careful now, sweetheart,” he whispered, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You might just get more than you bargained for.”

It was a quiet night on the Astral Express. The stars glowed softly outside the window as you stood beside Dan Heng, wings folded behind you, as silent as the mystery that shrouded him. He glanced over, his blue eyes momentarily meeting yours before he returned his gaze to the starry void.

"I’m not quite sure why you’re here," he murmured, his voice low and reflective. "A place like this… doesn’t seem suited for a celestial being like you."

A soft smile touched your lips as you moved closer, reaching out to brush his hand with yours, gentle and cautious. “Fallen, not celestial,” you corrected. “I lost my way a long time ago.”

He looked at you, and in his gaze, you saw the reflection of his own scars, the history he carried but rarely shared. “And yet, you don’t seem lost,” he said. “You have… a presence.”

You chuckled softly, wings shifting. “I think we have more in common than you realize, Dan Heng. We’re both haunted by what we’ve lost, both searching for something we can’t quite name.”

Dan Heng’s gaze softened, and he allowed himself the smallest, rarest of smiles. “Maybe. But you… have given me something I didn’t think I’d find again.”

You met his gaze, feeling a warmth bloom between you as he reached out, his hand resting against your shoulder—a silent promise, a shared understanding. And there, under the glow of the stars, you knew that neither of you were as alone as you once thought.

[throughquieteyes]

The Beauty of Imperfection in Human Connection

If there’s one thing I’ve learned while reflecting on life, it’s that human relationships are as paradoxical as we are. They’re beautifully messy, full of misunderstandings, quiet moments of repair, and the kind of growth that only happens when we face our imperfections together.

I’ve seen this in my own life. In my relationship with my fiancé, we’ve had our share of moments where we didn’t see eye to eye. But those challenges have taught us to listen more deeply, to find empathy even when it’s hard, and to lean into the messy work of loving each other fully. It’s not the perfect moments that have shaped us—it’s the imperfect ones that have taught us who we are.

This is true beyond romantic relationships. Think about friendships, family relationships, and even how we relate to ourselves. We stumble, we hurt one another, and we make mistakes. And yet, we also show up, forgive, and grow. It’s these very contradictions that make our connections so deeply human.

When I think about how this fits into everything else I’ve shared on this blog—the paradox of human nature, the heartbreak of loss, the joy of planning a wedding—I realize it all comes back to the same thing: our ability to navigate life’s contradictions. We’re flawed, yet we create beauty. We lose, but we still love. We aren’t perfect, and yet we find joy in connection.

So here’s to the messy, imperfect relationships that fill our lives. They may not always be easy, but they teach us what it means to truly love and be loved.

What do you think?

What’s one moment in a relationship—romantic, platonic, or family—where imperfection led to something unexpectedly beautiful? Maybe it was a funny misunderstanding that brought laughter or a mistake that taught you something meaningful. I’d love to hear your stories or reflections! Feel free to share the little moments that make connection so deeply human.

[wickedzeevyln]

POV

It’s just assumption to read what’s on your thoughts. I’m not a citizen of your mind, though the city is lit bright, I can’t read emotions in your eyes without adding verbs like ‘seem’ or ‘appear’, as in, love seems to be in your eyes. But I can always open up all of me with an intent to understand. Maybe have a feel for hints? Maybe you could pour your heart into my ears so it can course…

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I'm falling for You, Don't make me go Blue.