#i am TRYING which is better than a lot of other people (not you. they know who they are. the ghost readers)

[lion-writer]

I’ve seen a lot of headcanons and fics where Viago disapproves of Rook getting together with Lucanis. And ones that focus on how an alliance with the De Rivas benefits House Dellamorte, which is definitely true, and i fucking love them, but consider Viago probably couldn’t possibly ask for a better partner for Rook.

Though to be fair I am obsessed with Viago and his belief that he could restore the royal power of Treviso and that “He will not be satisfied until he sits upon a throne.”

While as a talon, he’s definitely more powerful than the king, and he could probably easily overthrow his father and take the throne. But that's probably not his biggest issue, because as my old history teacher used to say, “Power cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred”, so by restoring the power of the royal family, he’d be taking power away from the merchant princes and the other talons. Which, it’s probably safe to assume they wouldn't be happy about”. (Also as a side note, the quote “It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get you” is applicable here. Viago is a man planning to make A Lot of enemies)

And remember, this man is still the 5th talon, and while he’s allied with Teia, she’s also only the 7th talon. (Though they definitely should have gotten a promotion after the events of 8 little talons). So he’s not really in any position to actually make any power play, not unless he wants to piss off 6 of the other houses. 

Thankfully, depending on the choices you make, by the end of Veilguard, he’s almost certainly up there among the most powerful people in Antiva, given that he was a key player in ending the occupation of a major city by the Antaam, not to mention the killing of a Literal Evil God. The only Antivans that could be more influential than him at this moment is Teia, who he’s dating and let's be honest, will eventually marry, Rook, who’s his protege, 

Among those people, Lucanis is probably the most politically powerful, given that he’s done everything Viago has, in addition to the fact that he actually killed a god, and is now The First Talon. While I feel that he would support Viago in the bid for the throne, he’s also the only one who Viago doesn’t have any sort of formal alliance with. And considering Viago’s general distrust towards basically everyone, he wouldn’t place that much trust in the bonds of friendship, (especially if you believe that he thinks that Lucanis’s attempt at flirting was a threat).

But given the general political upheaval Antiva is probably already in right now, because It’s highly doubtful that Governor Ivenci was the only guy to make deals with the Antaam or Venatori for power, there’s no better time for Viago to make a play for power. With everything so recent it would be so easy for him to step forwards as a figure for people to rally behind, I mean he exposed corruption in the government, he freed Treviso, he trained a god killer, and he’s the son of the king. But If he waits, he kinda does risk somebody else stepping forth.

But after Ivenci’s attempt at getting rid of the crows and the whole Illario debacle, the other Talons would be very suspicious of anyone trying to take power, and while Viago is a Crow, he’s also an infamous curmudgeon who doesn’t really get along with the others. 

Luckily, Lucanis is head over heels for Rook, which cements an alliance with House Dellamorte. And well, there’s quite a historical precedent, especially in Antiva, for alliances and weddings to go hand in hand. Not to mention the message it would send to the other talons for Viago to give away Rook, his protege for whom he has already demonstrated a soft spot for, to The First Talon, arguably The Face of the Crows. In addition, a grand high profile Wedding between two heroes who just saved the world, is the perfect thing for the general public to associate Viago with after everything. 

I mean I’m pretty sure he would still grumble about it and he’d definitely let Lucanis know that if he ever dared to hurt Rook, Lucanis would wish he was still trapped in the Ossuary. But once he’s certain that they’re serious about each other, Teia and him would be the first people to start bugging them about marriage.

[longlivedelusion]

Hii, I saw you were doing requests for Marauders era things... Would you be keen to do a jegulus fic? would love to see them with a neurodivergent reader or something 💞 thank you !!! Ok if not comfortable

Thank you for your patience anon, if you're still around! Inspiration finally struck as I'm currently working through my own processes with my neurodivergent & mental health things. So I felt like what better time than now to write some fic therapy? Hope you enjoy! 🤍

The Art of Trying

Warnings: some angst and miscommunication. Good ending tho. My own personal portrayal of how neurodivergency shows up for me 🤍 but I know it's a spectrum for everyone. I'm no expert, just a human existing and trying.

James knew your routine well. He'd even adjusted some of his own so it could match up with yours well, which luckily didn't take too much effort given you were both early risers. Regulus, however, was the night owl of the three of you. He only woke up well after James and you had finished your morning tasks, and would work around the house quietly at night. But despite this, you'd all found a peaceful compromise in your daily lives so that this relationship could be at its absolute best. Thriving, he would say.

That was until Regulus got a new job that required him to be out by 8am. Which meant, a change in how you all lived and did things.

For James, the change was easy. He thrived with more people around, and waking up at the same time as his other partner felt like heaven. But for you... He knew this was a lot harder on you than you were admitting.

It started off fine, you also enjoyed the extra kisses and cuddles the first day, the second even. But James could tell that as you settled down after the excitement, the reality must have set in because you stopped making eye contact with them on the third day. Avoided their touches on the fourth.

By the end of the week, your voice turned cold.

"Can I please have some room." You mumbled out with a bit of an edge. Your body sliding carefully by Regulus's but not touching him. Reggie was making breakfast, some sort of omelette situation, but that meant there was cutting boards and cheeses and utensils all around and no space.

James was sitting at the breakfast nook with his coffee, reading over the Daily Prophet when he perked up at the tone.

"Of course darling," Regulus said, wand out immediately as he tidied up. "Apologies for that. Would you like an omelette?"

You grabbed your usual bowl, your yogurt, not even looking up to answer. "No thanks." You grabbed your things, saying a quick have a good day before you left for the bedroom and closed the door shut.

Now Regulus had been aware you were having a hard time adjusting, they'd anticipated it even. So he tried his best to accommodate your needs, but at the same time he had his routines as well. And he struggled the same, if not differently from too many changed to his own routine. James could tell the cold and distant attitude was affecting Reggie now as well, despite how patient he tried to be.

"Reggie y'alright?"

"No, James. I am not alright." Reggie sighed. "I feel like as if walking on glass, and by the time I get to work my day feels ruined. They barely looks at me, barely talks. Anything I do I feel as if it's wrong and I cannot- I don't want to shut her out. I don't want to shut down." He took a shaky breath in.

James was up in a moment, wrapping Regulus up in his arms. "I know, I know." He paused, focusing on easing his partner while he thought. "Maybe it's time we talk about it again, yeah? I know we discussed the change before, but it's obviously affecting them and you both more than you expected."

Regulus sighed as he rested his head on James' chest. "I suppose your right. I miss them, James."

James' heart cracked, "I know baby, but we can fix it yeah? This is fixable."

James felt Reggie nod on his chest. "Yeah," he mumbled.

He pulled Regulus back by his arms, "Would you rather talk to them now or after work?"

Reggie paused before letting out a breath. "Now, please."

He nodded and took Reggie's hand into his own, making their way to your bedroom as James knocked on the door. "Lovely?"

"Yeah?" He heard you mumble from within.

"Can Reggie and I come in for a moment?"

There was a long pause, an obvious tell on your end that you were aware that there would be a conversation happening. He gave you space to mentally preparing, waiting until eventually you let out a soft "Sure."

As James opened the door, they found you with your bowl empty and your tea forgotten, instead your back sat straight against your bed while you twisted your fingers in the top sheet.

"What's up?" You said in a forced nonchalant tone. He noticed your gaze focus on their interlocked hands.

"We just wanted to check in for a bit. Mind if we sit?" James said.

You nodded and the boys moved to the space across from you as an awkward silence filled the air. Your hands kept twisting at the sheets nervously until you'd notice and stop. Then just started up again.

"We've noticed you've been shutting down more lately, and we're just wanting to see how you're feeling if that's alright." James started.

Your faced dropped into a mix of guilt and sadness. "I'm... Adjusting."

"We know these things take time, of course." James placated, noticing Reggie's own guilt and frustration reflecting back in his face now. He squeezed his hand. "But you haven't really talked to us much since the change in schedules, and it feels a bit like you're shutting us out is all. We're worried."

You chewed on your lip, eyes glancing about as you thought. Not once landing on them.

"I just- I'm having uh... Hard time with. The difference." You managed out.

James nodded. "How so?"

"The sounds, the space, it's... Just different. And I feel myself getting frustrated and I don't wanna get mad at you guys because it's my brain, not you. You're not doing anything wrong. So I stay as long as I can, but it's just getting harder and I-" you choked out as you crashed your head onto our palms. "I just don't wanna take it out on you, I'm sorry. I don't know how to deal with this yet."

Reggie spoke up then, his voice calmer as his hand reached out to touch the fabric in front of you. "Darling, look at me please."

You lookes up warily as Regulus scooted closer, leaving James' side. "May I?" He asked, his palm up.

You placed your hand in his.

"It's not easy, when it feels as if our brains are working against us." Reggie started. "It's as if we are not cut out for the world and the world was not made for us. We may not be able to control how our brain interprets or how our body reacts, but we can choose and train ourselves to do the best we can. To try."

Regulus's hand reached up slowly to touch your face, giving you time to pull away if you so chose. "I want to try. I don't want my own inside rules to stop me from loving you the way that I want. The way you deserve." He paused and took a deep breath in and out. "But I also need you to trust me. To talk to me. This morning, yesterday, I-"

James put a supportive hand on Regulus's shoulder. Regulus seemed to struggle with his words, so James gladly chimed in. "We just want to support you as best as we can, but we also need to make sure we're all good too. And the only way to do that is if we talk about it. Are you okay with that lovely?"

You nodded, but kept your gaze down. "I'm sorry, I know this is a lot and I genuinely wish I knew how to deal with this better. Communicate better. I'm not... I'm not gonna be perfect at it. It may come out wrong."

Regulus tilted your now tear stained face up. "It doesn't need to be perfect. Just try, okay? And I will too. I most definitely do not say the right things always, nor do I express myself very well. Yet you've always been patient and non judgmental of it. Can you trust me to be the same?"

You held his gaze, doubt blooming behind your eyes. "I trust you I just-"

"Have been hurt by plebians before who couldn't deal with honest communication," Regulus finished.

You looked down at that and nodded slightly.

"We don't want you to be perfect," James supplied. "We just want you. As you are, as youve always been. That's all we want."

You met his gaze and reached your hand out to James. It's like his body could finally relax, touching you. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you guys about it. That I just shut you out."

"S'alright lovely. We get it." James said. "Maybe this is something to talk about with your therapist yeah?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I haven't seen her in a while. Probably should."

James couldn't help but smile at you, at how much he knew that phrase alone took you ages to get even comfortable saying. Going to a therapist and finding one you trusted. He couldn't help but feel himself fill with pride.

Regulus's voice suddenly broke the comfortable silence. "Well I also get it, but it wasn't alright. I've had to deal with work and life all without your cuddles and I've been quite remiss to be honest." James could swear a sort of pout apparated on Regulus's face as he spoke and then disappeared just as quickly.

James sees the slight amusement trace your lips, but you surprise him when you speak with such a deep sincerity and vulnerability instead. "I'm sorry Reggie. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Regulus nodded before you leaned in for a quick kiss. Then turned to place one on James as well.

"Well! I don't know about you but that just gave me all the energy I needed today," James said with the biggest smile on his face.

You laughed, a beautiful laugh, at the same time Reggie scoffed but didn't disagree. He even went to kiss you again.

James knew that things might come up again, that it's wasn't all solved. But you loved each other, trusted each other, and that was enough.

[inotcat04]

Hello!This is my first post,I am honestly quite nervous and I am not sure if people would like my stuff but yeah!enjoy!Also credits to Family foe by @smol-vehvi! I really recommend you go and read it,it is soooo good!you can find it on archiveofourown.com!:)I hope you like it and if you don’t well…(pls tell me how to improve):)

What I think would happen in the hospital before Stan dies+Stan dieing

M:Mabel

S:Soos

Me:Melody

D:Dipper

P:Pacifica

Children:dipper and Pacifica children

St:Stan

M:Would have monitored that screen everytime she was there taking mental notes if she finds anything unusual to ask the doctor when he/she came back and ask a lot of questions about the lung donation and other stuff considering Stan and if he is getting better.It was always the same answers everytime she asked but she never gave up hope.She would never give up for Stan.Never.

S:Soos would cry everytime he saw Stan.(we all know Stan was like a father to Soos)he spend his time making him cards and showing them to him to try and comfort him and Stan.He would also tell Stan about the sales,scamming the residents of gravity falls and telling dad jokes to him to make him feel jollery.(Soos was convinced that if he told enough jokes and make him feel better it would cure him but he knew deep in his heart it would never happen)Well at least It always made him laugh.The laugh that will only be in memories now.

Me:always accompanied Soos to visit Stan and always comforted him whenever he just couldn’t take it any more.She didn’t show it there but sliently once Soos was done crying,she would sneak into the outside bathroom and break down in there.She is too scared to tell Soos this because then he would just start freaking out.Stan never knew this but she was very appreciative that Stan accepted and let Soos be his son whether or not they were relative.She would always be grateful for that.

D:would make cards for him with Pacifica and spend a bit of his money to decorate his room to make it seem more cheerful but he knew whatever he did to try and take off the gloomy feeling,the lingering feeling of death was still there.It was there and dipper could feel it and was ignoring it praying it was just the feeling of being at a hospital.Nothing could ever take it away,everyday dipper felt the feel go closer and closer toward Stan and him and he ignores it every time the feeling got closer and closer but he knew deep down it was coming soon and fast.

P: would make cards with dipper but most of them would be her apologing about her mistakes about calling him fat and ugly and all the bad things she did to him.Pacifica feels incredibly guilty and it is eating her alive but she would rather die than tel someone either than dipper.(Dipper is the only person she can really turn to a be vulnerable with because she doesn’t like to be seen to be as weak to people,she thinks that they would use it against her.)(tbh,reasonable)she just wished to open up to people without feeling judged.

W:would try to visit Stan everyday but mostly if the time would stay inside the bathroom and when she came out she wouldn’t look at Stan she would just hold his hand while looking at the floor.(She was taught by her father that crying was for the weak so she didn’t do infront of people,until one day.)

Children:when they heard about the 1000 paper cranes wish thingy,they started to make paper cranes everywhere determine to make it to a 1000 in time before it yk happens and to passed the time Stan helped out in making a few.He knew the paper cranes thingy was a hoax but who knows,it could be real.At that Stan was holding on to anything hope and all odds are usually in your favour when you are a world class gambler but for the first time,they weren’t.One time,one of the children need to use the bathroom which Wendy was using and she wondered why aunty Wendy was always inside it so she pressed her ear against the door and she heard sobbing coming form the other side.Aunty Wendy’s sobbing she suspected.(No one expect Stan had ever heard her cry or seen her cry before that’s why she wasn’t sure)Still to this day she hasn’t told anyone that she heard her crying for the first time.(she decided to keep it a secret for Aunty Wendy)

St:Stan never told anyone but he knew why Wendy was the only one who wasn’t crying when she came to visit and felt quite sad that she still had trouble opening up.He would tell her when it was time.

D-day:Everyone was gathered in Stan’s room and everyone could feel death coming slowly into the room,the children were off to the side and still folding the paper cranes hoping they could make it to 1000 before it came.Stan was on the bed next to Wendy who was day-dreaming a way.Dipper and Pacifica were slowly making new cards to show to grunkle Stan perfectly showing their childness coming out for the only time these few days.Everyone were still impatiently waiting for the doctor to come back.Mabel was staring at the computer where Stan’s heart beat was,complating and Soos was taking a nap on the couch as Melody watched her phone.Stan that day felt incredibly tired for some reason until it hit him like a sledgehammer,he was going to die.Suddenly along with that a wave of relief washed over him along with that same feeling of tiredness but he knew he wanted to do something before he died he wanted to say something to Wendy.He took his other hand and slowly put it on the had that was holding Wendy hand startling her.”Huh?!What happen Stan?”Wendy asked trying not to look him in the eye.Stan started mumbling to Wendy.”Wendy,do you know you are family and family never judge each other.You need to know this,let it go.Goodbye.”And with that,he took his last breath and his heart never beated again no matter what the doctor tried.

Kudos to you for making it to the end it was quite a long post ,sorry if I caused you any pain or anything.Thank you reading!Also if you don’t mind,leave a comment for me so I know if people actually like this and if you didn’t like it you can also put it down so I can improve.And yes ik my writing skills are bad.Well,Byebye.

[system-of-a-feather]

Man I really like this post cause honestly, same. I don't think we were "as large or complex" (" " cause I don't really see benefit in comparing and those terms are subjective, but stating this largely because I don't think we had as much of an issue with this as it sounds like you did) but honestly after we got past like 14 parts and a certain level of recovery / discovery of subsystems and sidesystems, it really really stopped being both worth it to really even bother counting. All we can really say is that at its most it was "at least 30" and that isn't me saying +/- 5 or even 10 or even like 20, but just that trying to differentiate the Mes from the Not Mes from the Kind of Mes from the Absolutely Not Me At All is so ridiculously convoluted and likely to bring up conflict that anything more than the "somewhere between 30 and a shit ton" is too much work.

Even now, our system is a system of Zero, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, or Ever Changing of "somewhere between 30 and a shit ton"; or as we'd like to say if anyone were to ask "a system of one or many depending on how you look at it" with how our plurality works now. I'm extremely happy with that answer.

On top of all that you already said, a thing that I thought about while reading this was how a lot of people - or at least I did - think fusion tends to happen after you know EVERYTHING about EVERY part and know EVERYTHING about yourself and can cohesively and perfectly blend EVERY part of EVERYTHING you know about yourself, but like... I didn't know how many parts I had when I was functionally multiple, when I was fully fused, and now, I still can't really tell you other than that we often identify as a system of one (and sometimes zero if we are being honest and coy - for a lack of better words - about it; I could go on a long tangent about that, which if anyones interested, I can, but on my own post XD)

Honestly, even after fusion I was / am still finding parts and learning about them and exploring them. That isn't to say they are split or not fused into me, because they absolutely are - but that I was simply not aware or connected with those parts as they preferred to remain quiet and unacknowledged most of the time we were individual and its only now, when I can fully leverage the rest of the system, do I find myself safe and comfortable and stable enough to actually hold space to express and be those parts.

Tangential point to your post that I was thinking of and wanted to add was just that like... in regards to splitting, fusion, headcounts and fusion and all that; learning about yourself is an ongoing process that doesn't begin or stop with being plural or fusing. The way and nature of how you learn about yourself may change depending on if you are plural, singular, or fused and what not, but learning about yourself is a universal experience and its absolutely normal and absolutely human to not know everything about yourself. Even the most stable most introspective and oldest person in the world has things to learn about themselves and I just kinda wanted to throw that out there to the world.

Anyways, per usual, great post ^^

How Many Was I, Anyway?

Some reflections on the system I used to be.

To this day, I don't know how many selves I was. I don't know how many parts, how many "not-me"s, existed in my system. I never will.

We never got an exact count.

And... that's for the best.

My system was very, very polyfragmented and complex. A lot of therapists, including dissociative specialists, dropped me because of it. A member of the ISSTD even retired after working with me for a few weeks. My system was always in conflict with itself and my parts were always fighting, a lot of us resented each other.

It was really overwhelming.

Trying to get any kind of sense of how many parts of me there were was an impossible task. And one that proved to be, well... counterproductive at best.

Fixating on the numbers made my system more and more distressed. It felt like we would never recover, there were too many parts, too many fragments and little pieces to pick up.

So we stopped counting.

We worked with every part as they came, worked really hard at improving our communication and self-calming skills, wrote down tons of notes about how to notice what we're feeling and what triggers symptoms and switches, read a lot of clinical books on dissociative disorders to better understand what we were dealing with and learn new skills, shared info with a lot of others with CDDs, and did a lot of mood tracking and journaling and setting reminders to help spot patterns and work around the amnesia better.

And, slowly... the dissociative barriers came down, and one by one, every part of us fused, until their fusions and all the effort and love that went into each one created me, the fused whole.

I may not know how many I was in the past, but I can comfortably say how many I am now; I am a system of two, myself and Fennel.

I've noticed in our community we tend to focus a lot on the numbers. A lot of plural servers on discord even ask anyone who joins to disclose alter/headmate counts. A lot of folks post their numbers publicly in their bios. Everybody, systems and singlets alike, all seem to want to know - How big is your system? How many of you are there?

It always made me feel very vulnerable to think about - everyone else always seemed so sure of their numbers, or at least had an estimate if not an exact count. I had a lot of internalized shame for a long time over how many parts I had and felt really overwhelmed every time I found more or split more. It also felt like something that should be more private, something I didn't really want to share with strangers.

And, well, that's perfectly alright. I may not be in that same headspace now (pun intended), but I think there should be more acceptance towards not sharing or knowing the exact number of members in a system.

However many you are, I hope you can have a good day today.

[silusvesuius]

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[nexus-nebulae]

i want to remove my new shrimp's pringle bc i wanna whack people with the Plush Tube but it's sewn on so I'd have to use my seam ripper

it won't make holes and he will still have the pringle only he can share now

[ranger-danger]

Talking about stardew valley romances is so awkward. My friends are like “oh I love [every single guy, and Haley, but Alex]” and I have to go “oh I like Alex and Maru the most.”

[imflyingfish]

Its weird because i dont actually have much of a desire to move to france or use french reguarly in my life but at this point ive deadicated over a year to learning it so i might as well keep going and finish

[aeide-thea]

thinking abt like. if you introduce someone to something you're into and they're like, wow, that's so awesome, you're probably tickled that they dig it and are seemingly a kindred spirit at least that far; if you then introduce them to another thing you're into and they're again like, wow, that's so awesome, you're probably still pleased but also perhaps guiltily wondering whether they know any other adjectives; and if you introduce them to a third thing and yet again they're like, wow, that's so awesome, you're probably asking yourself, was any of that affirmation actually real or is this person just so reflexively accommodating that they've been turning off whatever independent critical faculties they possess in order to play a better yes-man???

(for values of 'you' that primarily mean 'me' obviously)

[perenlop]

in my kirby verse im trying to figure out how taranzolor can work (because i cant get over ships i liked when i was 14 lmao) since in this taranza finally makes progress in moving on after the events of TKCD (which is a LARP session gone wrong here) and in that game and star allies they bond while magolor is trying to improve himself as a person and i imagine it was initially formed on a shakier foundation? bc magolor was a better person by TKCD albeit traumatized from the events of RTDL, but yknow he still was a fuckhead and liked to mess with people and a part of him did still crave to be something more and felt aimless and meaningless without something like the master crown to run after, and i think taranza would have seen sectonia parallels in that and basically just went “i can fix him”. and its like taranza trying desperately to keep his new friend/crush from destroying himself with power and greed and an outside force tearing his body apart like sectonia did (even though ironically he is also carving out his own destruction by focusing so hard on the past).

except they both need to be fixed they both need a therapist but like AFTER they get the therapist magolor learns to be satisfied with where he is and how to cope with what happened, taranza learns to move on and not punish himself constantly for what happened with sectonia and not focus so hard on the past when he has his whole life ahead of him. and they realize they still have their futures and decide... maybe they can figure it out together if they don’t have much else (at that specific point)

[todayisafridaynight]

I was the one who's struggling to going through y6 but the realization I had when I realized you're my fav MineDai author a while back made my brain blue screen heuwje

Honestly thank you for the good food in both mediums ‼️‼️

OHH YOU'VE ALSO READ MY MINEDAI FICS??? mortifying BUT i'm so glad you enjoy my stuff hi ^^ !!

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Thanks For Listening

YA contemporary

a girl who’s the stage manager in her high school theater club is tired of nobody listening to her advice, so she makes an anonymous social media account that people might actually listen to

while also dating her first girlfriend and struggling with her relationship with her best friends

ace MC

[itsalwaysdark]

the worst part is like . I know it sounds like ocd and i know a lot of ppl with ocd and i watch them talk abt their experiences and i relate a ton but then my brains like How dare you relate to them and try to compare. youre just an evil person and youre trying to pretend you have ocd . and its actually different and the fact you even thought for a second "oh thats similar to what i experience" means that you will be a bad person forever and you cant fix it and you need to go to hell. and you dont have ocd youre just actually an evil person. so i cant actually let myself think abt it being ocd basically

[nereidprinc3ss]

diva

in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)

fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL

As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 

Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”

“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 

“Whose side are you on?”

He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 

“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”

“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”

His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 

Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 

“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”

“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”

Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”

Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 

He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”

“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”

Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 

He bites his lip thoughtfully. 

“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”

“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”

He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”

“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”

“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”

You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 

“Don’t call me grouchy.”

“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 

The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 

“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”

Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”

“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 

“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”

Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”

Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”

While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 

“What’s up?”

“I wanna move to the couch.”

He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 

“What are you doing?”

Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”

“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 

“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 

He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“This is… unprofessional.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”

That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 

“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 

“Tired.”

“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”

“Well… that’s all it was.”

“Mhm.”

“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”

“Yeah, you said you were at church?” He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 

“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”

His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 

“Oh. I knew that.”

And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.

“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 

“Sleeping.”

You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 

“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”

“Like… in the mornings?”

“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”

“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”

You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 

It slowly fades, and you sigh. 

“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”

“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 

“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”

“I’d love to be a cyborg.”

“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”

“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”

“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”

He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 

“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”

���Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”

“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”

“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”

You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 

“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”

You scoff. 

“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”

“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”

“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”

You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 

“What trouble?”

“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”

You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 

“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”

The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

A moment passes. 

It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”

He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”

How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?

When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”

[productivefairy]

Your guide to REAL selfcare

If you go on any social media and type "selfcare", all you recieve is pretty girls doing extravegant skincare, dior makeup and all. But the problem is everyone does the same thing and things just cant work same for everyone. Also, It doesnt feels authentic rather it feels like consumerism. So, I am gonna tell what to do so you feel the best.

Knowing yourself:-

You can only do yourself a favour if you know yourself and the best way to do that is JOURNAL.

If you are new to it, then you can search journal prompt ideas on pinterest and make that a part of your routine. It helps so much.

Do shadow work. Go on pinterest and do the same thing.

Dont be ashamed of yourself, rather accept yourself and change for the better. When you'll journal then you will get to know tons of good and bad things about you but our brain loves to focus on negative things so u might get stuck on that.

Record your likes and dislikes. Which books you loved, which dramas you adore, which food makes you comfy and which movies you wasted your time on. Record these things, this is just so fun and helpful when you feel "bored" or sad.

Being Mindful:-

Most of the time, the problem is not that big but our thoughts just traps us and we feel that problem is bigger than it might so take a step back and try to not overthink about past or future.

I know this is easier said than done but meditating helps a lot with mindfulness.

When you watch a movie or drama or even ytube video then just do that. Dont scroll reddit reading the "discussion" thread of the episode or try to find instrumentals on spotify for reading books. Just do one thing at once.

Dont multitask. Just take a task and then focus on that. (This might not work for neurodivergent people.)

Do 5,4,3,2,1 grounding technique. Identify

5 things you can see 4 things you can feel 3 things you can hear 2 things you can smell 1 thing you can taste.

Cut negative people off

This is so hard because you feel mean for doing this but once you cutoff toxic people who just drags other people down and all they talk is negativity then your life become so much better.

Cut off all the negative content you watch and limit the time you spend on social media.

Do your future self a favour

This is truly the best selfcare.

Study hard cause' your future self will thank you for letting her be the top student

Learn some skills. Read those books. Watch that documentry. Do things that will make your future self proud.

Some selfcare ideas

Organizing and planning

excercise or take a walk.

Reading books.

Cleaning your room

Watching fun movies

Studying about yourself. Knowing what products suits your skin and your hair. What color brighten you and what makes you look dull. What haircut looks good on your face and what clothes flatters on your body.

Get your nails done.

Listen to your fav album while painting, baking, or gardening.

Do your hobby without feeling presurrized. No you dont need to read 50 books a year, chill out and enjoy while doing it.

Dairy writing. Its so fun to read what your day looked like on a random tuesday after 2-3 years.

Explore new things in your hometown. Maybe there is a new cafe that opened 2 weeks ago or there is a hiking trail you are not aware of? its always fun to do that.

[bluebellhairpin]

:/ feeling like I'm not doing enough for other fic writers, since when I read fics i reblog them but don't really add comments, but then I think back to literally a few weeks ago where I'd read fics and then do nothing at all unless I knew the author or I really had something to say about what I read. I'm slowing getting better, bc rebloging without comments is better than not reblogging at all.