#take 65 minutes and listen to this

[wyrdoh]

one of the things i can't stand is people being mean to old ladies. especially esl old ladies. like please. be patient with them. like for real

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

masterlist

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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[benevolentbones]

coffee | spencer reid x reader

warnings: ??mild flirting, spencer checking you out?? gender neutral

word count: 0.7ish

summary: you meet spencer for the first time while he gets his morning coffee.

!!this is my first time writing for this fandom,, and first time writing in over a year so i may be rusty!!

it was a known fact that spencer reid was practically fuelled by coffee, and this morning was no exception. spencer had been up all night reading case files and finishing off his paperwork from the last case, which usually didn’t take the man too long, but his mind had been elsewhere for the last few days.

it had come to his attention, when the team returned from their last case, that the bau had hired a new receptionist. and usually he wasn’t too fussed about newcomers that weren’t directly associated with his team, but something about you was different.

he first noticed you standing in the kitchenette of the bullpen, with penelope. the blonde woman had you engrossed in one of her rambles about one of the fantasy games she often played in her downtime.

you stood beside her, a blue mug that read ‘worlds best dad’ glued in your grasp as you listened intently. you nodded along to everything garcia was saying, wisps of your neat hair falling out of place, which you quickly tucked behind your ears.

spencer noticed you wore a dark button up, which you had rolled up to your elbows. along with a nice fitting pair of dress pants, his hazel eyes lingering on the curve of your hips a little longer than intended.

he blinked himself out of his trance, ambling over to the coffee maker which conveniently was right beside you.

“-and when you level up, you get the ability to enchant your armour, and y’know your girl had to get some-“ garcia continued to rant as spencer picked up a cup and turned the machine on.

“hey reid have you met our newest member?” penelope beamed, turning to face the brunette who began to pour the worlds worst filter coffee into his cup.

his hazel eyes darted up from what he was doing and met yours. you had turned now fully to face him, garcia standing to your left.

“hi” you smiled sweetly at him, brushing your thumbs over the ceramic of your cup.

spencer felt his face flush warm for a second, the man spluttered out a ‘nice to meet you’ before turning his attention back to his coffee.

penelope hummed, knowing that was probably the best introduction he was going to get.

“well i’ve got to get back- lots of hacking to do.” garcia shot you a smile and darted off in the direction of her office.

you couldn’t help but stare as you watched the man begin to pour a mountain of sugar into his cup, every time you thought he would stop he tilted the container more, to further dump the sweet substance into his beverage.

before you could even think, words had slipped past your lips. “do you want some coffee with your sugar, dr.reid?”

you immediately pursed your lips shut, afraid that maybe joking around was too forward after having only met the man a minute prior.

you noticed a small smile grace his features as he stopped pouring the sugar, reaching for a spoon to stir it together.

“actually it’s not uncommon for people to take their coffee this way, around 65% of the US add sugar and/or cream to their coffee.” he mumbled out, taking a sip and making eye contact with you.

“y’know what, i won’t argue with that.” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

spencer eyed your form, his cheeks growing warm.

“let me guess…you take yours black?” he mused, noting little details about how you crossed your legs when you stood or how you chewed on your lower lip after saying something.

you trailed your gaze along his suit clad form, his striped shirt was fully buttoned with a black tie to compliment it. he wore a dark grey pair of chinos, standing with one hand in the left pocket as he took another sip from his cup, his focus never leaving you, hazel eyes studying you through thick rimmed glasses.

“you guessed right dr.reid, i’m already sweet enough.” you gave him a small smile before walking back to your desk.

[g4yforethan]

love language

pairing: ethan landry x male!reader

summary: ethan and reader have fun on halloween night !

warnings: cursing, smut, top!ethan, bottom!reader

a/n: hii this is from a request so i tried my best ! also im so excited for halloween this year for some reason

it was halloween night and tara and anika had invited you to a halloween party and since you had no other plans going on that night, you figured why not? your boyfriend ethan landry was also going and you didn't want to feel left out or let him go by himself so you went with him. you got there and talked with tara and mindy and soon the three of you started taking shots together. after 2 shots, you started to feel a little sick and went over to ethan. “hey baby whats wrong?” you tell him how you feel and he walks you out. “hey how about we just go home instead?” “yeah if that’s okay with you ethan.” “of course baby let’s go.”

you two walk back to your apartment which helped you get rid of the annoying nausea you felt. once you came back, the two of you walked to your bed and sat down. “thanks for waking back with me.” “oh come on i wasn’t gonna leave you there was i?” you laughed and gave him a kiss on the lips. you realized it was just the two of you alone since you shared the apartment with chad as well. you looked at ethan who gave you the same look. you two kiss again and more and more. he picked you up and had you on his lap. you kiss his neck and he starts to take your shirt off.

“fuck you’re so beautiful.” he whispers in your ear which turns you on even more. you take his shirt off and start to leave hickies all over his neck and chest. he rolls his eyes back and grabs onto your hair. “ethan i want you inside of me.” his face turns red but he listens and lays you on your stomach. he licks yours hole for several minutes before teasing you with his tip. he goes in slowly grabbing you waist and massaging your back. “fuck ethan.” “you like that baby boy?” “yes baby.” each stroke he gave became more intense for you. he goes even faster as you start to arch your back. your roll your eyes back and moan in pleasure which turned ethan on even more. ethan turns you on your back and puts his dick back inside. he grabs your neck and kisses you while he goes faster and faster.

"i wanna ride your dick." you tell ethan as he positions himself on his back. you start to ride which sends an overload of pleasure into your body. you feel ethan's heavy breathing and sweat come onto you as you keep riding. he whimpers and moans in your ear. "fuck y/n i'm close." "cum inside of me baby." he moans as he fills your body with his cum. he kisses your neck as you cum not too long after. you kiss him and lay on his chest while he starts to play with your hair. "fuck y/n i guess those 2 shot really brought out something in you huh?" you laugh and playfully hit him. "whatever ethan. guess i was your treat with no tricks." ethan laughs and slightly cringes at your joke and gives you another kiss on your head.

a knock on the door interrupts you and ethan's pillow talk."hey ethan, y/n, i'm back! are you guys in here?" it was chad who had come back from the halloween party."uhh yeah we were just watching a movie together nothing much." chad seemed intrigued. "oo which movie? chucky? friday the 13th?""yeah one of those listen just give us 5 minutes." he was confused but obliged. you rush to put your clothes back on and leave the room. you run into chad who notices your messy hair. "did you just take a shower or is that sweat?" "uhh it's just sweat it's really hot in here." the temperature read 65 degrees. ethan comes out and asks chad if he could grab something from the lobby. chad leaves and a big sigh of relief rushes through you and ethan's body. the two of you kiss and laugh at the whole thing.

[tommydarlings]

Sunday kind of love | c.s

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 0.8k

summary: some homemade soup, a loving atmosphere and a handsome spanish formula one driver in nothing more than a towel around his waist who just loves to kiss your skin — your perfect kind of sunday night.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

The smell of the fresh soup with vegetable broth and noodles filled the air, the big light was obviously turned off, it’s actually never turned on — the window was tilted and the sound of the shower that your man was taking was calmly running in the background.

One of the days you enjoyed the most.

Peaceful and quiet, exactly how you liked to spend your day with carlos.

You hummed the melody of a song yoi just recently listened to as your boyfriend stepped out of the shower, big white and expansive towel wrapped around his waist, his abs still glistening from the water that glided along his muscly body just a few minutes ago.

You gulped at the sight, even though it was probably your hundredth time seeing him like this but what can you say? You will never get used to that stunning sight.

“Am I smelling that delicious vegetable soup here?“ he smiled softly at you as he walked towards you, his walk confident — as always.

With a grin you nodded, your eyes staying on his chest and abs for a few seconds longer than usual, and he immediately caught onto that.

“Are you?“ you joked as you eyes drifted to his face, “yes you are,“ you giggled as he noticed how he playfully raised his brows.

He licked his lips, “don’t let my face distract you from my body now, cariño,“ carlos said in a teasing tone, knowing exactly where you put your eyes just a few seconds ago.

You rolled your eyes, “everything just looks so good I can’t resist it, okay?!“ you went back to stirring your pot, a tiny smirk still on your lips.

The Williams driver chuckled and continued walking closer to you until he put his palms on either side of your hips onto the countertop, caging you between them but you obviously didn’t mind, you never did.

As soon as he left a featherlight kiss on the skin of your shoulder, you were forced to bite your lip, too afraid that you’d let a little pathetic sound slip past them.

He smiled against your skin, “I maybe cant see you but I know that you’re biting your lip right now to keep quiet so stop that for me, yeah?“

He was too good, way too good.

You stopped nibbling on your bottom lip while he still continued pressing gently kissed on each of your shoulders, switching between them before he slowly pecked your neck, making you release a quiet gasp.

Your boyfriend raised his hand and put it on top of yours and stirred the soup with you, “we dont want it to burn, do we?“ he whispered into your ear from behind.

You grinned a bit and shook your head as you went back to stirring with his help.

“Exactly,“ he placed a kiss on your cheek, making you giggle since his stubble tickled you a bit.

“What?“ he giggled as well, “is it my beard?“

You nodded, still smiling widely, “yes, it tickles a bit,“ you mumbled.

His thumbs lightly caressed the sides of your body as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck again, “sorry,“ he whispered before he kissed your neck a couple of times.

In the meanwhile, he pressed his hips into your backside, the soft towel rubbing against your bum as he ran his lips over your skin and back to your shoulder blades again.

“The soup is done, you know?“ you told him in a quiet tone, his hips pressing you further into edge of the countertop.

He hummed quietly, “yeah?“ he ran his face along the back of your head, his big nose touching your hair.

You nodded, gasping as you felt his entire presence so close to you, “yeah…“ you replied.

Carlos grinned like a teenage boy, he was well aware of the effect he currently had on you.

“Let’s sit down and eat together, yeah?“ your boyfriend asked quietly into your hair before he kissed the top of your head, then he briefly squeezed your hip before he grabbed two bowl and put some soup in them.

The two of you sat down on the dinner table and enjoyed the meal together, glancing at each other there and then.

After you two were done, carlos stood up and took a hold of his and your empty bowl, his abs going right past you as he walked over to the sink — pecking the top of your head again as he strode past you.

As you watched him do the dishes in nothing more than a fluffy towel around his waist, you smiled from ear to ear.

“Te quiero,“ I love you, you told him quietly as you watched him with a loving spark in your eyes.

He turned his head to look at you, immediately catching that specific sparkle in your eyes, also grinning from ear to ear now,

“Yo también te quiero, cariño,“ I love you too, darling, carlos mumbled in his sexy Spanish accent, making your smile turn into a smirk.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The idea that future Leo and mc having bouts of "was that past Leo just now??? Smh" is SO funny to me like

Imagine past Leo keeps coming back to take a look at his future, and it's starting to piss Leo off like ??? Man he just wants to cuddle with his wife after work, and now there's this little shit coming in to steal his cuddles AND he's treating his wife semi poorly??? (Future Leo can't fathom that it's his own damn self that's the problem LMFAO)

Future Leo starts to leave notes and passive aggressive comments on his body so past Leo can find it. Past Leo doesn't know what's going on but every time he goes to the future he keeps finding angrier and angrier notes (first it's "treat her well, you're a guest here" and "you love her more than life itself even if you don't know it yet" but after a few rounds he gets impatient and starts going nuclear "listen you little shit you make my wife uncomfortable again I'll remember this shit and shave your head in the past" "get the fuck out and leave me alone I'm gonna make you binge eat and make you fat")

Imagine future Leo being so pissed off about the "stolen" time that he insists that he gets EXTRA loving from his wife for it (it's really not that bad, he's just being dramatic again) and whoops it looks like all those extra rounds have gotten his darling wife pregnant 🥴🥴🥴

if past Leo manages to come back in the middle of a sesh with a very obviously pregnant mc he might just have a heart attack then and there pp

The diabolical streamer might be peeking into the future too much

Leo has gotten used to popping to the future for a little while. Leo is neither used to the interruptions to his life and very upset about it

Wc: 1,6K

Notes: nah but he would actually die jsjsjsj he knew he was married to her but not that he was that down bad! This was so fun to write

Cw: she/her for the reader, implications of sex and Leo comes when his future version has sex with his wife

Leo recognizes he can be hard to get along with most of the time, he is snarky, snoops around for secrets and extorts people with them, can be cruel, among many other things. But he never expected to say that he got himself fed up with his existence.

He seems to be getting on his last nerve, Leo notes at the greenish bruises on his midriff while changing clothes after bathing. He once again visited the birdpond even if his trip was a rather short one as Sho pulled him away when he (or rather whatever consciousness from his future self he had in his body) started hitting and scratching himself on the stomach.

Sitting down on his bed, he starts spending cream on the small wounds, he would hate to have any sort of scar.

“And you want to go back tomorrow after that?” Sho asks besides him, watching the reddish and purple splotches and thin red lines across his abdomen.

“Well, yeah, I want to see what number will be drawn on the influencer gala” he says, as nonchalant as ever, as if whatever damage he did to himself was nothing more than a light annoyance.

“You are crazy, dude”

“Hush, I'm learning a TikTok dance”

And as he said, that night as soon as Alan turned off his light they both sneaked off to the hedge maze centered around the birdpond.

“So, you remember what we are doing?”

“10 minutes in and I take you off. If you start hitting yourself I'm just allowed to hold you but not lift you”

“Good! If I see one more bruise and it will be all your fault, m'kay?”

“Hey, no, wait-!” But before he is able to complain he already dipped his head underwater.

Already used to the ache inside his lungs and the feeling of drowning, it doesn't take him much longer to settle on the current situation.

There is a colorful movie playing on the 65 inches mounted tv and he feels a comfortable weight on his lap. When he looks down he sees your head on his chest and legs thrown over his own, most of the weight must be from the sleeping toddler on your legs. A string of spit threatening to spill on his leg makes Leo recoil away violently, almost making you fall off the sofa and your daughter too.

Now awake and in a bad mood Emmy pouts and kicks her little legs “Daddy!” she waddles towards him so he would pick her up and lull her to sleep as always.

With the same coldness as you remember his first year version having, he spits venom at the, honestly quite messy, child “Don't even touch me, you have spit and sugar all over yourself, you are going to mess my clothes” and he barricades himself inside the bathroom, leaving you to calm down an upset toddler.

Hidden away inside the bathroom, he sits down on the bathtub rim and swipes around his phone, looking at his TikTok account and looking for videos that are around 10 years old. For once he curses being so active in social media as when he reaches his current year Sho was pulling him up to the past.

“So? Anything good?”

“Hardly anything and her kid almost slobbers all over me”

“I think that is also your child, dude”

‘stupid child’ Adult Leo growls mentally. Each and every time his past himself would rudely interrupt in his few soft domestic hours he has with his family and treat them like shit his head would be splitting down the middle with an unbearable headache, no matter what he took or if he drank water he would have to sit down for hours until it passed. Luckily his wife and daughter would comfort him while they watched tv with very low volume.

Wobbling out of the bathroom and aiming for the modular sofa he whines for any scrap of affection he believes he is entitled to “LI, Emmy, let's watch a movie, daddy doesn't feel good”

Plopping down on ‘his’ side of the sofa he just noticed Emmy was too busy getting calmed down to watch a movie with her dad.

“What happened, Emmy? Want to tell me while we watch Cinderella?” and even after attempting to bribe her with her favorite movie she just looks the other way with a pout before stomping towards her room, slamming the door.

Noticing your husband was back you smile, a part in relief of not having to take care of your toddler alone and another part of mocking delight “Emilia is very angry at you because your past self told her you weren't going to carry her because she was dirty and was going to mess your clothes”

Mortified, Leo grasps his forehead, he doesn't remember himself as one to be that mean to kids. When he feels you sit next to him and hug his shoulder he starts acting for affection and attention.

“That stupid brat is going to make my baby hate me”

“honey, that brat is you”

The attempt at reasoning with him is met with more whining. After years of marriage he learned that there wasn't anything he couldn't get from you with enough whining “my head hurts” he digs himself a space on your clavicle “I just want to sit down and enjoy myself with my family but now I can't even do that”

Combing some fly away hairs and planting a kiss on his helix honeyed words lure him closer “Emmy might not want to be close to you now but why don't we have some personal time together”

And with a devilish smile his hands dip down your back and butt while his mouth attached itself to whatever patch of skin he can get close to.

Family vlogs are something Leo found himself doing weekly, complying with his fans' demands. There is rarely anything interesting, sometimes doctor's visits, minor sickness, projects he had to say nothing about yet still hype, that sort of day to day things.

After going over a possible trip to Spain for a gaming convention he was invited to, Leo looks over the most frequent questions of the last vlog. He is so thankful that he coded a bot to group comments with the same or similar key words.

“So, for the last question… YN they are asking if you were hungry when we filmed the last video, they say you were scrolling UberEATS for a while”

You shrug while playing with your phone, not paying him much mind “well, when I was pregnant with Emmy I was pretty hungry, it is normal that I would be now too”

It is hardly one second before his usual fake smile dropped, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. In an attempt to turn off the video his hands fiddle with the button but it takes a few extra seconds than he expected. It is going to look awkward when he uploads it but why act as if he has ever cared about it and more so especially now?

The last few seconds it's possible to hear an ‘are you serious?’

His fans did go wild in the comment section after he posted

Leo_simp76: damn, he is locked down for real, let's cry simps

User_8274849: He already had a kid and is married, did you truly think he was free???

Leo_simp76: I would delulu into thinking he got babytrapped and was going to leave her!!

T.B.d.e: wasn't his child's first birthday one week ago?? How did she let him hit it?

Leo_simp76: I would let him as soon as I could stand. If anything it's weird it took that long!!

The last day before he took a break from looking into the future,as soon as he dips his head down to the water the usual annoyance in his lungs is overpowered by a different kind of ache caused by breathlessness like in Gym class.

“Leo, stop teasing~” a breathy moan begs from beneath him. Looking down he finds his hand snug against the column of your neck, lips connected to your skin just below your collarbone.

You were splayed under him, legs hugging his hips and one arm drawing figures on his biceps. Bodies close enough to notice your swollen stomach against his abdomen. Thankfully enough you had your eyes closed shut and couldn't notice the switch.

He on a technical level guessed this future version of himself and you fucked (as awkward as that image is for him) there was Emilia, or Emmy, that looked very much like him and you; when he snooped around he found condoms and there were multiple pregnancy tests in the en suite bathroom. But he had never barged in during the act.

Such a great fucking time he gets in, balls deep inside the nerd and an orgasm threatening to wreck him. Or so he would think if a wave of dopamine didn't swallow him whole in the same breath.

Quickly he leaves the water, if Sho had to say he almost looked horrified, eyes wide, breathing quickly, face red and… oh, he was just suddenly horny. Any teasing he might have wanted to do is cut short with Leo's nasty side eye but no explanations.

On the other side of the timeline there is a married couple with a sulking husband.

“Are you feeling alright?” opening your eyes you manage to see a very clearly upset Leo resting his forehead against your sternum and a hand on your breast.

“I can't even have sex with my wife without that brat ruining it”

“What? He was here just now?!”

“Once again, I didn't get to enjoy it”

“Wait a second! I'm still sensitive! ~~!”

[fuck-customers]

I do this shit every day. I know what I am doing and I have a specific reason for doing things the way I do. Shut the fuck up, listen to my instructions and follow them, and we will be done with this transaction before you even know it.

The registers at my store suck ass. Despite the fact that they're "new" (we got new registers + a new system 3 years ago) they're worse than the old ones in nearly every way, specifically how slow they are.

If I scan an item, it will take around 5-10 seconds for it to appear on the screen. It WILL eventually appear, just slowly. So to get around this and save time, I scan each item immediately after each other and keep count of how many items there are in my head. I stall for time for the items to load by bagging the items and usually by the time I'm done bagging, everything has loaded. It's annoying, but this is the only thing that works. I can and have reset the register hundreds of times and it hardly makes a difference.

Every. Fucking. Day. I either have some moron think that their whole total for all 35 items they have is $2 because only one of their items has loaded at the moment. Or I have some bitch who insists on handing me each individual item one by one and then complaining about how long it is taking. It is YOUR FAULT! I have a system for making this go very quickly! I explained this to you! I told you to just set all your fucking stupid ass shit on the counter and let me do my thing and you will be out of my face so fucking quick! YOU are the cause of your own problems! I actually have legitimate reasons for giving the instructions that I give. I'm not asking you to do this to be difficult or out of personal preference. This makes it easier on both of us. I'm the one that works here. I know what I'm doing. Not you.

I hate new registers slower than the old ones. They did that to be in 1996 I liked the old ones I could go as fast as I wanted and the damn thing kept up. I didn't care they were from 1978 they were easy to repair and they were FAST. They got new ones with bigger display wider receipts that had more info on them,,, but that damn small ass scan buffer. It cut my IPM in half. I used to zip through cat food in seconds. After it would hit the limit of the buffer and start loudly BEEPING!! I would have to stop count how many were on the receipt and pull 10 to 15 cans out of the bag and keep going. I went from 65-70 per minute to 34. It sucked. Of course that was back when I actually gave a damn. Now I only hit the buffer during hurricane rushes.

-Rodney

[voidarchivefiles]

Lucid dreaming for the void state

So this post is inspired by this success story which mentioned using lucid dream binaural beats to induce a lucid dream and then enter the void through there. Shout out to @gorgeouslypink for introducing lucid dreaming as a method to enter the void and popularising it with her Lucid dreaming void post and FILD Challenge! I went through some success stories and tagged the ones that entered via lucid dreams and there's currently 9 with 2 more in the queue.

Anyway, that success story never linked what they used so I was curious and searched on youtube and found this, a 1.5hr lucid dreaming induction track, released 11 years ago and has 3.6m views. If you read the comments, there's many people who successfully had lucid dreams from it! Basically you wear headphones and listen to the track as you fall asleep and it will hopefully trigger a lucid dream while you're sleeping.

From the video description:

Listen to this audio AS YOU FALL ASLEEP, and after you have developed the habit of performing constant 'reality checks'. Remember, this is a tool, and not a magic formula. ;) Headphones required for binaural beats to work This lucid dreaming induction is a variation of the original i-dreamer. Improvements: a more gradual descending-step-sequence (alpha to delta) to induce sleep. Quieter and more frequent affirmations. Refined gamma peaks (40hz). The first 65 minutes will entrain you to a deep delta sleep using a descending binaural frequency + various water sfx. The remainder consists of a low-theta wave to help transit your mind into REM sleep. During this segment I have recorded various affirmations to help trigger a lucid state: "You are dreaming" "Do a reality check" "This is a dream" "You are taking control of your dream" Within the theta-wave are various 4-5 second long peaks peak at 40 Hz. ("...an EEG machine recorded frequencies in the 40 Hz range in lucid dreamers enjoying a bit of conscious REM...")

The channel has a playlist of lucid dream induction audios but the one I linked above is the most popular one. They seem to be different though so it's good to have options if you want to experiment a bit.

Of course there's numerous ways to induce lucid dreaming and this is just one possible way. I recommend checking out @charmedreincarnation and @themanifestingbrat's lucid dreaming guide if you want to learn more, there are a few successful anons who used her guide!

Just sharing this in case it helps someone!

[devildomwriter]

First Things They Say to MC

Lucifer

“I will explain everything to you.” — (1-1)

Mammon

“Huh? Who the hell are ya? You ain’t Lucifer.” Or “Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?” — (1-1)

Leviathan

“Do you realize what just happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me. …Or maybe I should say he used you as a sacrifice. I’ll admit that mammon is one of the scummiest scumbags you’ll ever meet…a total lowlife. But still, that was pretty dumb of you letting him use you like that.” *sigh* “This is EXACTLY why humans are— …Wait a second. Humans…yes, that’s it… Suddenly, I’ve got an idea. Listen, are you free right now? Of course you are. You’ve gotta be, right? You know what? Never mind. Either way, you’re coming with me.” — (1-10)

Satan

“Aha. So I’m that one, am I? Nice to meet you MC. I am Satan, the avatar of wrath.” — (1-2)

Asmodeus

“That’s right! It pretty much sums up what I’m about! Including my power. Let’s give a little demonstration! MC, could you gaze into my eyes for a moment? It’s okay, I don’t hurt you. Come on don’t be shy… …Wait a minute. There’s something about you…hmm…” — (1-2)

Beelzebub

“I’m Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.” — (1-2)

Belphegor

“…el… …elp… Help… Someone help me… Help… ….Over here! — (2-15)

Solomon

“Hey, you there. That’s right, I’m talking to you, the human with that frightened, tormented look on your face that demons love so much. You’re practically screaming, ‘Come and eat me! I’m scrumptious!’ Your name’s MC, isn’t it?” — (2-2)

Thirteen

“Ahahahaha! Ooh, that was just hilarious! You walked RIGHT into my trap! Well done, Mr. Bucket 3! WELL DONE!” or “Ugh, what was THAT?! Honestly, I don’t believe it! Mr. Bucket Number 3 was supposed to land on your HEAD not the floor!” — (65-3)

Simeon

“Well, hello, MC. I’ve heard a lot of rumors!” — (2-13)

Luke

“Never trust…mmrmhrm.” — (2-15)

Raphael

“…I have to say, I take that as an insult. You think I’m Michael? I do not appreciate being mistaken for that socially inept weirdo. My name is Raphael. Try to remember that in the future.” or “Correct.” or “…Wrong. If you don’t know, say so. Don’t just guess at random. My name is Raphael.”

Michael

“Hello there, MC.” *sigh*… “Here I am, finally getting to talk to you, and it had to be in a situation like this… Can you hear me, MC?” — (38-17)

Little D. No. 2

“Hello there, I’m Little D. No. 2! Ah, but call me Number Two if you would, mmkay?” — (7-10)

Mephistopheles

“Don’t touch that! …So, it’s you. It’s bad form to pick up someone else’s documents and start looking through them, you know? Don’t they teach you that in the human world?” — (63-1)

Barbatos

“…Ah yes, pardon me. I suppose we haven’t met before, have we? My name is Barbatos. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I have the honor of serving as steward to Lord Diavolo. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” — (2-13)

Diavolo

“Welcome to the devildom MC. …Oh pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked, are we? Well, that’s understandable. You’ve only just arrived after all. As a human it will probably take a while for you to adjust to things here in the devildom.” — (1-1)

[angel-dustspo]

Daily check in – Day 65!!

Workouts:

walked a lot

10 minutes stress relief yoga by mrandmrsmuscle

Steps: 22 035 (fought tooth and nail to get to 20k today, it was still fun tho)

Eating:

breakfast - some cucumber, a carrot + a grilled sandwich with cheese, ham and salad!!! (one of my biggest fear foods, I'm so proud I enjoyed it!!)

lunch - another sandwich hahah it's sososo good, a carrot, a cucumber, 2 boiled eggs, a lot of plain croutons and some protein pudding

dinner - snacked on anything while baking: peanuts, blueberries, yogurt, a tangerine, coconut, a boiled egg, some croutons + had mini pancakes with banana, honey and chocolate spread (defo not low sugar but it's fine so far)

Water intake: 2 liters

Sleep: 8 hours finally!!!

Studying:

read 120 pages and finished my book!!

read like 20 more pages of a new one, I might start Crime and punishment soon tbh

Screen time: low

Self care:

I'm like a totally different person thanks to youtube recovery videos, I'm taking so much better care of myself and my mind is finally at peace

I might have achieved (today at least) food freedom and I swear I've never felt so happy and guilt-free and satisfied with my meals and life and everything!!!

I'm so proud of myself for eating one of my biggest fear foods!! (twice actually because it was DELICIOUS.)

Took some time to not do anything, play computer games and listen to some good music🤍

Emotion log:

My relationship with food and my overall mood and sense of self are now THROUGH THE ROOF, I've never been so happy and had as much food freedom and inner peace ssjkssjks

I miss autumn... I wish it could be autumn all year round

Thoughts for tomorrow:

I'm going ice skating at sunset with a friend, can't wait!!!🧸🌅

[thejockout]

New File Time! | Team Player (BONUS RELEASE)

(LET ME STRESS that you should read this description carefully. Don't worry - this isn't taking the slot of a "standard" release because it's so, incredibly niche. But for those of you who'll like it, I think you'll really like it. I made a poll about this ages ago on Tumblr and people expressed interest in it, soooo here it is! )

Right. Moving on. This is probably the weirdest thing I've actually released - it was a commission for someone who, basically, wanted a file that would help them get some kinky enjoyment out of work + help them fit in better with their masculine coworkers. It's very much a "becoming one of The Guys at work" file basically. You'll be influenced by and attracted to your coworker's masculinity (very fitting if you're in a field with a Corporate Bro culture) and want to fit in with them, so you'll subtly change to be a better team player by matching them. Understand the title now?

However, there's also some kinky incentive to work hard, achieve your goals, and etc. There's almost an element of "dronification" as being of service to The Company brings pleasure, which can double as a means to help you feel less stressed and crappy about your workload. Instead you'll take a strange... even arousing... fulfilment from being a good Team Player and getting your job done. And hey, with any luck, no one will notice how hard it makes you.

The thumbnail also took me like 25-30 minutes so you're welcome. Not because it's good, but because I stuck with it... and then a friend had to bail me out and fix it BUT I STILL PUT TIME IN OKAY.

CONTENT WARNINGS:

Masculinization - you'll absorb/learn masculine traits from your coworkers and begin to embody tem, so that you can fit in better with them. Elements of peer pressure here.

Trigger installation; workwear, suits, etc - these garments will arouse you, stimulating you to do your best and be the best man and Team Player you can be.

Installation of a work/productivity kink - you'll begin to find achieving your aims/goals/quotas etc. to be a pleasurable, almost erotic activity at times, with safeties to make sure it's not going to get you in trouble at work.

Implication of submission to company hierarchy, which will then bring pleasure - this is where the Team Player element kicks in. The phrase is used as a trigger to inspire feelings of company loyalty, masculinity, and chill around your work to make it more fun for you.

General workplace productivity/calm suggestions - finally, there's also just a plain Safe-For-Work (get it??) element to the file where you'll be encouraged to avoid workplace drama, but assert yourself as needed... keep your head down and get your shit done till clock-out, when you'll wanna hang with your coworkers to build team morale. After all, that's what a good Team Player would do!

--------------------------------------------------------- https://linktr.ee/jockout When I'm not dropping myself or others, I'm off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland. But I am always available for commissions if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $65-100, but you can check my pinned Tumblr post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi! Keep listening, bros.

[meikadonnelly]

|| izzy stradlin ||

you and izzy are very close friends and you go over to his apartment to see him when he shows you a song he's writing...

no trigger warning <3

fluff

You walk up to Izzy's apartment and knock on his door. He called you about 30 minutes ago asking if you wanted to hang out with him today which you of course did. You turn and look over your shoulder to watch the cars going past until you hear the latch on his door and you turn around to see him smiling. "Hey," you say.

"I'm glad you came," he says.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" You ask, walking in and closing the door behind you.

"Not really," he says which makes you laugh. You look over to the lounge area as he walks over to the fridge and notice Izzy's journal on the coffee table and his black guitar sitting on the sofa.

"You writing something?" You ask. He turns around as he takes a sip of water from the fridge. He nods without saying anything. You look at him with a slight smile on your face. He sits the bottle of water on the counter and sighs.

"You wanna hear it don't you?" he asks. You nod eagerly and he shakes his head and rolls his eyes but he still has a smirk on his face. We go and sit on the sofa and he puts one leg on the couch with his guitar on top. He strums the guitar. It's a different style to what he usually writes.

"He lost his mind today, he left it out back on the highway, on 65," he start singing quietly. You listen to the lyrics trying to work out what they mean.

"She loved him yesterday, yesterday's over, I said okay, that's alright," he continues. You slowly piece together that the song is about a break up or something close. He finishes the parts of the song that he's written and look at me. "You like it?" he asks.

"Of course I do!" You say back which makes him smile. "Your voice suits it perfectly," you add. He shrugs, putting his guitar down. "What?" you ask.

"Axl's our singer, he'll sing it," he says. "Plus it's not even finished, and it might never be, it's only an idea."

"You have a right to sing your own song, if you ask him, I'm sure he'll be fine with you singing it," you say. "Plus, I think it should go on the next album." He looks up at you.

"You think so?" he asks.

"Yes!" you reply. He stands up and walks to the fridge to grab another water for you. While he walks back over, he asks a question.

"Do you get what it's about?"

"A breakup? Or relationship problems?" You reply, still a little unsure.

"Kind of, but that's only part of it," he says, passing you the bottle of water and sitting down right next to you. "It's about how life is too short to worry about things that have already happened, for example a break up," he explains. You watch as he tells you about the song. He turns towards you so you cross your legs and face him.

"Is it based on experience?" you ask, knowing that he'd gone through a messy breakup about 3 months ago. He shrugs again.

"I guess so," he admits before continuing. You stay silent but listen to him closely. He finally looks at you and you make eye contact with him. He pauses for a second before you notice his face change. It looks like he's thinking about something. Something other than the song.

"You okay?" you ask, and he glances at you.

"Fuck it," he says quietly and you raise an eyebrow.

"Wha-," he cuts you off by kissing you and almost straight away, you return it. You both pull away after a second and look at each other. He laughs and you feel yourself blush so you look down at your lap.

"Was that okay?" he asks you. You nod and he smiles. "Good," he replies before kissing you again. This time he pushes you to lay down on the sofa and he is hovering above you.

"About time," you murmur in between kisses.

"Oh shut up," Izzy says, laughing. You both stop for a moment and look at each other before Izzy lets himself lay on your chest, his lower body in between your legs. You run your hands through his black hair and you sit up slightly to let his arms go behind your back. You both lay there in silence for about 5 minutes before you hear voices outside Izzy's door which is followed by a knock.

"You want me to get that?" you ask. Izzy groans which vibrates through your chest.

"They'll go away," he finally says and if on queue, you hear the door open look to see Duff and Steven. "Or not," Izzy says. The two boys stop and look down at Izzy who has lifted his head up.

"About fucken time man," Duff says to Izzy.

"That's what I said!" you tell him. Izzy groans once again and puts his head back down. Duff and Steven walk over and sit down on the floor in the lounge and Izzy rolls onto his back and sits up a bit. You put your arms around his neck.

"Okay guys, just make yourself at home, its fine," Izzy says, slightly annoyed. you giggle quietly.

"We wanna talk to you about the album," Steven says.

"What about it?" Izzy asks.

"Well, have you got any song ideas?" Duff asks. Izzy glances at his notebook which prompts Duff to grab it. He reads through the lyrics and looks back at Izzy. "Can you show us?" he asks. Izzy sits up and grabs his guitar, laying back down on you. He shows them exactly what he showed you and you watch Duff and Steven's reaction.

"That's awesome," Steven says once he's finished. "We need that on the album."

"And you have to sing it," Duff says. Izzy leans his head back at you and you smile.

"Axl's voice won't suit it as much as yours," Steven adds.

"Okay well, we need to talk to the others before we decide anything," Izzy says.

"If they agree then will you?" Steven asks. Izzy thinks for a second.

"I suppose it is my song.." he says.

[diazsdimples]

Inspiration Saturday/Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @loserdiaz and @bidisasterbuckdiaz thank you friends! I shall get to all your snippets so soon! Also tagging you back for Sunday

Guys I am being such a bad person and have 6 wips that I'm actively writing, BUT the Frostpunk beans are beaning so hard and I'm so glad! Ngl getting people to force me to write it was extremely effective cause turns out, just like Evan Buckley, I have a praise kink that's visible from space sdkjsdkjd. Here's a moodboard I made ages ago and another small snippet!

“Hey bud, it’s Buck. I- I don’t know if you can hear me but I’ve bought a book with me today, and thought I’d read it to you. My sister used to read it to me when I was little, and it always made me feel safe, so I figured I’d do the same for you.” Buck waits a moment to see if Christopher is going to respond, a twitch of a finger or anything to indicate that he can hear Buck’s words, but the kid remains still, slumbering peacefully with his hands folded over his stomach. Buck licks his lips and opens the books, a wave of nostalgia passing over him as the dry pages pass between his fingers as he flicks through to the first lines. “The year that Buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette…” Buck lets himself get carried away by the words as he reads through the first chapter, mapping out the world for Christopher. As he reads, Buck watches as Christopher’s heart rate slowly decreases, going from a swift 90 beats per minute to a much more acceptable 65. It’s enough to make Buck a little choked up, if he thinks about it too much, that his presence and his voice are calming enough to calm Christopher right down. Buck can’t help but notice the way a few medics hang around as he reads, finding excuses to linger in order to listen to the story. One medic takes Edmundo’s blood pressure three times in the span of 2 minutes, claiming that it was a “little too high for my liking”, but considering he’d heard Hen announce only 10 minutes prior that his blood pressure was a healthy 128/75, Buck isn’t buying it. By the time he’s finished the first chapter, there’s three medics shamelessly hovering around him, one even perched on the end of Edmundo’s bed, her chin resting on her hands and a faraway look in her eyes. Buck slams the book shut, chuckling internally as everyone in the room jumps and suddenly bustles back to work. “Well, that’s the first chapter, bud,” he says as he leans over Christopher once again, brushing a hand over the kid’s forehead under the pretence of checking his temperature. “I’ll be back again in a few hours for chapter two, gotta go out and do some perimeter checks before Bobby yells at me. Hen and Chimney will be right here if you wake up, and your dad is sleeping right next to you. I’ll be back, I promise.” He gets up off the chair, tucking the furs back over the arms once again. He thinks about pressing a kiss to Christopher’s forehead but decides against it. Christopher isn’t his son, after all. His friends would have questions. There’s absolutely no excuse, however, for the way he walks over to Edmundo’s bedside, takes his cold hand in his, and rests his forehead against Edmundo’s shoulder, whispering “please, wake up,” into the fabric of his hospital gown. Buck is aware he’s in trouble.

no pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990 @jesuisici33

@steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress

@epicbuddieficrecs @smilingbuckley @spagheddiediaz @actuallyitsellie @babytrapperdiaz

@thekristen999 @loveyouanyway @shortsighted-owl @underwaterninja

[ertrauma]

I tried to write a little story; I hope you like it.

Hit by a car!

Part 1

The trauma team sits in the resting room for the medical staff after a hard shift. But the quiet does not last long.

Anew the trauma alert sounds and the team rush into the trauma unit. They arrived the unit and a nurse on the registration calls to them “trauma room 3 is free and ready”

The team stand ready and waiting for the paramedics. The trauma team leader has some information and briefed the team:

"Okay guys, the ambulance will be arrived in 2 minutes. We got a female, 31 years old after an accident.

A short time later:

The door jumps open, and the paramedics rolls the stretcher in. On the stretcher lies a woman with neck brace moans in pain and fixed on a spine board. The stretcher is rolled beside the trauma bed and the team listen mindful what the paramedics tell them.

“This is Susan, 31 years old, hit by a car. Possible head and spine and blunt abdominal trauma. Awake and responsive, her vitals weakly but stable. On the ambulance ride her condition worsened. Possible internal bleeding. Not intubated and ventilated."

Now takes over the trauma team.

They open the straps from the stretcher.

"We get her on the trauma bed with the spine board" commands the trauma leader.

"Okay let's go in one, two, three...!"

Now Susan lies on the trauma bed and moans in pain her eyes look afraid in the room. A brightly lit room with a lot of medical staff in blue dresses.

In the background you can hear a firm voice:

"Get her on the monitor and puts a 12 lead ecg and measure blood pressure and O2 saturation!"

"Prepare the ultrasound and strips her naked!"

"Set a second IV-needle and take a blood draw!"

"And later register her for the x-ray and the CT-scan"

Now it will be a bit hectic but very structured.

“Hi Susan, you are at the hospital after an accident, stay calm, you are in good hands, so you can breathe better we put a O2 mask on your face” tells a nurse to her.

Nurses prepares the monitor in the ER and cut open her sleeves from her sweater and they put a bp cuff on her arm. On the IV-access in her arm will attach an infusion with a saline solution.

“Can you everything remember what happened? “

"I don't know, there was a car and then a thump and then a heavy pain." whispers Susan.

“BP is 90/65 and pulse is 105, O2 saturation 94” calls a nurse.

“Now we will examine you carefully from head to toe. First, we will strip you completely naked" says a nurse to her.

A doctor puts his stethoscope in the ears to listen her heart and lungs. But her clothes are in the way, he takes a scissors and cut off her sweater, top and bra right away.

“Please don't cut my clothes off” says Susan with tearful voice.

“I am sorry, unfortunately we have to cut open everything” says the doctor.

The doctor listens to her heart and lungs on her nude chest and nurses puts some ecg pads on her chest and connected her with the monitor. A second IV-needle is placed in her arm and a junior doctor injects about this a painkiller.

“I give you a painkiller Susan, you can feel a little bit dizzy and sleepy after that.” Said the junior doctor.

Susan nods slowly and doesn’t really know what’s happening to her.

The nurses start to strip her fully naked. A nurse removes her shoes and socks and then she takes a scissors and cut open her jeans and panties. Now she lies totally nude on the trauma stretcher.

“Can you deep breath for me” asks the doctor.

Susan tries to breath deeply. Susan is still wearing the neck brace and can only look on the ceiling.

Some ecg pads will place on her extremities, two on her arms and two on her calf and then they are connected with the cables from the heart monitor. Susan is fully monitored now.

“Breath sounds on both sides” tells the doctor.

The junior doctor takes blood from her femoral vein in her groin. Susan screams briefly as the needle pierces. The junior doctor gives the filled cannula a nurse and tells her:

"bring it to the lab, for a full screening."

“Susan I am going to shine with a lamp in your eyes” another doctor says.

The doctor shines with the otoscope in her eyes and checks her pupil’s reaction.

“Pupils are equal and reactive”

Next the doctor shines in her ears and nose and search for bleedings how to be a sign for a head trauma.

At the same time a junior doctor rolls the mobile ultrasound beside the bed and get it ready.

“Can you open your mouth for me?” ask the doctor Susan.

Susan moans and opens slowly her mouth. The doctor shines in her mouth and tells the team:

“No bleedings in her mouth, ears and nose, first no evidence of a head trauma.”

“Feels the pulse on her femoral artery and on her feet! Sensitivity and reflex tests on her legs and feet! Complete spinal check! Insert a urine catheter in her bladder.” commands the doctor.

Because the painkiller Susan is slightly dizzy and sleepy. Their perception is clouded, and she moans and mutter to herself.

Now lots of hands work on Susan and she thinks "oh no what is happening to me?"

…to be continue

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Denying & Fasting

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ Psalm 65:3 Though we are overwhelmed by our sins, you forgive them all.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ 2 Timothy 2:21 If you keep yourself pure, you will be a special utensil for honorable use. Your life will be clean, and you will be ready for the Master to use you for every good work.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM FASTING

I AM DENYING

I AM STRONG

I AM CONNECTED WITH GOD

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READ TIME: 7 Minutes & 35 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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  In today's world, it's hard to be pure; there's so much you can look at that can cause you to be defiled; even just simply looking through Instagram or Facebook reels can defile you because the world doesn’t hide anything anymore. It's just out there in the open, ready for anyone to listen to and look at it. I try to stay off Instagram, ticktock, etc., as much as possible.

   Sure, they have a Christian side to all this, but at the same time, it's still making us sit idle. Yes, we can put a timer on our phone to tell us how long we have been watching and when we need to stop, but we must understand the longer we sit idle, the more we become less usable for the kingdom of God. We become unclean and won't be special anymore because we have allowed this world to taint our minds and hearts.

 Today's verse tells us to keep ourselves pure for honorable use; we all are different . God is calling us all to something different but with the exact cause: to save souls. But how can we save souls if we aren’t pure, if we aren’t clean? Sure, we all have seen people that aren’t so clean.

   God can use anyone, but to be used the way God wants to use us, we must be clean for him, and our lives must be clean. Take a few moments and look over your life. Is it clean? Do you do the right thing all the time? Do we make sure our spiritual eyes & ears stay clean? About words and language that are not appropriate, and even the things we view that aren’t right.

 Verse 20: In a wealthy home, some utensils are made of gold and silver, and some are made of wood and clay. The expensive utensils are used for special occasions, and the cheap ones are for everyday use.

  It tells us that the gold and silver utensils are used for special use; we want to be used by God, so we must keep ourselves from getting dirty by doing things that will taint our spiritual life; a lot of us look at shows and listen to music, and we don’t care, and we think it's funny to hear and see these things. Still, God wants us to avoid things that will change us and keep us from following him.

   Sometimes, we look at things and pass by them, but sometimes, we look at them three or four times because they get our attention. When something gets our attention, the enemy can draw us in to look and experience things in a way we never thought we could; being clean is hard to do, and not listening to certain music, I must admit it's hard. Still, once the lord showed me about different music, I didn’t listen to it anymore.

I can remember loving Biggie Smalls, and when I was cleaning one day, I quoted the lyrics with Biggie, and my dad heard me; of course, I wasn’t cussing; I was still saying the words. He was very shocked; he let me know that the walk that I’m trying to have with God, I can't listen to him, and I stop it; it was tough, but as I grew. Closer to God, I knew what I must do: sacrifice, and that’s what we must do when serving God.

* John 8:32-34 So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

* John 12:26 If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the father will honor him.

 

* Luke 9:23 And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.

  The verses tell us what we must do to be a disciple: we must abide in him in his word, and we will know the truth, and it will set us free; it goes on to tell us we must serve him and follow him and then we will be his servants, and if we deny ourselves and do it DAILY AND follow him, we will be his disciples. A lot of us feel that we can’t do any of this because it’s hard, but God wants us to push past the hard days; he wants us to push past our desires, he wants us to push past our cravings, and this world our flesh wants so much! But we don’t have to do what it wants!

 Being a disciple of Christ is so precious, but we must deny what we want: smoking, drinking, cussing, arguing anything of the flesh we must say no to. Are you willing to live a life different from the norm? Many people don’t want to stop doing what makes them feel good or what they feel is right because it will be too much right. This world wants to do anything that’s against the right thing of God; if we call ourselves followers or disciples of God, we must do it now, DENY & FAST; that’s the only way to kill the flesh is fast. So, we can be the expensive utensils Christ uses.

  ***Today, we learned how the world is doing what it wants. We also learned we must deny ourselves more and more, and yea this is hard, but when we fast, we are showing Christ I need you more than I need porn; I need you more than I need this liquor; I need you more than I need illicit moments with people I need you more than anything in this world, and he will start helping you the more you fast people are scared to fast about things. Still, when we turn this powerful weapon into a tool of ours, you’ll see a big difference.

 Luke 14:27 Whoever does not bear his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

   Again, it tells us that we must bear our cross and come after him and be his disciples, and if we don’t do it, we can’t be his; we can’t have our cake and eat it too. A lot of us wont compromise for the flesh, but we should ; we must cut off anything immediately that’s not of God , and not it linger, the more problems we have ,if you feel you don’t hear his voice and your compromising fast and pray today so that he can help you. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, we thank you for everything; we ask you today to use us for your special service; use us and change us, lord. We want to deny ourselves everything for you, lord, please give us the strength we need to be like you, lord we love you so much, and we thank you. Forgive us of our sins and help us hear your voice and be used by you. Lord, we thank you for everything; please help us to hear your voice; in Jesus Name, Amen

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REFERENCES

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Luke 6:40 A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone, when he is fully trained, will be like his teacher

 

+ Luke 14:33 So, therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.

 

+ Matthew 4:19 He said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.

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FURTHER READINGS

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 Proverbs 6

Isaiah 39

Esther 8

Titus 2

Luke 17

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