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#Gray EX
kowtownart · 1 year
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Spamton Birthday party!!
Featuring a lot of my friends' Spam EX's! :3
Top two (Disk and Hocus) belong to @the-spam-specialist
The bottom two (Gray and Birb) belong to @disastrouslyyours and me!
Plus a little Hum popping out of the cake!
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zivazivc · 3 months
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Floyd being gray and pathetic for any angst enjoyers out there
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dailyrothko · 2 months
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Mark Rothko, Untitled, 1969
Acrylic on wove paper, 50 x 42 5/16 in. (127 x 107.5 cm) InscriptionVerso: MARK ROTHKO Estate/Inventory Number2027.69 CollectionNational Gallery of Art, Gift of The Mark Rothko Foundation, Inc., 1986.43.269. © Kate Rothko Prizel and Christopher Rothko
Photo by Eric Keune Instagram-@erkitekt at National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC
After years of bad scans of these Gray paintings on paper, it's gratifying to finally get a photo that captures some of the magic from the NGA show
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violetrainbow412-blog · 9 months
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Emergency room [S. R] +18
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 12k
Summary: Spencer forgot to mention that you're still his emergency contact. You wouldn't have had a problem with it if you weren't his ex of over a year and the hospital took you out of the bed because he had a car crash
contents: exes to lovers, car accident, hospitals, mention of injuries (nothing graphic), mutual longing, SMUT, porn with plot, a little sub!spencer if you squint, penetrative sex (p in v), vanilla sex
Maybe there is a mistake with the grammar and pronouns, I swear I checked it the best I could but surely something escaped me! Enjoy :)
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The ringing of your cell phone snapped you out of your hard-won reverie a few hours ago, and you sighed audibly into your pillow before opening your eyes. The device was somewhere on the nightstand, so it was enough to reach out and feel the wood a little to take it.
Virginia Hospital Center. 
You hoped the caller ID was wrong, which was highly unlikely, and you swiped to take the call, wondering what it could be.
“Virginia Hospital Center, may I speak to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” With a shaky voice you answered in the affirmative and then the woman continued: "I am calling because you are the emergency contact on file for Mr. Spencer Walter Reid, who has just been admitted to the emergency room”
Hearing this, you jumped out of bed like a spring and felt how a chill ran through your entire body, a sign of the obvious panic that had just invaded you.
"What happened? He's fine?"
“He suffered a car accident and now he is being transferred to the operating room. It is imperative that you show up at the hospital so that you can account for any complications and can help us complete the information in his medical history."
The woman behind the phone was barely finishing saying that when you were already looking for your car keys and a decent change of clothes. You only took what you had in your bag before getting in your car and starting the engine to start the march, even with the adrenaline that you had coursing through your system. The hospital was a bit far away, so every time you accelerated too much you had to remind yourself that you could have an accident too, and then that would be the last straw. With that constant change of speed, you managed to get there in almost an hour, a little less than the time it would normally take, but still too long for your liking.
Somewhat agitated you rushed to the reception desk, where there was a nurse whose voice you recognized from the previous call. She had to reassure you a bit when you desperately asked her, almost with tears in your eyes, to tell you where Spencer was and what condition he was in. 
“What relationship do you have with the patient?”
“I am his…” Your breath caught for a moment, thinking about whether it would be correct to tell the woman the truth or not; In the end, you decided to lie to her "girlfriend"
You and Spencer hadn't seen each other, at least not physically, for a little over a year. You often saw him on the news, in one or another now-forgotten photo that fell by accident from between the pages of your books, or in the articles on the internet about the conferences he gave; but you had never dared to contact him to go out, just as he hadn’t called again. You thought that eventually, you guys would meet again even if it was by chance, but you never imagined that it would be under these conditions. 
“Can you help me answer a few questions?” she murmured and to each question she asked you answered almost mechanically. You were quite surprised that, even with the time that had already passed, you still remembered everything perfectly, as if it were your own medical information that you were providing.
The woman informed you, as kindly as she could be, that Spencer had already been in surgery for an hour and that when the doctor came out he could explain what had happened in more detail. You thought about the hit he had suffered to end up there and the anxiety of knowing if he was okay was eating away at your place in the waiting room, where you alternated between biting your nails and moving your leg up and down to calm down.
You wondered, meanwhile, why he still had you listed as an emergency contact. You knew he wasn't a person with many friends, but it sounded more practical for that position to be filled by someone he lived with more often, like Prentiss or Hotchner, not you. It wasn't the first time you'd been in a hospital with Spencer as a patient and you tried to remind yourself that those other times everything had gone well, but on those other occasions he'd always gotten immediate care because he'd been working or it was simple things like a cold that had become too bothersome. You wondered how far he had crashed, how long it had taken the ambulance to get there, how much pain he had experienced. You were really worried, until after half an hour that seemed like an eternity you heard the nurse call you and a doctor appeared next to her.
The first thing you asked, with a trembling voice, was if he was okay, and when you felt the doctor's soft nod you felt your soul return to your body. Then he explained everything that had happened in greater detail: Spencer had been hit from the side by a drunk driver who had entered at the same time as him and who, unfortunately, hadn’t survived. The surgery had been delayed because Spencer had a stab wound to his leg, dangerously close to the femoral artery and at risk of bleeding, as well as multiple pieces of glass buried deep in his torso, which punctured muscle and could damage vessels, nerves, and tendons. He had made the emergency call before falling unconscious and the doctor in front of you emphasized that if it hadn't been for the speed of the report things could have ended worse.
"Right now he is in intensive care, you can come in to see him until he wakes up"
"And how long will that take?"
“It varies from patient to patient. I can't give you an exact answer, but it won't be for another hour or two”
You warmly thanked the doctor for the job done and somewhat disappointed, but definitely calmer, you returned to your seat in the waiting room. You asked if you could stay there the rest of the night even if it wasn't on his side and the woman agreed. A little less upset, you searched in the hospital for a place to prepare coffee and after obtaining a well-charged one you waited again.
At some point you curled up in the chair and after an hour, and the fact that the coffee had no effect on you at all, you had already fallen asleep. Luckily your sleep was light, so you could clearly hear when a new nurse murmured your name and said that she would guide you to where Spencer was, who had woken up a few minutes before. During the walk down the corridor, she warned you that in intensive care only visits of less than an hour were allowed and when you entered the room full of stretchers protected only by curtains, she took you to one almost at the end, indicating that your patient was there.
You didn't go in immediately, because you needed to get some air first to gather the courage to do it, and when you finally did, a sea of feelings flooded you. Spencer looked fatigued and a little pale. His eyelids were closed and if it hadn't been for the heart monitor next door emitting soft, continuous beeps, you would have thought he was already in a better place. 
Carefully you approached a chair right next to the stretcher and once seated there you remained silent for a moment, until you felt the need to hold his hand as a way of comforting yourself, as if you were closer this way. Said action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who, when he slightly opened his eyes, believed that his mind was vilely deceiving him, and a second later your name left his lips as a scratchy and confused whisper.
"Hello" was all you managed to say, holding back the tears that had already pooled on your lashes. "How are you feeling?"
“I feel like everything around me is spinning”
With a little more confidence, and so that he wouldn't strain his eyes, you approached the edge of the bed, still not letting go of his hand.
"The doctor said you really had a bad accident"
"The other man? He is…?"
"Dead" you completed in a whisper, completely admiring your friend's pure spirit that allowed her to worry about who caused him to be there "He was drunk when he hit you and they couldn't do much"
"Oh," was all Spencer said, with a genuine tone of pity. You didn't know what to say, or even what to do, you were just looking at him as closely as possible to reassure yourself that he was okay and with his whole body. Your hand hadn't let go and he seemed comfortable with it.
"Do you want me to call someone?"
"A doctor?"
"To a friend"
"They..." Reid still looked disoriented, as if he couldn't even remember the conditions in which he had the accident, and when he finally got his thoughts together, he looked back at you, "Why are you here?"
“I am your emergency contact”
It took him a moment, again, to process the words. When he was aware of the situation, he closed his eyes tightly as if he had done something terrible, and looked at you with shame.
"I'm so sorry"
"Don't you want me here?"
"What? No! Of course I want you here. It's just that I didn't want to bother you with this, I… I thought I'd change that information when I found a better candidate and I never did, so months went by and I… forgot. Well, I didn't forget, but I didn't want to change it because I didn't think it would be necessary and right now I think I should have discussed it with you and I never did, so I'm sorry. Are you upset?”
“Spencer, relax,” you exhaled gently, rubbing your fingers over the back of his hand “There's no problem staying here, I just want to know if you need me to call someone. They didn't let me stay here for long."
“Call Hotch. I want to let him know that I'm taking a vacation."
It was difficult for him to keep his eyes open continuously, probably from the remaining effects of the anesthesia, so you just nodded and did as he asked. Spencer listened to the entire conversation in which you explained what had happened and even answered some of his boss's questions himself, assuring him that he was as well as he could be after an accident of this magnitude. Aaron also promised that the team would visit him as soon as possible, and he asked you to keep in touch, with an odd familiarity that made you smile.
After finishing the call, you returned to your chair and leaned over to brush his hair off his forehead, taking the opportunity to caress his face carefully. Spencer, still with his eyes closed, smiled at the touch.
“You cut it” you observed “Are you still doing it yourself?”
"Yes, still"
You smiled at him and he smiled back, but neither of you said anything else. There would be time to answer questions later.
Although he seemed to be asleep, he was aware that you were by his side for another long time, and when you said goodbye you promised that you would return there as soon as you could.
The next morning, after taking a shower and calling work that you had an emergency, you kept your promise. Spencer seemed a bit more recovered on this second visit; his color had returned to his cheeks, he was almost sitting on the bed and could basically keep his eyes open for more than ten seconds at a time. The doctor had told you that he would stay there for observation for the rest of the day and once he moved to a general room you could be with him for as long as you wanted. For now, you would have to make do with that sixty-minute visit.
"Do you feel better?"
"Not really. But I'm not complaining, it could be worse” he replied, settling better on the bed and wincing.
“I told the doctors no… I asked them not to give you Dilaudid” you confessed, with a bit of fear of his reaction “No type of morphine, in fact. They told me that they could substitute another analgesic, but that you would feel a little more pain than you normally would. Still, I insisted. I hope you don't mind"
“The doctor told me. And I appreciate it,” he murmured sincerely. He couldn't describe the ease he felt when he found out about it, for he had been drug-free for too long to mess it up by carelessness. Luckily, he had you.
"How have you been, by the way?" you shyly exclaimed, taking a step closer to him "I don't mean right now, but... during this time"
"Relatively well" he replied, inviting you with his eyes to sit in the same chair you had been a few hours ago. In doing so you hoped that he would develop a more complete answer than just two words and then he began to relate to you some events significant enough to deserve a mention.
One of the things you'd always loved about Spencer was hearing him talk, whether it was for a minute or an hour. With other people he talked fast, afraid someone would ask him to shut up, but with you he always took his time. In his words there was no sign of spite towards you, even when you thought you deserved it, always showing the beautiful heart that he harbored in that chest.
“I have also been giving conferences more often and that makes me happy. Many of the people there don't understand what I'm talking about, but those who do always come up and ask me questions. Sometimes Emily or Rossi accompany me and other times I go alone. Oh, and I'm taking a PhD."
"Another?" you said surprised, although you didn’t doubt his ability.
"I've been kind of bored, if I'm honest" was his poor explanation from him. You wanted to remind him that no one went into PhDs just because they were bored, but he was a genius you were talking to.
You didn't dare to confess to him that you had been watching some of his labor movements, but just knowing again a little about the things that were happening to him made you feel good.
“Have you been alright?” he continued, looking genuinely interested in hearing your answer.
“I have been able to defend myself, yes. Do you remember when I told you about asking for a promotion? Well, it finally happened a few months ago and the extra money has been doing me good. I have a little more work freedom, too, and I'm considering moving”
“Where do you plan to move to?”
You explained some of the options you had in mind and after hearing each one he helped you learn about some of the pros and cons in terms of costs, services, and security in the area. You would have continued your talk if it hadn't been for a nurse coming in. She was the same one that had received you the night before and you smiled kindly when you recognized her.
"Good morning, how are you feeling, Mr. Reid?" she asked, as she maneuvered to change the IV pole bag.
“Better than yesterday, definitely”
"You don't have to worry, you will recover soon"
"I hope so" he smiled.
“You gave your girlfriend quite a scare, that's for sure,” she teased, nodding her head in your direction.
You tensed at that, and if you had been an ostrich, you would have buried your head in the ground. Spencer watched you from the stretcher with a little smile and answered something you didn't understand to the nurse. They exchanged another couple of sentences until she was gone, saying goodbye cordially to both of you.
"Did she misread the situation or is there something here I'm missing?" he asked you once you were alone, looking genuinely amused.
“Okay, I admit it, maybe I lied a bit last night. I thought they would have more compassion and trust in a girlfriend than an ex-girlfriend" 
"And your real boyfriend isn't going to be upset if you're here taking care of me?"
Ever since you met him you could say that if Spencer lacked a quality, it was subtlety and now he himself was showing it. You knew that there was enough trust for him to tease you like that, but you also knew that asking about your love life was some kind of revenge for having lied to the staff and so you decided to humor him.
"No, he isn’t very jealous to say. On the contrary, he is open-minded and right now we are trying to have an open relationship. You know, I see some people, he sees others, but we still have our thing."
Spencer's previously mocking expression immediately changed upon hearing you say that, having no idea how he would be wise to react. But you couldn't stand it for a long time and you burst out laughing, clarifying between laughs that you were only joking.
“Well, even so, it is likely that at some point in your life you could be in such a relationship, there are even those who think that it is healthy and mature when both people agree”
“It's not quite my style. I prefer safe monogamy or if the guy is very stupid, the sex without commitment for a single night” you laughed slightly.
The deadline for the visit had already expired and with all the sadness you had to say goodbye to him, promising that you would return as soon as he came out of intensive care.
“You've done a lot for me, but it's okay if at some point you're too busy to come, okay? I will understand"
"Don't talk nonsense" you exclaimed firmly, while you leaned down enough to give him a hug without hurting him. Suddenly a new concern invaded you and you felt that you had to ask him a question that you had omitted: "Unless you have a psycho girlfriend who is after my head, do you?"
"Do you think if that was the case, I wouldn't have mentioned it already?" he muttered obviously and now it was your turn to smile.
You didn't want a nurse to come in to get you out of there by force so you took your things and looked at your ex-boyfriend one last time to wave goodbye.
You always thought that when a relationship ended it was because either party had made a serious mistake: “I slept with your best friend”, “my family secretly hates you”, or “it turns out I'm still too in love with my ex to love you”. But when you decided to break up with Spencer, you found that that formula didn't apply to everyone.
Perhaps it was an unfortunate combination of situations, feelings, and problems that led to things simply stopping working overnight. You didn't know how to explain it, none of you, but you guys couldn't even kiss the same way you used to. Your work exhausted you, his work exhausted him, and in the end it was you who decided for both of us that things would be better if everyone took their own path. This isn’t to say that the breakup was less painful, it was just that the hope of being able to have a friendship after it made the grief more bearable. But none of you was able to forget what had happened to pretend to be friends and so, little by little, you stopped seeing each other. Over a year passed with neither of you discussing the silent breakup and, though you and he couldn't have known it, even your respective group of friends suffered a little from the pain of parting from a couple they'd swear would walk down the aisle.
That was why a part of you was guiltily glad that you could see him again and that things weren't at all awkward, like you always imagined they would be. It was your same Spencer, just a little teasing and with less hair, but other than that he had barely changed. He still had those kind eyes that once saw you as if you were the most beautiful person on earth.
You took advantage of the way home in your car to think about everything that was happening to you and for a moment you wondered if with Spencer's recovery all relationship with you would end up withering like a flower with the arrival of autumn or would be reborn as they do in spring. 
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"I don't even know why we're playing, we both know you're always going to win" you complained, throwing your pathetic poker hand onto the bed sheet, as he laughed.
The hospital called you when Spencer was admitted to the general ward and you had stayed with him ever since. There was a television in the room, but you knew that he was not a big fan of technological entertainment, so before coming back you decided to take as many things as you needed so that you could kill time; a few books, a deck of cards, a book full of word scrambles and crossword puzzles you'd picked up at a newsstand on the way, and even a blank notebook that could do multiple jobs.
He would stay there for about a week (the doctor explained that it all depended on how fast he healed) and that morning you had gone to talk to your boss at the office to ask her for a couple of days so you could stay with him. You still had a week of vacation available and although he felt extremely guilty you insisted on staying there, after all no one from the BAU could leave their post for that long. In addition, urgent or essential things could be done from home and it was enough to connect for a couple of hours from your laptop to solve them.
Spencer hadn't told you, but he felt comfortable having company during his stay there. Hospitals weren’t his favorite places and having such a familiar presence comforted him.
"I'll let you win once if it makes you feel better"
"If you wanted me to feel better you should have done it without telling me, now I know you were just being silly" you huffed, shuffling the cards with both hands.
"It's all about math, it's really not that complicated"
“Why have you never thought about betting big in casinos? You're from Vegas, you must know a lot. And you could become a millionaire with it."
“It is illegal, in fact, and I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump because of my card-counting ability. So sorry to disappoint you, but those plans wouldn't work."
“A wasted talent. What a pity” you sighed, starting to hand out a new game.
While you were doing that, a nurse came into the room carrying a tray with food and your friend's eyes sparkled, because being fed intravenously for a day and a half hadn’t been very to his liking. When he put it down in front of you, you noticed that everything looked appetizing considering it was hospital food, and after thanking the man he took the dessert and spread it in your direction.
“You don't like Jell-o anymore?
"Yeah, but I know it's your favorite," he added, shrugging and starting to eat the main course voraciously.
"I'm not going to take advantage of a sick person"
“You aren’t taking advantage. I'm giving it to you" with a smile you put the dessert on the nightstand, ready to return it to him if he wanted it later, and as seeing him eat your own hunger woke you up, you told him you'd go out for a moment to look for something.
You were surprised that across the corridor, at the reception, there was a group of people that you recognized immediately. Morgan was the first to notice you and had to turn twice to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he motioned to Garcia, who was holding a bouquet of flowers and a balloon, and she waved her hand in your direction with a huge smile.
“Are you really who I think you are?” he asked, once they approached you.
"It seems so" you laughed, under the watchful and surprised gaze of almost everyone present.
The team greeted you with hugs, seeming genuinely happy to see you around and asking about the status of your mutual friend. You related all the medical details of the accident, the care they had taken and in the same way you told them that you had been there throughout the entire process.
"And how is he now?"
“He is fine, just a little sore. But the worst is over, the doctor says he will recover soon”
"It's a relief that everything was quick, I don't even want to think about what would have happened if the doctors didn't arrive on time"
"Do you think we can stop by to see him?"
"He'll be delighted, I assure you" you answered happily "He's in room 501, I'll come back to you as soon as I find something to eat"
Everyone thanked you and set out to find the room, except for Aaron who stayed in the hallway so he could talk to you.
"How has everything been?"
"Okay, as far as that goes," you smiled, arms crossed over your chest, "How's Jack?"
"Growing up" was all he said and you didn't need more to know what he meant "I just wanted to tell you that the plan is to stay here for a few hours, in case you want to come home and rest"
Although you didn't often see him, Hotch had always been particularly nice to you when you were the boy's girlfriend, and he had also tried to cheer the man up when he found out about the breakup: he was especially fond of both you and him.
“Oh, thank you very much for that, Aaron. I was going to go get something to eat, but I don't have much of an appetite for fast or canned food, so I could probably eat at home and come back."
"Do what you have to do. We'll be here,” he assured you.
"You're not going to ask Spencer to go back to work, are you?"
"I won't ask him, I'll be lucky if I convince him not to do it" you giggled to see that Spencer was still the same stubborn person as always, and you thought about whether it would be correct to ask your ex-boyfriend's boss a personal question. You had always seen someone strong in him, of course, but he also had a gentle and understanding part.
"He told me that he's been fine, but… has he really been?"
You wanted to hear from someone else how he had been, because you knew that it was likely that the chestnut omitted the bad parts of the story just to not worry you.
"I don't know what can be considered ‘fine' in Reid's life. He has kept up his spirits and as far as I know his mother is doing well. He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, and even though I've insisted on it, he refuses to see a therapist, but I guess he finds another way to deal with the problems. There have been bad days, but he always gets over it” you felt calm when you heard that and you nodded with a smile.
“He is always like that. It makes me happy that he has you"
"Sometimes he's not that happy" he sighed, probably with some important background for those words "But in the end it's like in all families, right?"
"I think so" you smiled bitterly. He was watching you carefully, trying to read your micro-expressions as much as possible. After all he was a profiler, that was his job. "Then I'll go home quickly and come back as soon as possible, okay?"
“Good luck, drive carefully”
"It was nice to see you again, Hotch."
Spencer hardly even noticed your absence with the bustle of his friends in the room and when you came back you were even wearing other clothes. During their visit you were just a listener to the funny stories everyone seemed to have and from time to time you answered a few polite questions from others.
You talked to them about your plans to stay there daily and you agreed that they would take turns helping you for a couple of hours each, when possible, so you would get some rest as well. Also, most volunteered to replace the amount of blood he had needed in surgery. All the attention had the man a bit dizzy, but still he felt lucky for the people around him.
The days went by and sometimes you smuggled in a snack that wouldn't harm your friend's health so he could eat during the afternoon. You had convinced him to see one or another movie, you had brought some yarn and needles for you to resume knitting lessons that had been forgotten for many years, and in general you could say that you had a good time with him. Chats with Spencer always felt natural so topics of conversation weren't a problem either, as he would be able to recite facts to you from memory as long as you guys didn't get bored.
The doctors came in frequently to check that everything was in order and every time you heard positive responses about the recovery process you felt calm.
You'd come home at night because Spencer insisted on it, but the next morning you'd leave your apartment as early as possible and spend the rest of the day there.
Although you didn't want to admit it, you were more and more convinced that those days by his side became the spark of happiness that your life needed. All the time was only yours and served to recover some of the lost things.
“Do you want me to read aloud to you?” he offered an afternoon and you put aside your occupations to accept the offer. You had gotten him a copy of The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle because you knew he loved that book and that was the one selected for the activity.
Contrary to what many people thought, he was a great speaker and the sound of his voice brought to the surface memories that you thought were lost.
"What are you reading?" you had asked that night, after brushing your teeth and putting on your pajamas. Spencer spent at least 10 minutes reading before going to sleep, enough for him to devour an entire book, or at least a large part of it.
You assumed that his current reading would be something related to a case, but you were surprised to hear the answer.
"Alice in Wonderland"
"Why are you reading Alice in Wonderland?" you asked helpfully, as you slid under the covers into the space next to him and peered over the side.
“My mom used to read it to me when I was a kid and I wanted to reread it. It's a nice story"
"I have never read it. I just watched the movie"
"You are committing a sin. The cinema will never do justice to the original stories.”
"And why don't you read to me a bit?" you asked nicely, followed by a short kiss on the lips "I like listening to you and maybe you will help me fall asleep"
You carefully slipped in until you were comfortably recharged on his chest and when you were ready he complied with your request, beginning with the story he knew by heart.
Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it…
It became a habit and sometimes you guys wouldn't even finish the books because you always picked another one that seemed interesting, even if it was in a different language because you knew Spencer would translate it for you. It was those kinds of actions that allowed him to feel useful around you and thus show you how much he loved you. 
You had already read that book once, as you were also an enthusiastic Doyle fan, so he felt free to choose one of his favorite chapters. You didn't lie down as comfortably as you used to, but you still enjoyed reading, with a big smile to return to that habit of yours that you loved so much.
In the midst of everything you reflected that, perhaps, the love between you was something that had not completely disappeared, but rather a latent feeling that had now found an opportunity to appear.
Loving meant many things and if you didn't love it then you wouldn't be there at that moment, but somehow repeating an exclusive activity from your time as a couple made you miss that greatly. Spencer hadn't read to anyone else because he knew that was just yours.
This time you didn't fall asleep when he finished the chapter, but you kept looking at him the whole time, afraid that it was just a ghost in your memory that would evaporate in your hands as soon as you dared to touch him.
Luckily he was very real and inside that small hospital room, you could travel to the past as many times as you wanted without being disturbed. And for now, that was enough for you two.
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A whole week passed and everything seemed to be going great. That day Spencer had convinced you to watch a Korean movie he had on DVD and you were about to leave when he cleared his throat to get your attention.
"Before you go, do you think you could do me a favor?" he asked. He could move a little better now and right now his feet dangled to the side of the stretcher, from where he watched you slightly nervous. You didn’t imagine what this behavior was due to.
"Whatever, what do you need?"
"I didn't ask before because... I'm a little embarrassed, to be honest," Spencer wasn't watching you speak and your brow furrowed in obvious confusion at that "But... I asked the nurse if I could take a shower now and she said yes, but I need someone to help me"
Your mouth opened with a soft oh and then you understood why he seemed so shy about the request.
“You don't have to do it if you don't want to” he added “I know it can be awkward, I just don't know who else to ask and you know it bothers me so much being so dirty. I hadn't tried it before because it literally hurt to breathe, but now that I feel better I think I really need it and I would really appreciate it if you… you know."
"It’s okay, Spencer," you replied, taking a few steps toward him, "There's nothing in there that I haven't already seen.”
“I will wear underwear, I don't have to be completely naked. You would just have to help me wash… some parts”
“Then why are you making this fuss? Let's give you that shower!" you laughed, sitting down next to him so he put his arm around your shoulders and you could help him up.
He was still having a bit of trouble from the leg injury, but the bathroom wasn't that far away and you managed to guide him there. The shower was surrounded by a plastic curtain, with a proper chair for patients and a hose with a shower head at the end. You helped Spencer into the chair and while you recovered from the effort you took a look around; there were some toiletries on a shelf that would surely do for him, and a white towel as well.
“Morgan brought me some new clothes and the nurse said we could ask the store manager for a gown,” he muttered, before you started doing anything. You took off your shoes and left them nestled to one side, always feeling his gaze following you.
When you noticed that he didn't take his eyes off you and was just there, sitting, you spoke:
“Should I help you take off your gown or do you take it off yourself?” there was amusement in your words and Spencer, as if taken from a trance, hastened to find the knot of the garment for himself. He was already wearing his underpants below and it only took him to get rid of the material so that he was half naked.
You hadn't seen his wounds until that moment and you couldn't help but wrinkle your face imagining the pain he must have felt. His stitches were still there but they were already healing and he would have at least four scars, plus one twice the size on the leg opposite where he had taken a bullet; that added up to five marks adorning his body. He was never an athletic person, but since he wasn't a very keen eater either he was able to keep himself in shape. Personally, you had always been attracted to him in every possible way, so his physique was never something that bothered you: thin, muscular, with some paunch, you were going to like him no matter how he was.
“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stare at me?” he countered, looking down at you with that expression you knew was the boldest thing he could get, and you snorted a laugh.
"Shut up"
You stretched to reach the shower head to warm the water, not wanting him to catch a cold and knowing that a warm shower would make him feel better because it would relax his muscles. Once it was at the right temperature, you wet his hair a bit and took shampoo in your hands to wash his head. He gave a barely audible moan as you began to massage his scalp and closed his eyes so he could enjoy your touch. Once you were done there you took a sponge and started cleaning his shoulders, torso, and back, trying to be as careful as possible. Sometimes you even let your fingers slip through the side of the sponge to touch his slightly tanned skin, as smooth as it had always been, while you gazed at those moles you'd kissed so many times. The first time you had sex with him, as you watched him in the twilight after the act, you had tried to study every part you could, from the little freckles on his back to the birthmark on his leg, and right now you felt like crying to see those little things about him again.
You were enjoying treating him like this so much and not to mention Spencer, who felt like he was in heaven to feel you so close to him. He could smell your perfume, a little worn, but still present after the whole day and from time to time he dared to look up to meet your face. And every time he looked at you, he remembered why he thought you were the most beautiful woman of all.
"You didn't have to give me the whole shower, you know?" he joked at some point, when you lovingly washed his hands “I just wanted you to help me with the parts I couldn't reach. But honestly, I'm not complaining about this."
Of course the two of you had ever taken a shower together, but it had never been anything like this. They were always things to optimize time, like when you were short of time to go to work or too tired to shower separately. This act was something different, something more private and delicate; it was too domestic. You were taking care of him and at the same time enjoying seeing him in such a docile position, peeking at you from time to time.
"I'm just doing an old friend a favor" you answered with a smile, although when you heard the words out loud it immediately faded.
An old friend. Was that what you were now? 
The place was silent for a moment, with only the sound of water dripping on the white tile floor.
"Did you ever miss me?"
His question had taken you by surprise and you remained silent before answering, trying to figure out what relation the question had to the situation. From the way he'd said it, you almost thought it was one of those things that burned in his chest and he'd needed to exhale.
"Yes, sometimes" you finally answered. He seemed satisfied with the answer "And you?"
"Many times," he laughed, a bit of guilt tinging his words.
A part of you wondered what he was trying to tell you with that: was it a confession… or a declaration? Ending the relationship had been imminent, and if you hadn’t done it that day you could have done it months or even weeks later, however, you weren’t going to lie in saying that you weren’t tormented by the thought of what would have happened if you had tried just a little longer. And that was accompanied, of course, by a tremendous feeling of nostalgia. You wanted to correct your answer and tell him that you had actually missed him terribly, all along, but you couldn't bring yourself to. And he, who couldn't read your mind, thought that he had simply bothered you with an out-of-place comment. 
"You can rinse off while I get a new gown, what do you say?"
Spencer nodded at the idea and then you walked out of there, your cheeks feeling strangely hot. What was happening to you? Did you still have feelings for him?
Maybe the real question was, have you ever stopped feeling something for him? 
It didn't take you long to get what you needed and you came back to find it wrapped in the towel. After he got dressed, you maneuvered in the same way to help him out, although now with the added problem of the slippery floor, and before long he was lying back on the bed.
"I feel much better now" he smiled at you. From the bedroom window you could see the night sky and then you realized how long it took you to shower.
"Do you want me to do something else?"
Your curt response wasn't because he deserved it, but because you were too confused to stay there any longer.
“No, everything's fine. Thank you very much for this”
"You're welcome" you smiled.
"Well... I guess you'll want to go now”
You still knew Spencer too well to know that that slight frown between his brows was a sure sign of concern, and you felt bad for speaking to him in the way you had. To atone a bit for your guilt, you approached him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against his body in a hug.
His body still felt warm and comfortable and just as if it had been made to fit yours. His arms held you firmly when he was finally able to react and you felt his chest deflate a little, as if he wanted to give you more space to feel close.
Time passed so slowly that you didn't even know how long you stayed in that position, just enjoying the closeness and his gentle hands rubbing your back.
"I like how you smell" you exclaimed in a low voice, fearing to break the tranquility of the moment and you felt his chest vibrate with a laugh.
“Did you know that your sense of smell is directly linked to the attraction you feel for a person? Your nose captures the pheromones that the opposite body secretes and if it considers it a good candidate to mate then it is pleasant”
"I think it's just the shampoo," you laughed. You turned your head up a bit and Spencer, by inertia, turned down to meet your gaze. "Although I wouldn't need to sniff you to know if I wanted to mate with you”
The joke had been so natural that you didn't measure the weight of the words until they left your mouth, and the worst thing was that the position you were in hadn’t been the most appropriate. You could feel his breath mixing with yours and it was enough to get a little closer to melt your lips in a kiss.
You had put yourself in that situation, as if your body was unconsciously looking for his own, and Spencer hadn't refused at any time. Just like how no one had forced you to stay with him all this time and you still had.
Your boss had been too permissive with the situation during that time, but you were sure that she would no longer be so if more time passed, so you would have to return to the office the next morning. And Spencer had at most two more days before the doctor released him.
And what difference did it make if you kissed him at that moment? Would you ever get a chance to do that again? You didn't have to think about it too much, because he was the one who started closing the distance; an inch, then another, until you felt your lips brush against each other. And he would have kissed you if it hadn't been for the unwelcome ringing of a cell phone that made you jump away.
"It's... yours" you stammered, handing him the old artifact that announced Penélope García's contact calling him.
While he was having a conversation, you didn't even look at him, but started packing your things spread out around the room so you could get out of there as quickly as possible. You could tell by the rush in the man's words that he could read your intentions and wished he could talk to you before you left.
"Everything's good. Thanks for calling, Garcia. Yeah, I love you too. Bye”
"Look the hour! I have to go, I'll go back to work tomorrow and I want to have everything in order" you said as soon as he hung up the call, waving your hands in the air as you spoke as a sign of your nervousness "I'll try to come back tomorrow, but... I don't know if work let me"
“Okay, you've already done too much. I'm fine now,” he assured you, giving a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile. Even though you wanted to say something the words didn't come out of your mouth, so you just raised your hand to say goodbye and then you rushed out of there.
All the way home your mind was busy processing the feelings that almost kiss had evoked in you and, to be honest, they all ended in the same thing: the wish that he had cut the distance completely. That desire followed you when you showered, when you went to sleep, when you woke up, and all through the workday the next day. Minute after minute your mind could only think about him and what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted by that call.
As you had feared, you didn’t have time to visit him at night and since you didn’t find the courage to call him personally, you only asked the hospital to pass on the message. You intended to see him a day after that, figuring that the matter would have been forgotten, but your plans were thwarted when Spencer called you to say that they had just authorized his medical discharge. He sounded calm and, of course, happy, when he told you that an ambulance was going to take him to his apartment.
"That's wonderful" you answered honestly. You were sitting at your work desk sorting out some documents, so you held your phone between your ear and your shoulder.
“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did. For all. I… I don't know what he would have done without you here. And you didn't have to, but you still did it. So, thanks"
"I already told you before, you don't have to thank me for anything"
"But I'd still like to," he murmured firmly, "Would you let me buy you dinner sometime?"
You were silent for a second, honestly confused by what he was asking. I mean, you knew what he was inviting you to, but you didn't know why. 
"Dinner?"
“Well, it's the least I can do for you. I have to use crutches for a while again, so we couldn't go out to a fancy restaurant or anything. It would just be us in my apartment, do you still like Italian food? Rossi taught me a great recipe and I think I cook decent enough.”
“Ah… yes, I would love to” you stammered. You thought that after his recovery you would not speak again and things would return to how they were before; but apparently Spencer had other plans.
"How about Saturday?"
“Sounds perfect to me” you breathed out, still a bit surprised and quite nervous about the proposal you just received. Even if it was merely friendly, you were happy to know that he still wanted your company.
Perhaps you had been too hard on him and on yourself by not allowing things to just follow their natural flow, holding onto the misconception that you and Spencer Reid no longer had romantic feelings for each other.
"I'll meet you here then, do you still remember how to get there?"
“If you have the same address, then I still do it”
"Good. I was just calling to ask you that. I guess you're busy working."
"Only a little"
"Well, I'll let you do it. Thanks for accepting"
"Thank you for inviting me"
You guys were silent for a moment and you wondered if Spencer was smiling the same way you were.
"Bye," he said kindly and after saying goodbye you hung up.
You were left smiling like a fool at the idea that your first date in a long time would be with the only man who years ago had been capable of stealing your heart and after taking a few minutes to process it you went back to your work, but not before pointing with circle the date on your calendar, like a teenager in love.
When the day finally came you made sure to look for a nice outfit before your dinner with him, holding yourself back from looking too excited. You rarely wore dresses but, if your memory serves you, he really liked how you looked in them, so you made sure to look for one that would accentuate your figure and make you look more youthful. You carefully combed your hair, put on just a little makeup, and came on your way to buy a bottle of wine. You still remembered the information that he had told you about which wines were best suited for each meal and although you still didn’t know about dinner, you brought a bottle that it presumed to be Italian.
When you reached number 23 on the second floor, you knocked on the door and after hearing a couple of noises, he finally appeared in front of you.
"Hey!" he greeted you happily. He was using his old crutches, had shaved off the facial hair that had appeared during his hospital stay, and was wearing a black apron with white lettering, which Garcia had surely given him, and which read: Kiss the cook. Please I'm very lonely “Come in, come in” 
"How are you?" you asked, stepping into the apartment and greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“I’m okay, dinner is almost ready. I had technical complications because I didn't consider that cooking with crutches is more difficult than doing it without them, so I just hope it tastes good" he complained, moving deftly through the apartment to the kitchen "Sit down, I'll join you in a moment"
When he got lost in the kitchen you took the opportunity to take a look at the place. He kept having piles of books both on the shelves and stacked on the floor, on his desk, next to the chair. There were a couple of new artworks on the green wall along with the ones you'd helped him choose in the past, and picture frames everywhere: him with his mom, several with his co-workers (old and new). and you were surprised to see that even you had a space. The frame was smaller than the others, maybe to make it more discreet, but it was carefully arranged on the shelf that, by chance, or perhaps not, contained many of the books that you had given him.
"Do you need help with something?" you half screamed, hearing the crash of some pots and he denied in the same way. The air smelled delicious and your stomach rumbled with anticipation. After a few minutes Spencer was with you, both sitting in the brown leather chair where you had spent so many afternoons together.
“You just have to wait for it to cool down a bit and we can have dinner”
"I brought a wine" you murmured as you handed him the bottle. He examined it and congratulated you on your choice, telling you that it would go perfectly with the pasta he had prepared. "Are you still taking any medication?"
"Not anymore. The doctor prescribed me some things for the pain, but… I'm not taking them” he said, with a guilty smile on his face “I like your dress, by the way”
Hearing this, a satisfied smile spread across your face and you modestly thanked him for the compliment.
As he said, dinner was ready in a few minutes and you accompanied him to the dining room to serve a couple of dishes. Spencer seemed to have put an effort into everything, as he looked really exquisite and you didn't hesitate to compliment him on it even before trying it on. Dinner remained pleasant, with a couple of laughs, jokes and a flirtatious look that sometimes you weren't even aware of. Now that he had gotten rid of the apron, you could see that he was wearing a purple button-down shirt that you had always liked on him, because it fit in all the right places to make him look gorgeous. Besides, that color had always favored him.
Once you were finished, you offered him a drink of wine and he agreed, listing the digestive benefits the drink had for you. He asked if you wanted to go into the living room to be more comfortable and then both of you walked to the rickety chair, taking the bottle with you. Within a very short time the liquid in it was almost completely finished and both he and you became gigglier.
Unfortunately for you, with the laughter that came, your self-control also left. Every time he spoke you couldn't help but let your gaze slide to his lips, a little to be able to correctly understand the words that came out of it and another little just to be able to appreciate the pink color they had; they still looked soft, and you wondered if they would feel soft. 
You didn't know Spencer was aware of the struggle you had inside of you, as he kept talking, laughing, and just looking so handsome while you fell apart. After a couple of minutes, you couldn't resist it anymore. Your body was vibrating with the desire to have him, maybe because of the alcohol in your blood or maybe because he looked strangely attractive when he rambled on about his PhD research.
“Spencer” you stopped him suddenly. He looked at you with a hint of concern for having overwhelmed or bored you with his talk about him and you thought he couldn't look cuter that way.
"What's wrong?" he started to say, but the question was drowned out by your lips trapping his.
You kissed him fast but deep and all the weight of guilt fell on your shoulders when you looked at his reaction; he kept not looking at any specific point and breathing heavily through his mouth, totally petrified by what you just did.
"Sorry, I don't know why I did that" you stammered. You regretted it just because you made him uncomfortable, not because you didn't want to kiss him “I messed it up, didn't I? Are you mad at me?" you wanted to know, panicked, but now it was your words that were cut off by a kiss.
He wasted no time and taking advantage of your shock one of his hands came up to hold your cheek, while he leaned more in your direction. His lips tasted of wine and nostalgia, they tasted of an overflowing love that you had finally agreed to continue feeling for each other.
He kissed you so hungrily that he was making you completely dizzy and you only separated when it was absolutely necessary to breathe, repeating kiss after kiss. He lowered his other hand to your waist to try to get you closer and you, reflexively, climbed onto his lap. It was then that you guys really looked at each other; wet lips, messy hair, hot pink painted cheeks and completely agitated breathing.
"Uh, I..."
"It was too much?" you said fearful. His hands had automatically gone up to your waist, since that position was already quite familiar to him, and yours were on his shoulders.
"No, no. I mean… only if this is okay with you”
You could have told him you were sorry, but that would be a lie. You loved being so close to him, you loved that you finally had your courage, and you loved that he cared about what you wanted. And you were going to tell him, that's for sure.
"I am telling you the truth?" you gasped, carefully holding his face to force him to look you straight in the eye. They were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen: "Right now all I can think about is how much I need you"
No more words were needed for what happened next. You melted into a kiss again and when you pressed your hip against his, he sighed against your mouth, feeling his crotch suffer the consequences of the heated kisses you were giving him. For a moment he wanted to feel sorry, but he knew better than anyone that you already knew perfectly every inch of his body and from the smile he felt on his lips he suspected that you were enjoying the heat in that area more than you should. It was satisfying to see that you still had that kind of power over him, where you barely touched him and he was already a mess. But you couldn't speak more highly of yourself, because when his hands went to your hips you felt like putty between his fingers.
"You want to…?" he started to say, but your insistence on kissing him barely left him thinking "Do you want us to go to my room?"
Spencer was afraid he was going too fast and scaring you with it, but he couldn't find another way to interpret the result of what you were doing. He just wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.
"Yeah, I think so" you answered in a whisper.
You got up from your seat and took his hand intending to help him up, until the crutches next to the sofa reminded you of the man's physical condition. Spencer looked at the hesitation in your eyes, but he didn't give you time to back down, because in one quick movement he was on his feet and crossing to the door that led to his room, ignoring any kind of pain he might feel.
Once there, he sat on the bed and pulled you towards him to continue kissing you. None of you bothered to turn on the light to continue what you were doing. You thought the position might strain him so you gently and carefully pushed him back to lay him flat on the bed. This allowed him to better knead the soft meat on your thighs and you rewarded him with enthusiastic kisses on his neck.
You separated a little until you were sitting on his hip and then you undid the buttons of his shirt. You made sure to gently kiss the wounds he had made and Spencer just sighed with each touch of your lips. A little needy to kiss you, he also stretched out his hands to your dress, asking with his eyes for your consent to lower the zipper and get rid of it.
The dress was left tossed somewhere in the room and you leaned in just enough for him to smear kisses down your shoulders and across your chest. You could tell that he was taking his time and that only increased your desire to have him, to feel him inside you and make you his as he had done so many times.
  “Y/N” he whispered against your mouth and you just hummed a nod “Darling, can you help me take off my pants?”
The nickname had come so naturally from his lips and had sounded so delicious that you had to suppress a groan. He called you that all the time, he was a very vocal man and it wasn't uncommon to hear him say those kinds of things. Both in bed and out of it. 
You did exactly what he asked and you took the opportunity to slowly pass your hand over the bulge in his crotch, hearing him let out the first moan of the night.
“Hey, do you have a… uh, some protection?” you asked timidly. You loved him and trusted him, but a baby wasn’t what you needed; at least not at that time.
"In the usual drawer"
As if no time had passed, you rummaged with your hand in the left side of the second drawer in the nightstand, until you found what you were looking for. Sudden and unwarranted jealousy swept over you as you wondered if he had invited other women to spend the night and if those others could find things as naturally as you had. No one knew Spencer as you did, you were sure of it, because he wasn't a man who opened up easily to others. And no matter how many people had passed through your life, no one would understand you as much as he did. 
Once you put the condom on, you took the opportunity to pump it up and down with your hand and the man's whining made you realize that he had really missed you. Both of you were trembling with anticipation, so with one movement you discarded your missing items and climbed back into his lap. Still a little fearful you looked at him and even in the middle of the darkness you realized the loving eyes on you.
“If it hurts just tell me and I'll stop. I know you're still delicate and I don't want to hurt you.”
"You would never hurt me" he answered and although you wanted to believe that they were limited to his injuries from the accident, you knew that it wasn’t so.
Those words carried more weight than you thought. They were a vote of confidence that he gave you over your entire person, not only his physical condition, but also his feelings and desires.
When you became one you groaned in unison and took a moment to get used to each other again. Your movements became soft, constant, and deep and he, unable to do more, just enjoyed that feeling.
After a few minutes, things went beyond the physical plane you were on; you realized that no one, ever, could make you feel what he did. You felt complete, whole and loved. You loved to hear everything that came out of his mouth and respond with an even more obscene sound. You loved that he knew the right points to touch and when to do it, you loved that he looked for your kisses in the middle of the act and you loved that being with him everything became so passionate and intimate. At that moment it was just him and you, no one else. As it always should have been.
After a while both bodies were already covered by a fine layer of sweat and your hands, small compared to his, leaned on his biceps to be able to move better against him.
"I missed this so much" you confessed, your voice muffled by uncontrollable moans "I missed you so much, you don't know how much I did"
He wanted to answer you, but the truth was that for the first time he had run out of words. He could only feel your body pressed against his and your boobs bouncing with each thrust.
There were certain gestures, movements, and sounds that told Spencer when you were about to arrive, so when he heard your erratic breathing and sensed your hesitation, he placed both hands on your hips to help you keep up.
At some point you felt the knot in your belly forming and you just let yourself be guided by it, anxious to feel the ecstasy exploding in you. It was enough to feel your walls pressing against him, your loud moans and a couple more pushes for Spencer to reach his own orgasm, wishing that the hot liquid had filled you instead of the barrier that protected you.
Your body fell against his, completely surrendered, and you felt his chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath. One of his arms, still clad in his shirt, slid around your waist and his lips groped for your forehead to place a small kiss. You were exhausted, but at the same time overflowing with joy, and he shed a single tear. Maybe because he had had a good orgasm in a long time or maybe because of the overwhelming reality that you had just made love to him.
For a few minutes you stayed like that, so peaceful and calm that you feared falling asleep in his arms.
“Y/N” he whispered, your name slipping from his lips so softly you thought you misheard.
"Yeah?" you inquired in a whisper. You two had always liked to talk for a bit after the sex rush wore off, as a way to keep things romantic.
"Risking to ruin the moment, can I ask you something?" he murmured and you rearranged yourself to face him to watch him. He looked so handsome, with dilated pupils and a flushed face, that you thought you might take him again right then.
"Whatever you want," you replied, gently brushing back the hair that had stuck to his sweaty face. You were drunk with love, he could have asked you to lower the moon and you would have done it without hesitation.
"What did this mean to you?" he added cautiously. You knew better than anyone that Spencer needed a certain security in things as well as people. The question would come eventually, though you thought you would have more time to think of an answer that would suffice. “It's okay if you say you just felt like doing it or that it was something that happened in the moment, I understand. I just... I don't want to get the wrong idea."
“And what would that wrong idea be?” you asked curiously. Suddenly he had become shy and just avoided your gaze without knowing how to respond to that, but you took him by the chin to force him to pay attention to you "Spence?"
“I don't want to have any illusions about you. If you don't see something in the future with me, that's fine, but at least I'd like to know."
They were not aggressive or demanding accusations; they were just sincere words with which he sought to protect his heart.
"I honestly don't know what's going to happen to us," you replied. A disappointed expression came over his face and you took him by surprise when you reached up a bit to kiss him again, but this time reassuringly and gently "But today I realized that you are perfect for me, in all the senses. And that I can never love someone like I love you. Does that answer your question?"
“I guess I feel the same way” he replied, but this time he was smiling slightly “And I know that we should have ended a long time ago, but… if your heart agrees, I think I'd like to start over. We were both in a bad situation back then, but now things could be different."
And of course they were going to be, because a part of you was convinced. You loved him, you had admitted it, and you knew he felt the same way about you. That was enough.
"I guess you're right. As always, Dr. Reid” you laughed, hearing his melodious laughter as well.
"For once, that makes me happy" he confessed and almost a second after that you heard him let out a weak moan that made you aware that you were pressing your chest against his still-fresh scars.
But to be honest, any previous signs of pain had been dwarfed by the pleasure of your body grinding against his.
"Maybe I should move" you apologized, but when you tried to, he didn't let you, instead tightening his grip on his arm against you.
"Don't do it” he begged you "Stay here just a little while longer"
For him, you could stay your whole life if he asked you to. Now you were sure of that. He was sure of that.
And now that you two had it back, you weren't going to let it go.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14
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baconpal · 26 days
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VOID STRANGER
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kirnet · 1 month
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what if Dora Lange haunted Rust Cohle?
True Detective Original Scripts //True Detective (2014) // An Inhabitant of Carcosa, Ambrose Bierce // Disco Elysium (2019) // The King in Yellow, Robert W. Chambers // Excerpts from "Duned", Natalie Diaz // Earthmover, Have a Nice Life // Ptolemaea, Ethel Cain // Medicine, Gustav Klimt (destroyed 1945) // my art
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fresh-bag-of-ham · 2 months
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if i had written a story about a woman who was radicalized to socialism by the sight of blind beggar children. while traveling with a fuckboy who was gambling away all their money. and someone adapted that story. and changed it so that it was the woman who lost all the fuckboy's gambling winnings. when she was scammed like an idiot while trying to give that money to the blind beggar children. i can only speak for myself. but i might rise from the grave and tear that person limb from limb
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can we talk about the katniss/lucy gray parallels (or lack thereof) for a sec?
they're superficially the same, because of the things we talk about all the time: they're both female victors from 12. there are things that come with that culture and background -- the mockingjay, the plants, the songs. those similarities aren't so much between them as people, as individuals -- they're born of coming from the same culture. the most significant thing they share is their resilience; their spirit of resistance and rebellion. their defiance.
but really, all those things they share, only serve to demonstrate just how different they are as individuals (because personality is different from upbringing or values).
we parallel their sarcastic bows, but they're so so different. lucy gray is a performer mockingly curtseying and saying "kiss my ass", where katniss is a hunter who doesn't have time for this society bullcrap.
they both sing the hanging tree, but as i've ranted about, their renditions show how different they are: lucy gray, again, a performer with a spirit unbroken, loud and charming and sassing right to the capitol's face, daring them to defy her, daring them to look away. katniss, again, a hunter, quiet but unyielding, sparking rebellion under the capitol's nose.
they both won their games, but in such different ways. lucy gray charmed the snakes (both literal and in the form of one coriolanus snow), while katniss threw down with weaponry.
lucy gray said look at me, care about me. katniss said fight for me, fight with me.
and so what we see is that they are not at all the same person, but that's what's so important. because it's not just one person or one type of person that puts their foot down and rebels. we don't need a specific kind of Chosen One to light the spark -- anyone can.
#seriously. why am i so invested.#I DON'T EVEN GO HERE#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#lucy gray baird#katniss everdeen#thg meta#anyways i do believe somewhere in the multiverse there's a timeline where lucy gray /does/ spark the rebellion#(in a deeper and more immediate way)#like. look at the way the capitol had to erase her. (and not just because snow was a salty scorned ex.)#there's a universe where she's too popular for the records to really be erased. where she becomes a celebrity and#gains a platform and a network and /access/. where she flexes those snake-charming skills on the capitol.#there's a universe where she sways coryo a little more thoroughly. where she's ripped from him by the capitol#and it radicalizes him. doesn't make him a good person or less of a ruthless player in the game. but one with different goals.#there's a universe where she doesn't have coryo there to cheat for her. in that one she can't hold the snakes off forever.#she dies in the arena. there is no victor and no hope. there is nothing but love for a girl who should've survived.#in this universe the people revolt because the capitol has grown to love her and the districts see nothing to lose.#there's a universe where she survives and gains the respect of all the academy students. children are the future.#this is how the capitol loses control.#there's a universe where lucy gray sticks around in 12 past the music ban. in this universe she'll write quiet songs of rebellion.#she'll run. not out of panem but within it. she will be a singing ghost starting fires throughout a country fractured.#ANYWAYS. I WILL STOP.
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bonefall · 8 months
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what’s Bright Storm like? Since she didn’t get fridged like every woman in the original dotc series
She was always curious and dependable. Bright Storm's the kind of gal who would give you the shirt off her back if she wore a shirt to give you!
Long before they set off on the Sun Trail, she would occasionally confide in Clear Sky how much she wanted to see the world. Travelers aren't unheard of; this was before the Tribe split into its 3 separate Wards and welcomed a lot of comers and goers, but it's not that no one had ever left before. It was more that she had friends and family she was committed to.
Clear Sky pressured her into it, reminding her of how much they'd see, how they'd raise their kits somewhere new, and that he'd be sad and alone forever if she didn't come. Every chance he got, he was bringing it up. He was always her weakness, she hated letting him down.
Her dependability was based on how good of a listener she was, even Gray Wing the Wise appreciated it. She was always keeping an eye out for people's wants and needs, making connections between little 'tips' she'd heard from one source or another. After Gray Wing's death, she found herself in demand for this ability.
She couldn't make a plan quite AS good as xem, but she was better at making a plan into a 'group project.' She'd brainstorm and encourage everyone to join in, putting their brains together until it all fell into place. She could be good at delegating authority based on it, too, though Tall Shadow had much more confidence than her.
And really it's her confidence that holds her back, and can you blame her?
She tried to keep Jagged Peak alive for a moon, but barely caught enough for herself, let alone him AND her unborn kittens. But how could she go back to the camp and just pretend he wasn't out here, dying?
When she goes shuffling back with her son in tow, it was humiliating, it was heartbreaking. It became soulcrushing when Clear Sky rejected her again. With just a few words, she doubted everything.
...was she capable of knowing if she was interpreting this sign correctly? ...had she done the right thing, or did she just make everything complicated? ...he's right, it must be her fault the other two died, if she hadn't--
Tall Shadow interrupted this thought spiral, but Clear Sky is like an infection in her mind. She'd tell you, in a moment of shame many years later,
"I wasn't strong enough to beat him. No no honey, I mean it like the truth. Clea-- Skystar now, he's powerful if nothing else, and he makes you believe it too. It's a special sort of person who can say no to that. I said a lot of his words before I even realized I still had his tongue in my mouth."
Bright doesn't realize how smart she is, because she's so smart she realizes how little she knows. And that can make her doubt herself. She's genuine and caring, but susceptible to more self-assured people making her doubt her own judgement.
But there's no one else Thunder Storm would rather have in his corner, that's for sure.
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konohamaru-sensei · 3 months
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felt like doing another @fairytail-redraw <3
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kowtownart · 1 year
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A verrrry Merry Christmas to my bestie, @disastrouslyyours !!
Gray’s gonna make you the nicest suit! (With the help of his little helpers of course!)
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skyscratch-wc · 5 months
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grayscale-blep · 4 months
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The Undertale brainrot is making me extremely silly rn
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rt3nenbaum · 4 months
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finally some new mark content <3 everyone thanks andrea for being the best <3
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years
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Summary: you can’t quit him
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: explicitly angsty
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, sex with an ex, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 1K
Lloyd Hansen Masterlist
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Rolling up to that familiar house, you want to kick yourself for ever thinking this was a good idea. Looking in the mirror to make sure no one is around. Your hands shaking, as you try to push away the nerves. The raw feeling of not wanting to be alone this evening.
Telling yourself that this was it. This would be the last time, but you doubt yourself. He was your drug that you couldn’t quit. And just when you thought you’d kicked the habit, you relapsed and found yourself on Lloyd’s doorstep.
Not even having to knock on the door, and he was pulling you inside. His own eyes checking to see if the nosey neighbors were seeing who he was pulling into his home.
The moment the door closes, the two of you are like a magnet. The pull clearly evident as your lips press against the others. Everything familiar and comforting, as you and Lloyd start the quick removal of each other’s clothes.
He pulls you closer to him, and your body arches into his. Running your fingers over his hair, and stupidly opening your eyes, and you see the hunger and desperation of his as he starts backing you down to the floor. No time for decorum, just a pure animalistic need to prove that you and him aren’t pure toxicity together.
Laying his body over yours, his hips keep your thighs spread wide, and you feel his hardening cock through his boxer briefs. Whimpering into his mouth, while you pull down his underwear. As old lovers do, his body reacts to your movements. Second nature, natural, and just seamless, as his cock drives into your cunt.
Both hands on his cheeks as you hold him to your face. His hips hypnotic as they stab into your needy cunt. Your body conforming to his perfectly, just like old times. And you ache for something simpler, when the two of you didn’t fight for dominance. The both of feeling like you were always right, and refused compromise. But this? The moment where the two of you connect was always magic.
Looking into his eyes like he was the only one important. Panting into each others mouths, and only seeing him. Only feeling him. Wishing that things were different.
Knowing that this back and forth was such a waste of time, but you yearned for him in a way that you didn’t understand. Needing to just get him and his body out of your system.
“This is the last time,” you whisper onto his neck. Wrapping your legs around him, you push him even closer to you. Balls deep inside of you, and you feel so full and just perfect.
“That’s what you said last night,” Lloyd’s voice heated and raspy as he ruts into you. Unknowing if he wants it to just be over. Try and quit you cold turkey. But the way he moves into you, the feeling of completion with the two of you becoming one, says he’s just as addicted as you are.
Entertaining the notion of one last time, every time. And maybe it was because he needed this hit just as bad as you did. Gripping your nails tightly on his back, you sigh up at him. Knowing there will only be one Lloyd Hansen. He was it, and you couldn’t make it work.
Whispering up his name breathily, you feel his hard exterior start to wilt. That arrogant smirk turning into completely longing for you. Changing his pace to a slow and deep roll, as he puts an arm around you; pulling you even closer to him. “You can’t quit,” he moans onto your skin. Feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you, and you hold on even tighter, “And I don’t want you to.”
“Don’t,” you warn him as you feel the heat build up in your stomach. His thrusts guiding you right to the edge. “I can quit when I’m ready.”
Seeing that glimmer in his eyes when they go glossy, makes you kiss on his neck. Now a fast and pounding pace. Gritting your teeth as your orgasm breaks free. His own body stuttering. Hot ribbons of his cum squirt into your womb, and your body goes limp. “I’m not in love with you,” you whisper at him.
“I am in love with you,” your eyes slowly drift close, and you cling to the sound of that sentiment. One of the things Lloyd never told you while you were together.
“I’m not hurting anybody.”
He leans back, sweat dripping around his hairline, and he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re killing me. So do I not count?”
“Lloyd, don’t do this. Not right now.”
He pulls himself out of you, and sits onto the floor. His face pointing at you, but his eyes look at anything but you, “We’re just going to hide under the covers and make love all night and pretend that I don’t love you. I love you when you stay and I love when you leave. It just hurts.”
When you sit un-answering he stands, holding a hand down to you. “That’s all you want? Another secret. Pretend that there’s no history, that I’m just a high when you need a hit?”
“Yes. Please. Please, do this for me.”
“This is your last time,” he extends his hand down to help you. Ready to start your night long binge of Lloyd Hansen.
“That’s what you said last time.”
“You’re my favorite drug, Buttercup. I wish you’d allow yourself to be more than that,” you can’t. You won’t. And still within a week or two, you know, you’re going to be right back here. The same song and dance. Both of you know how much you lie to yourselves, but also each other.
“I’m sorry, Lloyd.”
“Yeah…me, too.”
Masterlist
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Taglist:  @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida  @thedarkplume​ @duuhrayliegh​ @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands​ @harrysthiccthighss​  @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @sstan-hoe @randomagnes0210 @bambamwolf87 @whimsyplaty92 @feyfantome @buckysteveloki-me
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thisloveforyourmom · 5 months
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i'm mad at tbosas because people are doing exactly what i thought they'd do, which is to make snow's hatred of katniss and the districts about lucy gray and not about the fact that the upper class and power is secretly so fragile that even one person who refuses to look past injustice in the name of self-interest can start a ripple effect that topples it to the ground
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