#but theres just that voice in the back of my head

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[sexypantsriorson]

VIOLET IS SCARED OF THE DARK! BUT WHY? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

🚨 Spoilers for Fourth Wing and Iron Flame Below 🚨

When reading Fourth Wing one of the many times I've read it I noticed that Violet seemed scared of the dark on several occasions. However, the newest Xaden POV bonus chapter (Ch 27) solidified my crack theory that may mean nothing at all even further.

Fourth Wing:

⚡️Chapter 1: "The Captain nods and points to the open door into the turret. It looks ominously dark in there, and I fight the urge to run like hell."

-> This is the weakest evidence but I wanted to include it. Even though the majority of the fear probably stems from having to cross the parapet and going into the riders quadrant I can't help but notice how the darkness of the turret is pointed out in relation to her wanting to run away.

⚡️Chapter 19: "'Hope you're not afraid of the dark.' He pulls me inside, and suffocating darkness envelopes us as the door closes. This is fine. This is absolutely fine. 'But just incase you are,' Xaden says, his voice at full volume as he snaps. A mage light hovers above our head, Illuminating our surroundings. 'Thanks'"

-> side note: as Nicole from FFG would say ITALICS! Is this a Xaden intinsic moment or is this similar to Ch 27 where he senses her fear down their bond?

⚡️Chapter 27 from Violet's POV: "Xaden lifts a hand a few inches above the table, and shadows pour from underneath our seats, filling the room and turning it dark as midnight in a blink. My heart jumps as my sight goes black."

⚡️Chapter 27 from Xaden's POV: "I lift my palms just enough to clear the table and summon the cooling darkness of the shadows. They stream out from under the table and blanket the room in less than a heartbeat, devouring all traces of light. Panic skitters down the silver bond."

Iron Flame:

⚡️Chapter 36: "He steps forward, raises his arms, and shadows rush in from the wall at our backs, engulfing the formation - and us - in complete darkness. Theres a glimmer of a caress across my cheek, right where it's split to what feels like the bone, and more than one cadet screams."

-> The structure of the first sentence, the emphasis on 'and us' is what clued me into the fear in this chapter. And once again Xaden, who is also the source of the darkness, uses the shadows to comfort her. Based on Ch 19 and Ch 27 of Fourth Wing he likely knows she's scared of the dark at this point.

Noooowwwwww - What does all this mean? Well.... I have no idea!

As mentioned before it might mean nothing at all. Rebecca might have just thrown it in there as a quirky personality trait of Violet's. I personally just don't think that's the case.

According to a study done by John Mayer (the clinical psychologist, not the singer) only 11% of adults in the US are scared of the dark. So, its not that common of a fear. Also the amount of times it's brought up throughout the two books we've had so far makes me think it might be significant.

On July 8th Rebecca Yarros and Red Tower Books released a joint Instagram reel with a small video showing the cover of Onyx Storm for the first time. The caption has the tag line "Are you ready to BRAVE THE DARK?" written just like that with 'brave the dark' in all caps. 'Brave the Dark' is also written on the cover of the book in the same way 'Fly or Die' and 'Burn it Down' was used as a tag line of FW and IF respectively. This is another one of the most prominent reasons I think that these allusions to Violets fear of the dark are more than just a basic character trait. In each of the scenes mentioned (with the exception of chapter 1) Xaden comforts Violet in the darkness. Furthermore, if you search 'dark' in the FW ebook there are over 80 occurrences of the word and almost all of them are in relation to Xaden (I couldn't search IF because I don't have the ebook). We know that OS is going to focus on Violet trying to find a cure for Xaden. Is Xaden part of this darkness Violet is scared of?

The Empyrean Series is my current hyper fixation so I couldn't get this spiral out of my head since yesterday.

Please weigh in on what you think Violets fear of the dark means or where it comes from! I'd love to hear other peoples opinions. Also, if you know of any scenes I missed where Violet is scared of the dark please let me know.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk TairnTalk. (I stole that from someone else but I can't remember who said it first but credit to them you are hilarious).

[rockermybuddie]

Make up

Tommy x Evan “Buck”

Summary: After a week of avoiding each other after an bad argument Tommy shows up to Evans apartment to make up.

—————

Evan walks into his apartment exhausted after a long two days at work. He kind of wishes he could just fall into Tommys arms and crash but he’s refusing to be the first one to give in after his argument with Tommy, a week ago. Evan is always the first to forgive, this time its Tommys.

This week as been rough on him but he’s managing.

Evan walks into the bathroom and takes a shower to wash away all the dirt and sweat from work. When he gets out he wraps a towel around his waist and walks into the kitchen to start making dinner.

Theres a knock at his door, he furrows his brows trying to think of who that could be. He walks over to the door and looks through the peep hole to see who is there since hes only wearing a towel.

To his surprise its Tommy. Evan opens the door and Tommys eyes immediately drop to Evans stomach that has droplets of condensation it and the towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Tommy? What are you doing here?” Evan asks like hes not excited that his boyfriend is here. “I came here to talk.” Tommy finally says forcing his eyes back up to Evans face. Not that did anything different because his eyes went directly to Evans mouth that he so badly wants to make out with.

Evan steps aside letting Tommy walk into the apartment. He locks the door before going back to the kitchen to get something to eat or maybe to just act casual like hes not waiting for the words “i’m sorry” to come out of Tommys mouth.

Tommy stands on the other side of the table watching Evan move around the kitchen. He hasnt seen him in a week, Tommy didnt think Evan would last a day without seeing him but when Evan never walked back through his door he was kind of shocked but proud that Evan is finally holding his side without folding first.

“So i was thinking about our argument.” Tommy says breaking the silence. “Oh, you did?” Evan says without looking up at Tommy. “Yeah, you are right. I overstepped at Eddies and i’m sorry.” Tommy says. Evan stops what hes doing and looks up and across to Tommy just standing there, hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels to his toes.

“But you were so confident…” Evan began to speak but Tommy cut him off. “Evan will you just accept my apology?” He asks. Tommys standing next to him now. Unsure of how he got next to him so fast.

“Yes.” Evan says as his eyes fall to Tommys lips. He can tell all Tommy wants right now is to kiss him. But he cant lie either hes been craving Tommys touch.

“Good.” Tommys voice was deep his lips connecting to Evans immediately and his tounge making its way into his not too long after.

Evan moves his hands to the bottom seam of Tommys shirt as he begins to pull it up over his head, only breaking their kiss so the shirt could come off.

Their lips crash against each again as Tommy pushes Evan back against the counter. The cold surface on his back sending shivers up his spine.

Tommy pulls off Evans towel revealing his bulging dripping cock. “Miss me?” Tommy tease as his hand wraps around it causing a small whimper to escape Evans mouth.

Evan feels Tommys strong chest and hard nipples as Tommy jerks him off. Eventually Tommy pants come off and he’s dripping with cum already.

He flips Evan around and bends him over on the counter, he grabs the lube from the drawer. He doesn’t know why Evan has this in his kitchen but it doesn’t matter right now.

Tommy lubes himself up and puts some on his fingers. He shoves his fingers inside Evan as he grabs the edge of the counter.

Tommy pulls out his fingers and slaps Evans bare ass before shoving himself into him. He couldn’t wait any longer, hes been craving this for a week.

Tommys hand cover Evans mouth when he lets out a loud scream. “Shhhh its midnight people are sleeping.” Tommy grunts out. Since they are at Evans apartment and not Tommys house they need to be quiet. Evan isn’t really good at that when it comes to this.

“Touch me.” Evan begs putting his forehead to the cold counter top. Tommys hand wraps around the base of his cock and makes its way to the head as he takes in Tommy from behind.

Moments later they both finish leaving a sticky slimy mess in Tommys hand and down Evans back. Tommy grabs the towel from Evans shower and wipes him off before washing his hands in the sink.

Tommy turns around and sees a more exhausted Evan then the one he saw when he arrived. “Come on lets go to bed.” Tommy scoops up Evan with ease and carrys him up the stairs to the bed.

Evan was more than happy to be carried, he didnt think he would be able to walk anyways, he could barley stand. The only thing holding him up was the counter.

Tommy laid Evan down on the bed, didnt bother putting clothes on him that would be too much work. He crawled in bed next to him spooning him as he felt Evan drift off asleep. He placed a gentle kiss to the back of his head even though it was a bit damp from the sweat.

Everything is how it should be now.

———

A/n: This was my first i guess smutty fanfic i’ve ever posted so forgive me if it was cringey, im not good at smut lol. I’m reading more fanfics for inspiration and to learn how to be a better writer.

[alixlives]

i am just like

not ok

[ratatatastic]

"Funny enough I—like, if street hockey, ministicks, I always wanted to be a goalie too! Like, for some reason I always wanted to go in net. You know, probably because of [my Dad] and then, um, you know, once you get dinged a couple times and the shots get too hard you realise—then it's not so much fun after all so... Yeah, it was great he'd always—" "You probably wanted to be goalie 'cuz you're fucking crazy, man! Those guys are bananas! I actually went as a goalie in morning skate one time when I was suspended in the coast, and it was the scariest thing ever, bro. It's nothing like blocking a shot because you're literally just standing there, and these guys are shooting right at you. It's unbelievable!" "Yeah! You gotta get in the way of the stuff to save it! That's crazy! I know, and like obviously gear is like great and they don't really feel—but there is, like, that psychological thing going on where, like, you know, you wanna move out of the way 'cuz it's gonna hurt! I get—I mean, it must not hurt that much, like, 'cuz Bob's crazy, man! Bob loves taking—Well, I wouldn't say loves taking it off the head, but he doesn't hate it, like he—" "Feels good?" "You know, every once in a while—they hit him in the head and you go up and say sorry he's like, 'No, no! It's all good! I love it, I love it!!' and like, kind-of shoos you away so."

The Buzz Pod | 8.7.24 (x)

so speaking of banking pucks off bobbys head and how much he loves it flashback to that day in october of 23 where bobby was doing that for practise and managed to rope in matthew to the shenanigans to the utter confusion of everyone involved (x)(x)(x)(x)

[gaygirldoodles]

In my JD era

[creativebrainrot]

'self shipping is cringe 11!!!!!!'

all of mental health care and experiences is the dumbest fuckoff thing in the world, i do not draw the line at imagining Hot Fictional Man giving me a littel kith making me want to kill myself less. my entire life has been 'well i want to see my cat tomorrow' 'i dont want to make my dad sad' 'i want to make friends one day' 'who knows maybe just maybe if i keep going a real guy will appear and do the things fictional man in my head does that i think about' if u have a slightly incorrect brain makeup u just cant feel HappyTM the experience of being in a randomly generated genetic vessel of flesh chemicals and bone is extremely stupid keep living for whatever makes you happy and if that is the thought of fictional character loving you then godspeed my friend

[mariemariemaria]

i feel kinda crazy bc whenever i was a teenager i created this sorta imaginary older big sister who had moved out of the house so in my head i could live w her whenever i wanted bc she had survived it all and was independent and she would also just comfort me in a big sisterly way whenever something bad or upsetting happened and recently ive been going back to that at my big age 😭 and its kinda sad and also just wish fulfillment and also kinda scary bc i really used to think that by my age i'd have everything sorted but i really don't and i know that's normal and nobodies twenties are perfect but some people also have good relationships w their fathers which is crazy just to think about sooo

[trans-gay-blob-of-slime]

Augh

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[grvntld]

i know it has been a while but i hv to let this out—my gosh im not ready for this pain jusq why naman kailangan mamatay yung grandpa sa story tapos bAkeht kaya talagang binasa ko pa every detail nung struggle sa ospital like?¿?¿?¿ why am i putting myself through this pain?¿?¿¿

[collgeruledzebra]

there is actually so little holding me back from starting to plan a bachelor cosplay right now

[ghoul-haunted]

and the way we hear d'artagnan yelling 'athos, can you hear me,' over the flames. poetic fucking cinema

[shivermewhiskerz]

.

//Venting in Tags:: TW Sewerslide and shit like that

[limerancy]

going into surgery tmrw

[finalexpenses]

ogugufjggg . slay the princess