#i only just recently got comfy with asking my own mother for a hug sometimes

[girlspecimen]

forreal tho how DOES one get more comfy w leaning on friends for support tho. mostly i just need hugs and human interaction but that feels like such an embarrassing baby thing to ask for

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part V (x reader)

Summary: Y/N meets Diana, and it goes better than she expected. Y/N meets the team, and it doesn’t go completely as planned. Spencer’s spidey senses are tingling. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 5k

Warnings/Includes: alcohol/drinking, reader gets drunk on accident and is incredibly insecure and self-deprecating, I think that’s it

a/n: Thank you all for your patience and kind words in this really sad and weird moment of my life. This couple brings me so much joy and I’m absolutely dreading the hurt that’s coming in the next part. Sorry in advance 😭 But also, you can re-read Lighthouse and First of Many before the angst!!!!!! If you haven’t read those fics, I recommend it because there are some relevant connections. ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

Y/N felt his hands sneaking around her waist, rubbing low over her tummy, and then the press of his warm body along her back. She tilted her head to make room for him to settle his chin on her shoulder, smiling as his hands completed their journey and wrapped her up tight.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she answered, pressing their cheeks together.

“Are you almost done?”

“You made quite the mess, doctor.” It was the last weekend of Spencer’s sabbatical, and he had spent the afternoon cooking all of her favorite foods— a sort of preemptive gift for when he was back on the BAU’s unpredictable schedule. She’d taken on the responsibility of the dishes in return, which was no easy undertaking considering it seemed as though he’d used every single pot, pan, and utensil in her kitchen.

“If you’d let me help, you’d be done by now,” he complained, hugging her a little tighter and turning his head to drag his lips across her cheek.

“Let me just finish this pan, and then I’m all yours.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then another to the spot behind her ear, and one more to her shoulder. Then he propped his chin once more and rubbed his thumbs where they rested against her sides.

She laughed a little as she ran the dish brush along the edges of the pan. “Comfy?”

He hummed his confirmation, and she could feel his smile as she lathered the inside of the pan, then rinsed it, and finally drained the sink. She dried her hands on the kitchen towel and turned to face him. He didn’t remove his hands, instead just let them glide over her hips and then settle on her lower back.

“Thank you for all of that.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the fridge, packed full of leftovers. “My mom will be so honored to know you made her pot pie.”

“I could eat it every day for the rest of my life and be very, very happy.” He dropped his gaze and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Speaking of moms, I… I was wondering if you, um— if you’d want to meet my mom?”

Her eyes went a little wide, and he took her silence as an answer, continuing, “You don’t have to. It—it’s too soon.”

She brought a hand up to cup his chin between her fingers, bringing his eyes back to hers. “I would love to meet your mom.”

…

Spencer shut off the engine of the Volvo, turning in his seat to face her. She tried to settle her nerves without also spurring his own anxiety, which had been quite obviously flaring all morning.

“I’ll check in and visit for a few minutes, try to gauge what kind of a day it is, and then I’ll text you to come in or not.” He ran a hand over his face. “I really should have had you drive separate, because if it’s not a good day I don’t want you to have to wait around while I visit with her, but she’s been having a lot of good days recently, and—”

“Honey.” She found his hands where they were clutching a little aggressively at his leg and covered them with her own, running her thumbs soothingly along his skin. “It’s okay. Either way— whether I meet her today or we wait for a better day— it’s okay.”

He closed his eyes and breathed a relieved sigh. “Have I told you how much I love you yet today?”

“Mm, I don’t think you have,” she smiled.

He brought her hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of each. “I love you so much. The most.”

“I beg to differ.” She leaned over the console and kissed his nose. “I definitely love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He shifted to meet her lips in a quick kiss. “I’ll text you in a few minutes?”

She gave him another kiss. “Sounds like a plan.”

Spencer dropped the keys into her hand and then climbed out of the car, closing the door and practically trotting toward the building. She would have laughed if it weren’t for the raging anxiety that was nearly suffocating her. She opened her door and put her legs out the side of the car, taking a deep breath and looking out over the parking lot.

Y/N knew that meeting Diana was a good thing. That Spencer wanted her to meet the most important woman in his life was a testament to their relationship. But the closer she got to it, the more she felt completely and totally out of place. What did she have to offer this woman’s remarkable son other than a mountain of student loan debt, an endless supply of expo markers, and an ever growing collection of toilet paper rolls?

She loved teaching kindergarten, and she was the first to defend the profession in most settings. But she was about to be in a room with two of the most brilliant minds on the planet, and she couldn’t help but wonder what she would possibly have to contribute. More than that, what would Diana Reid think of her son settling for someone so… ordinary?

Her phone buzzed with the incoming text message, and she bit back a sigh.

Spencer: It’s an incredible day. She’s already asking about you.

Y/N turned her face up to the clear blue sky, feeling the sun on her face and taking a deep breath. Then, she hoisted herself out of the vehicle, locking it and turning to walk toward the building. DC was hot and sticky this time of year, and she was grateful for the blast of air conditioning as she entered the facility.

The woman at the front desk— Suzanna, by her name tag— smiled kindly at her. “How can I help you?”

“I’m, um— I’m here to visit with Diana Reid.” Y/N began signing into the visitor’s log, smiling a little at Spencer’s hasty signature right above. “Her son is here, too— Spencer.”

“Ah, yes, you must be Y/N. Diana’s been so excited to meet you.” Suzanna chuckled lightly at her expression, and Y/N wondered just how much everyone already knew about her. “They’re just through there— in the sunroom.”

Y/N mumbled her thanks and turned in the direction of the sunroom, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from the skirt of her dress. She’d spent far too long getting ready this morning, including steaming the dress— a simple number with a black bodice and a skirt covered in books. It was her own personal nod to the incredible legacy that Diana had left— not only as a professor of classic literature, but also as the mother of the most incredible reader— and man— she’d ever met.

And now she had a moment of panic, wondering if maybe it was too on the nose, or if Diana would think it was silly and immature. She briefly considered turning and heading back out to the parking lot, but then Spencer appeared in the doorway to the sunroom, waving his thanks to Suzanna and then positively beaming at her . How could she deny him this?

He held out his hand to her, and she accepted it, instantly more at ease from the simple touch. He pulled her gently into the room, and there was Diana, perched on a floral sofa and looking quite elegant in a soft purple shawl.

She stood immediately, an absolutely radiant smile stretching across her face at the sight of them. Y/N watched as she clasped her hands in front of her and felt Spencer squeeze her hand at the same time.

“Y/N,” Diana smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Y/N returned her smile. “It is such an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Reid.”

She scoffed and waved her hand. “Just Diana, please.” Y/N saw the moment she noticed the dress, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. “I can already tell you’re perfect for my son: the lover of books.” She motioned to the seating area. “Come, sit.”

The three of them sat, Spencer in the armchair just across from them as she and Diana sat on the sofa. Y/N folded her hands in her lap and tried to straighten her posture. Diana leaned back against the couch with a smile.

“I really have heard a lot about you,” she repeated, sliding her eyes over to a blushing Spencer. “Spencer tells me you teach kindergarten.” Y/N nodded, and Diana shook her head. “I deeply admire the patience and energy you must have for that age group.”

Y/N laughed a little. “They can certainly be a handful. I hear you were a teacher as well.” Her eyes went a little wide at her mistake. “A professor, I mean.”

“Oh, yes, yes— 15th century literature.” Diana tilted her head, considering Y/N with a knowing gaze. “But teaching is teaching, no matter the age. And where would any of us be without our kindergarten teachers? The ones who teach us the very foundations of learning. Who not only teach us to read and write, but also to inquire and investigate and discover.”

Y/N felt unexpected tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she had to take a moment to breathe before speaking. “Thank you for saying that. Sometimes people assume that kindergarten is all play doh and finger paint.”

“What’s that saying about making assumptions?” Diana pondered.

“Issac Asimov said, ‘Assumptions are our windows on the world,’” Spencer offered.

“Mm, thank you for that, honey, but the one I’m thinking of is from an episode of The Odd Couple , I believe,” Diana corrected, winking at Y/N. “When you assume, you make an ass of you and me.”

“Ah.” Spencer held back a laugh, and Y/N’s heart felt just a little bit lighter.

Diana smiled brightly at her. “Your students must absolutely adore you.” Diana gestured vaguely to Spencer before continuing, “Spencer loved his kindergarten teacher— hm, Mrs. Hudson, was it?”

Spencer nodded in confirmation. Diana looked back to Y/N with a slightly mischievous grin. “His report cards always came back with the note that he was ‘helping’ the other students just a little too much— always the professor, even at five years old.”

Spencer let out an indignant squeak, and Y/N laughed. “My parents got a very similar note.” She gave Spencer a smile. “We just couldn’t help it, apparently.”

“I’m sure it didn’t help that he’d been reading for three years before he was even enrolled,” Diana mused. “Did he tell you that he originally considered studying the classics?” Y/N shook her head. “Well. When you’ve already read and discussed all the course material, it seems a waste of money, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, I suppose it does,” Y/N agreed.

“Oh,” Diana tapped Y/N’s arm affectionately before gesturing back to Spencer, “and then there was the time that he became so fixated on the idea of becoming a magician that he somehow managed to trap a rabbit in our backyard.”

“ Mom ,” Spencer choked out.

“Oh my. No, no— please go on,” Y/N begged, waving her hand dismissively in Spencer’s direction and leaning closer to Diana. “I need all the embarrassing stories.”

Diana let out a lilting laugh. “The poor thing spent the better part of a weekend in a storage bin while Spencer tried to figure out the top hat trick.”

Y/N turned to him with a bewildered grin. “The storage bin was well ventilated!” he defended. “And she had plenty of food and water.”

“Did you figure out the trick?” Y/N asked.

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “Mom found out about the rabbit before I could. And you need more than just the hat for the trick anyway.”

“We fed her one last carrot and then sent her back out to be with the rest of her bunny family, who must have been missing her dearly.” Diana winked at Y/N. “At least that’s what I had to tell six year old Spencer.”

“Rabbits are incredibly social and live in large colonies, so that actually was most likely the case,” Spencer supplied.

Diana smiled fondly at her son, and Y/N could practically feel the love radiating off of her. “Either way, I had one very sad little boy for the next week or so.” She turned back to Y/N. “We actually took a break from some of the more... advanced reading material so that I could read him The Tale of Peter Rabbit .”

“A classic in its own right,” Y/N said.

Diana nodded. “I’ve always said that children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and imaginative storytelling. We can learn a lot from Peter and Ferdinand.”

“I love Ferdinand!” Y/N gasped. “Gosh, that’s one of my all time favorite books. My mom read it to me when I was little, and I read it to my kids every year.”

Diana threw her hands up. “And that right there tells me everything I need to know about your teaching. Well— that and everything Spencer’s already gushed about, of course.”

The three of them spent the better part of the afternoon laughing and trading embarrassing childhood stories. Diana was even more lovely than she could have imagined, and Y/N was grateful to be so quickly accepted into the small but incredibly loving family unit.

Every so often, she would catch Spencer’s eyes on her— soft and content and practically sparkling— and her heart would leap into her throat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, letting Diana lead most of their side of the conversation, only chiming in here and there to offer context or defend himself in a particularly mortifying tale. Diana unwittingly (or perhaps purposefully) revealed just how much Spencer had spoken about her; she already knew about Y/N’s home, her family, and most of her interests.

Spencer may have been quiet, but he was also blushing profusely— caught in the act of being absolutely enamored with her. Y/N found that she didn’t know how to feel about that. She should be happy. She should be thrilled. And in some ways, she was. Being with Spencer had made her the happiest she’d been in a very long time— maybe ever.

It was the happiness that scared her.

She deserved happiness. That’s what Anita would tell her. But the way she felt with Spencer— comfortable, natural, easy — was the rising action. She was still anticipating the climax, the mountaintop, the apex of joy. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help it. She’d learned that every mountain had a valley, and the falling action always dragged her against every jagged stone on the way down. She never failed to plummet from the heights into the depths of where she’d learned to live, quiet and lonely and a little bit bruised.

This knowledge didn't stop her from soaking up every second of the highs.

“I’m starting to get a little tired,” Diana admitted. She reached across the couch and patted Y/N’s hand, squeezing gently, and then she looked to Spencer. “I start to— forget when I’m tired.”

The smile that had become almost permanent that afternoon faltered slightly, but he nodded and checked his watch. “Four hours is pretty good.”

She hummed. “They’ve been longer as of late.”

Y/N watched as his nose twitched. “Does Dr. Kincaid think that’s good or bad?”

Diana gave him a sympathetic smile. “She’s not sure.”

It was quiet for a long moment, and then Y/N stood. “Let me give you a minute together.” Diana stood as well, and Y/N clasped her hands together. “I don’t think I can articulate how incredibly happy I am to have finally met you. And I— I definitely don’t have the words to properly thank you for raising such a wonderful man.”

Diana took her hands, squeezing them gently before pulling her into a hug. Y/N returned the embrace, and Diana murmured, “Thank you for loving him. Through the highs and the lows.”

Y/N blinked back tears for the second time that day, nodding into Diana’s shoulder and hugging her tightly.

With a final squeeze, Diana released her, and Y/N excused herself back out into the foyer. She signed out of the visitor log and waved to a grinning Suzanna, and then headed outside to catch her breath. She made it to the car, unlocking it and settling into the passenger seat before leaning over to turn it on and get the windows rolled down.

Spencer emerged from the building, his hands in his pockets. He quickly made his way to the vehicle, practically running across the parking lot and sliding behind the wheel. Before she could even say anything, he was surging across the console to grab her face in his hands and pull her into a kiss.

She steadied herself with her hands on his chest, clutching at his shirt and returning the unexpected passion with a slightly bewildered smile. When he was finished, he pulled back to lean their foreheads together. She caught her breath and asked, “What was that for?”

“She loved you, and I love you, and I’m so glad you got to meet her.”

She could hear the emotion in his voice, and she slid her arms around his back, pulling him into a hug. “Me, too.”

He leaned into her for a minute longer, breathing into her hair and pressing another kiss to her shoulder. Then he pulled back, smiling widely. “How would you feel about meeting the other family?”

…

Spencer drove them to meet up with the team at O’Keefe’s, a favorite haunt of theirs on the evenings when they’d wrapped a case at a reasonable hour. They headed up the sidewalk hand in hand, with Y/N leaning a little into his side. She was feeling slightly more at ease this time around thanks to the buffer of knowing Penelope, Luke, and JJ already.

Spencer held the door open, trailing in behind her with a hand on her waist. She spotted Penelope’s bright green dress immediately, and Spencer raised his hand in greeting. The group gave them a raucous cheer, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

Spencer kept his hand on the small of her back as they approached the table. He greeted the group and then turned to Y/N, gesturing around the table. He introduced her to Tara, Matt, and Emily, the three of whom greeted her with warm handshakes. Penelope was practically vibrating with excitement as she scooped her up into a hug.

“Gosh dang it, you are just so cute ,” Penelope squeaked. She pulled back from the hug to take stock of Y/N’s outfit. “The books, I love it. And the shoes!”

Y/N laughed, twirling her ankle to show off the pink t-strap heels. “I’m definitely going to regret them in about an hour. But they look cute anyway.”

Tara sidled up to the two of them, raising her glass in solidarity. “Here’s to cute shoes and pinched toes.” She took a sip of her scotch and then turned to Y/N. “What’s your poison?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Y/N insisted.

Tara waved her hand and gestured to Spencer. “You got grandpa to come out to the bar. You’re not paying for a single drink tonight.”

“I come out with you guys!” he squeaked indignantly.

A chorus of exasperated groans made their way around the group, followed by good-natured laughs. Tara raised a single eyebrow in Spencer’s direction, and then turned her attention back to Y/N. “Like I said, you won’t need your wallet tonight. What’ll it be?”

…

She did not, in fact, have to reach for her wallet at all that evening. Between the seven of them, Y/N’s cup was always full and her smile was nearly permanent. She heard endless stories about Spencer, complete with photo evidence— much to his dismay.

She learned that Tara had a doctorate in forensic psychology, and Emily had worked internationally for years becoming the Unit Chief of the BAU. Luke had been an Army Ranger and a member of the Fugitive Task Force, and Matt had traveled the globe with the International Response Team.

They were all incredibly kind, asking about her family and her work, listening with interest as she recounted growing up on a farm and her days spent teaching kindergarten. Despite their apparent interest, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little… silly. Stories of field trips and finger painting felt incredibly juvenile in comparison to the lived experiences of this remarkable team of people.

She did her best to steer the conversation back to the team whenever possible, which in some ways made the whole thing worse. But she managed to keep a smile for the evening, and she lost track of how many drinks made their way down the hatch. Luke ordered an assortment of snack foods for the group, and she gratefully accepted a few fries and a mozzarella stick to soak up some of the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. At some point Spencer returned from the bar with an extra glass of water, sliding it her way with a knowing smile and a press of his lips to her cheek.

Eventually, Y/N had to excuse herself to the bathroom, patting Spencer’s arm and carefully navigating the dim bar. In the way that it so often did, the level of her intoxication made itself abundantly clear in the harsh lighting of the restroom. She stumbled out of the stall to wash her hands, using the countertop for balance and cursing under her breath.

She raised her head to analyze her appearance, groaning a little at the smudge of mascara under her eyes. As she swiped at the black rings, she considered that she had never quite figured out the ideal amount of alcohol— somehow always managing to get a little too drunk. And now she was too drunk in front of all of Spencer’s friends— his family.

Not only that, but for the second time today, she couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmingly ordinary . Surrounded by the team, all extraordinary and awe-inspiring in their own right, she was… plain, unaccomplished, boring . Spencer had called her remarkable; she felt anything but.

She closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill over, remembering the last time she’d cried in a bar bathroom. She’d spent that evening wondering what was wrong with her… wondering if she deserved to have someone like Spencer at all.

“That’s just… the alcohol talking,” she reminded herself out loud into the empty bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. “Stop bein’ a weirdo.”

She pushed out of the bathroom and back into the bar, walking a little more cautiously as the alcohol started to course through her bloodstream. As she approached the group again, Spencer’s eyes found her immediately, and he reached for her, pulling her underneath his arm and into his side. He brought his mouth close to her ear and murmured, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just—” She slid her hand around his waist to keep herself steady. “Just more tipsy than I thought.”

He ran a soothing hand along her arm. “Do you wanna go home?”

She shook her head. “No, no— ‘M fine. ‘S nice to be with your friends.”

“You’re sure?” He squeezed her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Because honestly I’m kind of ready to go.”

She looked up from where her head was resting on his chest to see him smiling softly at her. “Whatever you want.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then turned back to the team and cleared his throat. “We’re gonna head out.”

Tara made a show of checking her watch. “10:45? I’m surprised you stayed this long, old man.”

…

Y/N’s eyes opened slowly and came into focus as Spencer’s car came to a stop outside her apartment. “Why’re we here?”

Spencer shut off the ignition and pulled out the key with a small smile. “I have a feeling you’re going to feel… less than stellar tomorrow. I thought you might like to wake up in your own bed. Hang on.”

He climbed out of the vehicle and closed the door before coming around to her side. She could feel the tears welling up as she fumbled with the buckle on her seatbelt. Everything was a little uncoordinated, and she felt absolutely ridiculous.

The door opened, and she carefully swung her legs out one at a time. Spencer stood slightly to the side, and she knew she should hurry up and let him get home, but she didn’t move to get up.

“Do you need help?”

She shook her head, and the action sent a tear rolling over her bottom lash line. She tried to swipe it away, but of course Spencer caught it.

“Hey— what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

She sniffed. “Are you just dropping me off?”

He cupped a hand underneath her chin to tilt her eyes upward, and his eyes were soft but concerned. “I was planning to come upstairs with you. Unless you don’t want me to.”

She shook her head. “No, I— you can come upstairs.”

“Okay.” Spencer cocked his head. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Y/N didn’t know where to begin. She was drowning in self-doubt— had been since about the one month mark. It seemed that every day there was something new to feel insecure about. The confidence she’d had on his doorstep in March was nowhere to be found.

That was too much for her slow moving brain to articulate at the moment, so she settled on: “They’re all so smart and funny and cool and interesting.”

“Okay…” he prompted.

“And I’m not,” she admitted.

His mouth turned quickly down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I’m just— a kindergarten teacher and I— I don’t have any cool skills or stories, and I don’t even have any muscles, and they’re all so pretty —”

“Hey, stop— stop.” Spencer squatted down to be eye-level with her. “First of all, you’re not ‘just’ anything. And you’re my favorite kindergarten teacher and the best one I know.” He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. “You have lots of cool skills and stories. And I don’t have any muscles either.”

She lifted her free hand to squeeze his bicep. “Yes, you do.”

“Muscles are overrated.” He smiled and brought a hand to her face, smoothing her hair back and then letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “And frankly, pretty is too mundane a term to describe you. I’d go with something like radiant, or ethereal, or incandescent.”

“You have to s‘plain your jokes to me,” she slurred, swiping her forearm under her nose.

“Not always. And besides, I have to explain my jokes to basically everyone,” he reminded her. He squeezed her hand. “But unlike everyone else, you let me explain them to you. And you actually listen to the explanation.” He shrugged. “I think I like that more than I like telling the joke.”

She was quiet then, eyes focused on a particularly interesting piece of loose gravel. She knew the list of her flaws was longer, but her brain couldn’t string them together in her current state.

Spencer shuffled closer and waited patiently until she finally looked at him before continuing.

“I love you. And not because of your job, or your cool stories, or your muscles,” he clarified. “I love you because you’re you. And, a little selfishly, because I love the person that I am when I’m with you. Okay?”

He smiled tentatively, and she let out a long breath. “Okay.”

He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Now, come on. Let’s get inside.”

Spencer helped her navigate up the walkway and the three flights of stairs. Rather than rummage drunkenly through her purse, she passed it off and allowed him to retrieve her keys and unlock the door.

He supervised and provided balance support as she haphazardly swiped a makeup wipe over her face and fumbled into her pajamas. Finally he got her settled into bed with a bottle of water on the bedside table.

He pulled up the covers around her. “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he murmured.

This was the moment that he’d realize what an absolute fool she was. He’d finally be alone in the bathroom, and it would become abundantly clear that she couldn’t drink responsibly, that she was boring, that she was obnoxious. She was sure of it, and her heart was fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces.

Spencer’s nervous laugh broke through her haze of insecurity. “Whoa, I thought we were done crying?” he joked. “Honey, c’mere.” Spencer pulled her up into his arms, rubbing a hand over her back.

She hadn’t realized she was making any noise until the sound vibrated against where Spencer had tucked her into his shoulder. As if she hadn’t been foolish enough tonight, now she was blubbering into his nice cardigan. Despite herself, she clung to him like he’d disappear like smoke between her fingers.

“I’m— I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed; it’s not funny,” he apologized. “Shhh, sweetheart . It— it’s okay, it’s okay .”

“I don’t want you to go.” Her voice was full of tears and cracked pathetically at the end.

“Okay, okay,” he agreed, a tinge of confusion in his voice. “I’m— the bathroom can wait, I suppose.”

That only made her cry harder, which poor Spencer responded to with even more aggressive soothing. He stroked over her hair and hugged her tight, shushing her and rocking her a little bit back and forth.

He was just so sweet . Kind and thoughtful and considerate— three things she hadn’t experienced from a significant other in a very long time. And it was exhausting waiting for the shift— for the moment that he realized she wasn’t worth the hassle. She was so tired of anticipating the end.

“I don’t want you to leave.” She hated how ridiculous she sounded, gasping and hiccuping.

Spencer froze for a full second and then squeezed her impossibly tighter. “I’m not. Baby, I’m not. I am right here.” He stroked a firm hand up and down her spine. “I need you to take some deep breaths with me. I’m gonna do it, too, okay?”

He led her in a series of deep inhalations and long exhales to the rhythm of his palm on her back. He murmured quietly to her, reassurances and promises and love. As her breathing came closer to normal, he pressed a soft kiss into her hair.

“I love you, Y/N. You know that, right? I wouldn’t change one single thing about you.” His hand on her back slowed to a stop, and she could practically hear him considering his next move. “I’m pretty sure Billy Joel wrote a song about it, actually. I love you just the way you are. ”

She couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up in her throat at the tone deaf melody, and she felt him smile against her hair. “Okay?”

She wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t his fault. She sighed and sniffed. “Okay, off brand Billy Joel.”

“That’s not very nice,” he chuckled, pulling back to swipe his fingers over her damp cheeks.

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I love off brand. Just as good as the real thing, and with some fun quirks.”

“Somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.” He smiled softly at her, and then his expression melted into something a little more serious. “But I mean it. There is no place I’d rather be, and no one else that I wanna be with. When I say that I love you the most, I mean that I love you more than I have ever loved anybody. Ever.”

He looked at her so earnestly that she wanted to cry all over again. How was he so wonderful, and gentle, and loving, and perfect ? He’d promised to do better on a chilly night in January and then spent every single day since then doing exactly that.

“But I actually do have to pee,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you going to be okay here for a few minutes?”

He was speaking to her as he would a child, and she was utterly mortified. She waved her hand. “ God , I’m bein’ so annoying.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a little drunk. And a lot adorable.” He tapped gently on her nose. “But you’re also kind of sad, and I don’t want you to be sad.” He propped the pillow up behind her. “It’ll be the fastest pee ever— four minutes, tops. Most of it will be hand washing. Okay?"

“Okay,” she smiled, and she really meant it.

He hopped up and trotted to the bedroom door. “See you in four minutes. Have some water while you wait.”

She followed instructions, sipping carefully from the bottle he’d left for her. She also rummaged through the bedside drawer for the Advil, popping two and washing them down with another swig of water.

Spencer returned to the bedroom with his cardigan and pants already discarded. He quickly slipped out of his button up and into his pajamas before sliding in beside her and holding out his arms. “All right, c’mere.”

“Hmm?” she hummed.

“I’m demanding snuggles,” he clarified. “That’s the price you pay for my chauffeur and caretaker services.”

Another smile slowly turned up the corners of her mouth, and he returned it, pulling her against his side. “There she is.”

She allowed herself to settle and melt into his warmth, the soft fabric of his t-shirt under her cheek and his fingers brushing lightly over her arm. She willed herself to stop waiting for the shift. She begged herself to stop looking for the end.

Maybe this time there wouldn’t be an end. Maybe she could have an infinite middle with Spencer Reid. Maybe she had earned that.

———

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[oriigami]

we slept on the ocean last night

(My gift for @cozza for the @setsailexchange! Strawhat feel-good fluff, feat. nightmares, love, and platonic intimacy. Also on ao3 here!)

It starts like this: Luffy can’t sleep alone. 

Zoro discovers this about six hours after they set out to sea from Shells Town, just the two of them in Luffy’s little dinghy and no destination to speak of. The sun has sunk past the horizon, and the water all around their tiny boat is pitch black, scattered with the shimmering reflections of stars. 

Luffy yawns, stretching his jaw open wider than a human’s should rightly be able to go (and maybe the rubber thing still freaks Zoro out just a little bit, okay, he’s working on it) and then, without a word of warning, crawls over to where Zoro’s sitting and drops bonelessly into his lap, sprawling against his chest with his head pillowed over Zoro’s heart. 

Zoro goes tense immediately, only barely resisting the instinct to shove him away immediately; in a boat this size, that would definitely send Luffy over the edge, and his new dumbshit captain can’t swim. “What. Are you doing.” 

Luffy yawns again, and snuggles closer. “Mm. Sleepin’.”

“Okay,” Zoro says, with what he decides is a truly admirable degree of forced calm. “Why on me.” 

“Comfy,” Luffy mumbles into his shirt. “‘nd warm.”

“Well, get off,” Zoro says, and then, when there’s absolutely no response, “Luffy? Hey-” 

He looks down at Luffy’s face, already slack with sleep and dead to the world, and the rest of the sentence dissolves into a sigh. “...Nevermind.” 

Because- see, Zoro’s not a touchy kind of person. It’s probably been more than a year since he was last hugged, and even that was just because Johnny tended to get kind of over-affectionate when he was drunk. Sometimes he shakes hands when handing over a captured pirate for the bounty, and that’s about it. And that’s fine. 

Luffy’s whole weight is on top of him, warm and heavy and snoring softly against his chest, and Zoro’s pretty sure he can’t even remember the last time he was in this much contact with another person for this long. Luffy’s hair is unwashed and salt-encrusted, and it tickles his chin.

But. Well. It’s not bad. It’s definitely weird, and something about it makes Zoro feel oddly warm, but it’s not bad. So he just sighs again, and leans back to look up at the stars, and absently reaches up to rest an arm around Luffy’s shoulders. 

He falls asleep a lot faster than usual, that night.

-

It goes like this: Nami has nightmares. 

She’s good at hiding them. Her sobs are nearly silent, muffled into her pillow and rendered all but inaudible by the doors between her room and the boys’. But Usopp is nothing if not observant- and besides, he doesn’t sleep all that well either. When he closes his eyes he’ll see his mother’s face, too still and too pale with a cloth draped over her kind, sightless eyes. More recently, there have been fresher terrors filling up the inside of his head when he tries to sleep; chief among them Kaya, carved to pieces by Kuro’s claws. 

The point is this- when Nami slips out of her room in the middle of the night, her breaths uneven and stuttery from crying, and pads almost soundlessly up to the deck on unsteady feet, Usopp is already awake. He lies still for a minute or two, worrying his lower lip and deliberating on whether to follow her. It’s obvious she’s trying to keep to herself. If it’s something secret, he doesn’t want to bother her. It’s not like he knows that much about her, or about any of them, really.

But at the same time- they’re crew now, right? Even if they’re only been sailing together for a few days. And crew look after each other. Usopp might not have much experience with being a pirate yet, but he has spent years crying into his pillow, so that makes him qualified to deal with this, maybe. He cautiously maneuvers his way out from under Luffy’s arm and tiptoes to the door, careful not to wake his other two crewmates up. 

He finds her at the bow, sitting with her back against the railing and her head resting on her knees, shoulders shaking. She startles a little when he steps up onto the deck, jerking her head up and glaring over at him, but her shoulders slump again after a moment. 

After another moment of indecision, he sits down next to her. He’s never been good at staying quiet- his mouth has a tendency to open up on its own whenever he’s nervous- but he manages it this time, and just sits there with his arm pressed against hers as she cries.

Once she’s worked herself down to what seems like relative calm again, he offers, “Do you, um. Wanna… talk about it?” 

“No,” she says immediately, and then, quieter, “I… no. It’s fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” 

It’s one of the most blatant lies he’s ever heard, and he’s been responsible for some real whoppers, but he’d be a hypocrite to point it out. Instead, he says, “Okay, um… do you wanna hear about the time a giant eagle carried me away to its nest, and I had to climb all the way down a tree that was so tall it touched the clouds?” 

Nami chokes on a laugh, and it’s an ugly, wet sound, half a sob, but she leans her head against his shoulder, all the remaining tension running out of her body. “Y’know what? Sure. Tell me.” 

Usopp’s just reached the part of the story where he finds a whole village of people living in the tree’s roots when he realizes she’s fallen asleep, and he trails off. The ends of her short orange hair poke at his skin, and her cheek is pillowed against his shoulder. 

He guesses he’s not moving for the rest of the night, so he carefully wraps an arm around her narrow shoulders and lets his head tip against hers, and closes his eyes. 

For once, he doesn’t have any nightmares.

-

It goes like this: Sanji doesn’t sleep.

“Oi, dumbass,” Zoro says, leaning against the kitchen doorframe and folding his arms across his chest. “Why are you still awake?” 

It’s well into the dead silent hours of night, and even varying as bedtime tends to be on the Going Merry, everyone else is already long since asleep, aside from Usopp, on the lookout in the crow’s nest. It had been a long and tiring day, and most of them had hit the sack immediately after dinner- except for Sanji, who’s still mindlessly moving around the kitchen, like he’s killing time until daybreak. 

It’s a measure of how exhausted Sanji must be that he barely even bristles at the insult, only blinks a little and glances over at Zoro. Even with his stupid bangs hiding his face, the sleeplessness is still plain to see in his visible eye. “Hm?” He blinks again, then says, “Oh. It’s you.” 

“Why are you still awake?” Zoro asks again, because he still hasn’t got an answer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sanji says, and it’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth, either. “So I came up here to…” he trails off, makes a vague gesture at the pot bubbling on the stove. “It’s fine. I’m not even tired. I’m used to waking up early, for the breakfast crowd, so.”

There’s a lot of retorts hovering on Zoro’s tongue, but he bites them all back and just says, “Fuck that,” and reaches out and grabs Sanji by the wrist and drags him out of the kitchen without a backwards glance.  

“Jackass, what are you- let go of me- what the fuck, I said I’m fine- at least let me turn off the stove-” (Zoro does grant that one. Wouldn’t do for the kitchen to burn down.)

He’s probably lucky Sanji is so out of it, he muses as he hauls the cook belowdecks to the sleeping quarters- if not, he probably would have taken at least one bone-shattering kick to the skull by now. But then again, if Sanji wasn’t dead on his feet (and wasn’t a fucking idiot), Zoro wouldn’t be having to do this in the first place. They’ve just entered the most dangerous sea in the world. They need to get their sleep when they can get it so they’ll be ready for trouble when it comes.  

As usual, the shared bedroom is piled with pillows and slightly ragged blankets, transforming it into a comfortable little nest. Luffy is sleeping half-propped up against one of the walls, Nami napping with her head on his lap, and Sanji’s cursing goes quiet so as to not wake her up as soon as Zoro tows him inside, which Zoro is grateful for. It was starting to get kind of repetitive. 

He drops Sanji down directly next to Luffy, half on top of him, and nods to himself when a rubber arm almost immediately tightens around the cook’s chest, gently but firmly trapping him in place, and the captain snuggles up against Sanji’s side in his sleep. 

Sanji glares up at him and hisses, “I hate you,” or tries to, but he interrupts himself in the middle of the sentence with a yawn, which diminishes the impact considerably. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Zoro rolls his eyes and then drops down on Sanji’s other side, letting his head flop onto Sanji’s shoulder and letting his eyes slide shut. “Just go to sleep.”

-

It goes like this: Robin doesn’t touch people. 

It takes a couple days for Chopper to notice, because she does tickle his sides and ruffle his ears, but… she only ever does that with the false hands she creates with her devil fruit, the ones that dissolve into cherry blossoms that tickle his nose. She keeps her real hands close, only touches out of necessity, never when she doesn’t need to, and even then it’s always fleeting. 

And she sleeps apart from everyone else, too. 

Theoretically, Chopper knows, there’s a boys’ room and a girls’ room. In practice, though, there’s really one room for everybody, and another room where Robin sleeps and Nami changes and keeps her things. 

(He asks Zoro, one of the first nights, why Nami often doesn’t sleep in the girls’ room, why the crew instead sleeps all piled up and tangled together when he hasn’t ever heard of humans doing that before. Zoro just shrugs in response. “It’s a comfort,” he says simply. “Won’t air out secrets that aren’t mine, but people don’t become pirates just for fun. Most of us have trouble sleeping.”)

Chopper finds Zoro is right. He likes sleeping together with the others. It’s just easier, when he’s got Luffy’s fingers tangled in his fur and Usopp’s head pillowed on his side, to stop the Doctor’s last words from echoing in his head. 

(Luffy also declares him the second-best pillow on the crew, after only Zoro, which absolutely doesn’t make him happy at all.)

It happens just after Skypiea, when they’re all still just beginning to recover, sheltered in the sky while they heal from the battle against the mad god. Robin easily concedes when Chopper asks her to come to the sickbay so he can check for lasting damage from the lightning bolt, and lies down on the cot to let him check her ears, her eyes, her heartbeat. 

He’s finished his checkup (no apparent lasting problems, miraculously) and is noting down her baselines in his notebook for future reference when he glances up and realizes she’s slipped into slumber, her eyes closed and her breaths slow. It’s not a surprise; they’re all exhausted. 

But… maybe it’s because Chopper still doesn’t have that much real experience with humans, but he can’t help but think the way Robin is sleeping doesn’t look all that restful. She’s kind of curled up, her arms folded up against her chest, fingers digging into her forearms tight enough to bruise. 

Zoro’s voice rings in his ears. It’s a comfort. People don’t become pirates just for fun.

He slips down from his stool and shifts into his full reindeer form, and carefully climbs up onto the narrow cot beside her, folding his legs up underneath him and letting his side press against her back. He can feel the miniscule trembles running through her body, tight with tension. 

He rests his head on the pillow next to hers and closes his eyes, and slowly, slowly, she stills, relaxing into his side, her tremors calming little by little. 

He thinks he hears her murmur something that might be, “Thank you, Doctor-san,” just before he drifts off to sleep, too. 

-

It goes like this: It’s a comfort.

They’re all hurting after Enies Lobby, all aching and grieving and above all tired, a bone-deep weariness borne of running and fighting and crying and nearly dying over and over again. They can barely stay on their feet for the boat ride back to Water Seven. Robin can’t seem to stop smiling, even through the painful abrasions around her wrists and the tear tracks drying on her cheeks and the ache that digs down to her bones. 

Iceberg gives them a whole suite of rooms to use in Galley-La’s temporary headquarters, all comfortable, all with their own big soft beds to sleep in. He means well, she’s certain, but he just doesn’t know how the Strawhat Pirates do things. But, then, there’s nobody else who does things quite like them.

Iceberg is barely out the door before Robin is folding her arms across her chest, ferrying mattresses and bedding and pillows and comforters into the main lounge, gathering them into a piled-up nest of comfort. The shared bedroom on the Going Merry had been outfitted much the same, she remembers, and the warmth of familiarity is the least she can offer them after all they’ve given her. 

(Later, Franky will see this, and make a bed big enough to hold all of them, soft and comfortable and warm; but for now, they’re all safe and all alive, and so pillows on the floor are plenty.)

They don’t lie down so much as they all fall together at once in a tangle of limbs and pillows, now that the adrenaline has long since faded away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. Robin finds herself with her head on Nami’s chest and one of Luffy’s arms slung across her shoulders, and Chopper cuddled against her stomach. 

It shouldn’t be as easy as it is to melt into the embrace, to let go of the constant vigilant caution that’s kept her alive for so long, but she trusts these people, like she’s never trusted anyone in her life. She was ready to die for them, and they responded by telling her to live for them instead, and remembering that fills her heart with such soft fondness it nearly hurts. 

But they’re not quite all together. Not yet.

She shifts to cross her arms again, careful not to disturb any of the crewmates already fast asleep around and on top of her, and lets an arm blossom from a doorframe in the hall outside to catch Usopp by the collar before he can slip away. She hears his yelp of surprise from just outside the door, quickly muffled, and smiles to herself. 

A moment later, he peers inside, hiding behind the mostly-closed door. She meets his eyes and smiles with all the gratitude she can’t begin to put into words, and nods towards an unused mattress and pillow at her side. He hesitates for a moment, clearly uncertain, caught between anxiety and hope, so she takes his hand in a succession of hers and tugs him over. He stumbles, but doesn’t resist, and she can see the exhaustion in him when he practically topples over onto the mattress. 

Within minutes, he’s asleep too, face buried in the pillow, snoring softly, one warm hand still clasped in Robin’s. She knows he still has things to work out with Luffy, with the rest of the crew, and there’ll be time for that later. Right now, though, they’re alive, and she’s free, and it’s time to rest. 

She falls asleep smiling for the first time in years. 

-

It goes like this: Luffy can’t sleep alone. 

So Rusukaina is… it’s hard. He’s not alone, Rayleigh’s there, and sometimes Hancock and the others visit and let him hug them as long as he wants, and that’s nice, but it’s not the same, not really. He misses his crew, misses Zoro’s solid warmth and the fluffy cushion of Usopp’s hair and the fleecy softness of Chopper’s fur and Robin’s low, rhythmic breathing. 

(He’s never slept better than when he was seven, piled together with Ace and Sabo and some ratty stolen blankets on the rough-hewn floor of their treehouse, with the crickets singing outside and the stars shining bright through the window.)

(But now there’s no Ace and Sabo, not ever again, and no crew to keep him warm and chase away the nightmares in their absence, and so he doesn’t sleep well.) 

He fights through it, because that’s what he always does, what he’s always done- press through. He has to get stronger for the people he has left. 

Going back to the Sunny is nothing less than going home. 

When night comes, they’re deep underwater, en route to Fishman Island, the sunlit waters of the surface long since gone. Past the railings of the Sunny, the world is nearly pitch black, lit only by the occasional bioluminescent creature wriggling past.

Luffy couldn’t care less, because right here and right now, the Sunny is the world, and nothing past their bubble of light and warmth and safety matters at all. He grins, and throws his arms out to drag his whole crew together into a messy pile in the middle of the deck- Sanji swears and Chopper shrieks and so does Nami, but not one of them tries to dodge- before flopping into the midst of the chaos himself. 

He winds up sprawled half on Brook and half on Sanji, who complains but doesn’t kick him off, his head on Robin’s thigh and his arms tangled through all of them, holding on tight to every member of his crew, the most important treasures in the world, the touch promising him they’re there, really there. 

He’s not letting go of any of them, not again, not ever. 

He’s reaching the crown with all of them or not at all. 

Someone runs a hand through his hair, and it feels nice. Someone says, “Get some sleep, captain. We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

He knows they will be.

[c-c-cherry]

I got it, what stuffies do the bucci gang members have?? Cause no matter WHAT they say, each of them has a comfort stuffy

Hell yeah Bucci gang comfort stuffies Bucci gang comfort stuffies (because even our boys in Passione have at least one)

Go give @jjadegreen a follow because her thoughts make up 99.9% of the head canons I post!!!

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Giorno

-Our boy’s got one medium sized plush ladybug. Narancia definitely gave it to him (he probably got it when he was sick or something just like what happened in The Unknown!)

-It was definitely the first stuffy he’d ever owned and he had no idea why they were giving it to him at first

-He has this external mindset that toys are for children but he literally loves this thing so much

-He’s too ashamed to tell anyone even though Narancia practically has a collection and he knows no one is gonna judge him for it

-It usually sits on a shelf but when Giorno has tough nights he hugs it to comfort himself and fall asleep

-It’s extremely well-kept because it’s Giorno's first stuffed animal. He adores it

-On one of his worse nights, Narancia walks in on him curled up under his blankets just—full-on crying into this poor ladybug. He skeets out of the room real quick and Giorno thought he’d completely fucked up and starts freaking out a bit only to see Nara run back in with more than an armful of stuffies and just dumps them all onto his bed

-They eat chocolate and take the best nap ever. This becomes a nice little weekly routine for the boys where the two of them can just sit and spill all their secrets and all that bro shit

-When Bruno catches wind of this via Narancia, he makes sure that they all give him a new plushie for his birthday

-Giorno acts like he could care less about it and politely thanks them, but Narancia gives Bruno all these little updates about how much Giorno loves every single one of them :’)

Bruno

-Surprisingly? Beanie baby collection

- He started collecting when he was a kid and paused the collection for the beginning of his time in Passione but started it up again about 3 years ago

-Beanie baby attic? Beanie baby attic

-When Fugo first moved in with him and just saw like—a room full of beanie babies he had no idea what to think but it's become a ritual at this point for each new member of the bucci gang to stare longingly at the vast collection when they first move in with them

- None of the beanie babies are exceptionally rare but he takes very good care of each and every one (like a good parent should)

- Although he doesn’t really have favourites, he does have a certain attachment to Smoochy the Frog because it was a gift from Leone (who begrudgingly denies that he has anything to do with the frog whenever one of them asks about it)

-What he DIDN’T know was that Polpo had a massive one. Like, a huge one because he was Polpo and of course he did

-Once he inherits all of Polpo’s shit he’s handed like, a million beanie babies and he is overjoyed

-He still keeps his own special collection separate from those ones, though. Because that shit’s special

Narancia

-Enormous plushie collection. Seriously.

-He cuddles with a different one each night like a devoted bro

-He has super tiny ones and huge ones that are bigger than him and a whole variety of them and they’re just fucking everywhere all over his room

-He can literally nap anywhere thanks to vast amount of comfiness in his room now

-They all have names which no one else can seem to remember other than Bruno.

-He always has special ones on hand specifically for lending out to the others (usually Giorno or Fugo) whenever one of them gets sad or overwhelmed

-Whenever he gets a new one he always asks everyone for name ideas (Mista is the best at coming up with names)

-Whenever one of his old animal plushies gets too old/can barely even function as a toy anymore, Giorno will turn it into an actual animal for him so it can still live on in a way :)))

-His favourite is a dirty, crusty, old plush lamb named Pecorey that he got from his mother when he was 2. When I tell you this thing is crusty, it’s CRUSTY

-But it’s very dear to his heart so it doesn’t matter ;-;

-Bruno has tried to clean her a few times but it seems like the grime will never come off. Narancia thinks the dirt gives her personality though.

Abbacchio

-Refuses to admit he has any plushies

-He has 2. One teddy bear he found at a garage sale that had Bruno’s hairstyle, so obviously he bought it.

-The second one is a tiny plushie that Narancia made by hand. Yes, the plushie also looks like Bruno. Abbacchio claimed it was ugly when narancia made it but he takes very good care of the tiny Bruno.

-Will not bring them out of his closet under any circumstances. Even when he’s sad ;(

-He helps Bruno dust off his beanie babies, even though he swears that he hates doing it

Mista

-His plushie is... can you even call it a plushie?

-It’s a teddy bear he got as a baby, but mista never took good care of it so it’s just.... a stuffingless husk. Just skin.

-Mista claims the bear is named Cattivo but the rest of Team Bucciarati usually refers to the bear as ‘it’. Abbacchio keeps trying to throw it out but he always fails.

-They always wonder why Mista still keeps it around and one night they find out that his eldest sister found him after he came out of jail and gave it to him and it's the only item that he has left that stuff connects him to his family (and also the last time he saw his sister)

-They start calling the bear Cattivo after that

-It sits on his bookshelf and he puts it next to his pillow when he gets sad

Fugo

-Has no plushies of his own, though he used to have hundreds back when he lived surrounded by wealth

-When he turned seven, his parents took away all toys that he owned and replaced them with books and school supplies, telling him that he’s fated to do well in academics and doesn’t need any distractions

-He still has it drilled into his head that he doesn’t need them or doesn’t deserve them and makes it clear to everybody that he doesn’t want any (even though he kinda does)

-He does frequently steal plushies from Narancia though

-He always returns them in the end because he just ends up feeling bad for wanting one but Narancia doesn’t mind.

-He usually takes this one huge dragon that’s big enough to hug with his entire body. While fugo will never admit it to his team, he really likes affection with those that he trusts, so having a huge plush (even if he’s just borrowing it) to hug is nice.

Trish

-Collects those tiny Japanese plushies which are like... food, drinks, etc,,but with those cute little eyes.

-She buys like, 4 of them a week.

-Her favourite changes almost daily, usually just whichever one she bought most recently :)

-Fugo and Giorno don’t really see the appeal in food with faces, but Mista and Narancia LOVE Trish’s collection

-If she orders one she ends up not liking, she gives it to Narancia for his collection (and sometimes Mista if he begs hard enough)

- Trish has an entire LED display wall in her room for her collection. Her impulse buying of these plushies knows no bounds. She tries to save up for huge ones but she ends up buying a bunch of small ones on impulse.

-Bruno did get her a few huge ones for her birthday, though!

-Whenever Abbacchio is out shopping and runs into one of them that she doesn’t have, he kind of just,,,sneakily buys it and puts it on her bed while she’s not there for her to find later

-She has no idea who keeps gifting her these blessings, but she has a feeling that its him hehehe

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I  still have this cat stuffy in my room that Jade got me when I was 3 or 4 (but she was like 2 when she “gave” it to me so it was more like our mom bought it lmao) and I named it Kitty because I was super original. When I was 5, I lost it once and refused to sleep for days without it so my parents “found it” which really meant they went and bought me a second one and right after that WE ACTUALLY FUCKING FOUND IT LMAO

But like 6 months later my parents split and now I have one at each of their houses so it works! No Kitty is more superior than the other, I love my children equally😌😌

Listen, I know all y’all have at least ONE toy/item/memento somewhere, even if you haven’t seen it or thought about it in years. And I wanna know what it is. 

[purplesurveys]

1275

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived?  We open all our presents the night of Christmas Eve to begin with; but no, they don’t tease by letting us open a few of them before our usual schedule.

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose?  If I could change blouses to shirts, then I would go with that because I’ve recently gotten into t-shirts and sweatshirts and no longer the trendy and preppy tops I used to like haha. But if not, I would go for shoes.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc?  It varies as it depends on how much I cried. The harder I cried the more I’d want to sleep it off, because it can actually get pretty exhausting. Sometimes I’ll reach out, sometimes I write. It’s really different every time, but at the end I’m just glad I can no longer even remember the last time I cried out of sadness.

Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term?  Well we know the answer to this. It’s satisfying to notice him disappear off the face of the Earth immediately after his term, though. I don’t have a clue what he’s up to now.

Last time you felt suicidal?  For some reason I felt down last Thursday and I felt the slightest, slightest tinge of suicidal thoughts. No idea where it came from.

Last time you had butterflies?  Ugh idk but it was probably BTS-related hahahahahahah

Biggest asshole you know?  Certain politicians.

Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them?  No, I was on the opposite side of the coin for this one. I was broken up with because they believed they would hurt me, if not already doing so.

What song did you last listen to?  Hip Hop Phile by BTS.

Ever ridden in a police car?  Nopes.

Ever witnessed a murder?  Hmm, not that I can recall. I do remember having to monitor crime stories for one of my very first journalism assignments and the one time I didn’t tag along to the fieldwork with my classmates, they got to witness a stabbing incident :/ By itself of course it always sucks to have violent situations like those, but as a reporter it would’ve been interesting to see the scene and its aftermath.

Have you ever lied under oath?  I don’t think so, no. I can’t even remember the last time I was put under oath.

Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve failed exams but never an entire class.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet?  No.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender?  Well yeah, I dated one.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before?  Sure.

Have you ever been to a movie that sold out?  I’ve never experienced trying to buy tickets only to find out they’re all sold out, but that’s also probably because we have hundreds of malls in Manila alone and you can always find a theatre that are still offering tickets.

What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep?  I’m not usually that way with horror movies, but I do remember running into a jumpscare on TikTok while I was scrolling at 3 AM. Not fun.

When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad?  Touchpad. I never use a mouse.

What’s your mom’s mom’s name?  Agnes.

Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like?  I’m not interested in anyone so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Have you ever been tempted to steal?  Sure, but the urge is never so strong.

What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? I’m not reading anything.

Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? Nah. I did have a Ben&Ben phase, though I haven’t revisited their music in a long time.

Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself?  I’m not sure about completely naked, probably still my ex. As for partially naked, my dad sometimes goes shirtless at home as most Filipino dads do lol.

Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer?  The most iconic for me would be that porcupine looking ass from Resident Evil 4, I believe it was meant to be for one of the boss stages or something. Anyway, it’s memorable for me just because that fucker had been impossible to defeat and I loved watching my older cousin do attempt after attempt. I don’t think he ever got to beat him and by the time he did us cousins were already adults, lol.

On a side note, we called him ‘Porcupine’ as kids since a shitload of spikes would stick out of him unpredictably during the boss stage, and I thought that nickname had been just our thing; but I’m actually surprised that that villain actually comes up when you do a simple ‘Resident Evil 4 porcupine’ search haha. I guess other people called him the same thing too.

What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving?  I usually put on a playlist of BTS’ rapline; I tend to enjoy high-energy songs while driving.

Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog?  I don’t see why I wouldn’t when it comes to the dog. I don’t want a cat or rat. 

All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with?  G.

What did you and your ex fight about most?  It was about the deeper, more profound stuff. We never saw eye to eye about the future, if we were helping the other grow, etc. Someone was always scared or insecure about something that the other could never help with fixing.

Don’t you love long hugs?  Sure, I love getting hugs as long as I’m comfy around the one giving it.

And long kisses?  Mhm, they’re nice.

Have you ever purchased condoms?  Only for Angela when she had still been too shy to ask for it herself. 

Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend?  No. We had gone out of town for daytrips, but never for a fully-decked out vacation.

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument?  I wouldn’t do anything that loud. My resentment’s a lot more reserved and subtle, definitely on the passive-aggressive side.

Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it?  If I left like a paint scratch, no. If I was somehow stupid enough to manage wrecking the car then yes.

Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot?  Oh that’s just gross. No. I do remember unknowingly parking over a spot meant for the handicapped once just because the paint was so fucking faded. It was genuinely so hard to tell but in the end I ended up just getting out of the spot and looked for another just to be on the safe, unassholey side.

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job?  Not at all! I love telling people I work in PR and sharing the brands I work with...it’s just a bitch trying to explain what exactly it is I do on a normal day. I’m still blanking out on it now that I’m thinking about it, haha. PR’s a challenge to summarize in one or two sentences.

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving?  I honestly have no clue how I’d deal with it. Ideally I would pull over and help bring it to the side of the road, and try to ask for help from passersby as well. I’m still not sure what I should/would do next.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner?  French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants always seem to carry a pleasant, date-y atmosphere to them, so any of those cuisines should be ok. I also like quieter restaurants with warm yellow lighting, since that makes me feel at home the most. The place definitely doesn't have to be super popular; I would just want for it to serve good food.

What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue?  Flying planes.

What would be the most amazing adventure to go on?  Probably something that’s booked with thrill-seeking adventures? Like a day of wakeboarding, paragliding, skydiving, riding an ATV...I would be exhausted as fuck and sleep for the next three days, but I can’t even begin to imagine how fun it would be.

When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. < Yeah, essentially. My friends ask me for general life advice too.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like?  Yeah. But I always defended her.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else?  I mean I’ve written long letters, but I haven’t made a poem or song for anyone.

Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished?  These days it would probably be Arlan. He just finished his Masters in Journalism at Columbia and I couldn’t be more proud. I remember wanting to attend Columbia too, but seeing how my love of journalism turned out...I’ve long accepted the fact that that route was not meant for me, hahaha.

What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives?  Finish a painting, which can also serve as a callout to me lol.

What would you rate 10/10?  Seafood.

What do you hope never changes?  My relationships with my best friends.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted?  No, I barely have a clue who she is and she seemed decades older when she called me up this morning.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to?  I’m good.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now? 

Are you happy with your relationship status?  Yessssssss. I love not having to worry about another person to spend on LOL

When did you last cry? What for?  Two Saturdays ago. The one-year mark of my breakup had been coming up and an overwhelming wave of emotions just flooded me all of a sudden, I guess. There was happiness and relief from not being stuck in it anymore; feeling sorry for myself as I remembered the turmoil and deterioration I went through in the latter part the year; anger for the shit she pulled; and there was also just the general feeling of being grateful that I’m still here after everything.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love? 

When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone?  No clue. I’m not holding my breath for it and that’s okay.

Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently?  Yeah, unfortunately I’ve always been surrounded by at least one person who terrifies me.

What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself?  Nothing more than a day. That’s something I have yet to try out.

Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like?  Athenna was relentless in her insults. I dunno why I was friends her for as long as I was.

Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like?  If they’re some random person on the internet with disgusting political views, then yeah; but it’s just thoughts I keep in my head and I never verbalized the bullying. But not anyone in real life. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?”  If I’m friends with the person I’ll banter with them for a bit until I give in for a hug. If it was any other guy I barely know...I would be disgusted and throw them the dirtiest glare.

Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. < LOL same. Anyway no, not these days. I used to but they’re not really a part of my personal style anymore.

Who are you the most uncomfortable around?  Relatives with the wrong political views.

Who has your heart?  Nobody.

Should cloning ever be allowed to happen?  I don’t see the point. No.

Are you impatient with really shy people? If it gets to the point that they seem aloof and radiate very I-could-not-care-less-about-getting-along-with-any-of-you vibes, then yeah I feel like I would get irritated pretty fast. But I was an extremely shy person once too, so I’m typically friendly with them and I would usually be That person who constantly stays next to them so they feel like they belong.

Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window?  It sits in the window, as with most households here.

What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently?  I haven’t encountered anything wacky recently.

Would you ever get a fashion mullet?  No.

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning?  No.

Do you believe in spiritual gifts?  No.

Do you believe in callings?  Not really, no.

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done?  Hell no. I get extremely sheepish in front of a camera and a thousand times worse at posing.

[toloveawarlord]

Little Rich Girl (Ch. 1)

You can find all my other works here!

Present:

              Smoke. Another man is here in our apartment. From my sleeping mat on the floor behind the couch, the cigarette smoke wafted over the edge and down into my face. Fighting the urge to cough, mother’s voice filled the room, an octave higher than it typically was. She sweet talked to him. Handsome. Gentleman. Then she repeated her price. This had become the routine. All I had do was be quiet. Not exist.

              My mother asked to go into the small bedroom, but the man refused, preferring to stay on the couch. The sound a zipper being unzipped slowly broke the silence. Slurping noises followed. The man moaned loudly, commenting on her nice mouth. Stretching his arms over the top of the couch, he shook his cigarette to let the ashes fall.

              Covering my mouth my hands, I tried so hard to hold back the scream of pain when the ashes sprinkled into my right eye. Squeezing my eyes shut did no good. It only prolonged the burning pain. Try as I might, the sounds escaped my lips.

              The man turned his head, alarmed. “What the hell?! You’ve got a kid in here? Are you out of your mind?! Filthy whore!” He must have shoved her by the thud. He was gone before my mother could even begin to beg him to stay.

              The couch was ripped away from the wall, my mother seething. “You stupid child! That was our rent for the next month! That was dinner for us! Stupid! Worthless! Can’t you do anything right? After I was gracious enough to keep you!” Mother screamed, throwing everything in reach at me.

                The alarm on my phone had been going off for a long time. Cracking my eyes open, reality came rushing back. That had been so long ago… almost ten years. If so much time has passed, why is that woman still haunting my sleep? Tapping my fingers on the screen to stop the alarm, I rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling. All she ever gave me was bruises and punishments. Why should I feel sad for her?

              Stretching my arms over my head, I studied my hands. Clean. Painted nails. I’d gotten a manicure the other day. Unlike hers. They were always a little dirty, and had chipped nail polish from a cheap store near where we lived. That had been our life for years. A laugh escaped my lips. Look at me now, waking up in a suite on the top of floor of a fancy hotel.

              Deciding to get out of bed, I could smell breakfast being cooked. I sifted through my closet. Maroon leggings. A loose, dark green dress. Slip on black boots. We were flying to Japan today, for ‘a while’, whatever that means. Even though we took a private jet, I wanted to be comfy. In the bathroom, I quickly applied a light amount of makeup. Feeling presentable, I left my room to venture into the kitchen.

              “Morning, sleepy! I made you breakfast,” Minami said with a grin, like always.

              “You make me breakfast most mornings, Minami,” I replied, abandoning my usual spot by the counter. Slipping under his arm, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Leaning my forehead on his chest, I sighed to myself.

              The pan clattered softly as he set it aside to return the embrace. Petting my head, he remained silent for a moment. It was comfortable. “What’s wrong, Bexley?” Minami asked. He rarely used my full name, opting for the short version most days.

              Collecting myself, I shook my head. “Nothing. Just a bad dream.” We never brought up my mom. When I was younger, I had told him everything once. And since that day, we hadn’t spoke about her.

              Minami held onto me a little longer. “Okay. I understand.” He planted a soft kiss on my head. “Are you ready to go back to Japan?” He’d been worried about it since he’d told me a few days ago. His siblings were all going to be there, but his father and the man’s wife still hate me and are very vocal about it.

              I nodded my head with a smile. “Totally ready. You don’t have to worry about me so much.” It felt nice, though. Minami had been patient with me since the day we met, making sure I was comfortable with everything.

              “That’s my job! You’re my little baby—” He made kissy noises at me.

              Laughing and shoving him away, I replied, “I thought you owned this hotel as your job. And I’m not a baby.” My thoughts about my mother began to fade away and I was reminded about how happy being here with Minami made me. He’s my family now.

              “Eh, that’s my side job. My main job is taking care of my fifteen-year-old little girl,” He patted my head lightly. He says that so casually, like we were meant to be together from the start. Minami had barely turned eighteen, and I was only five when we met. It took less than a year for him to convince me to let him adopt me.

              The world around me seemed to become brighter whenever he talked to me like this. I smiled genuinely, all the dark feelings inside going away. This is where I belong. “Well, I’m grateful that you take care of me,” I said, standing up on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for breakfast, too.” Sliding the omelet onto a plate, I sat at the breakfast bar on a stool.

              His phone rang, and he left to go answer it in his bedroom. Probably some brokenhearted woman calling to ask for a second chance or an explanation. Though Minami had a good heart and cared for me more than anyone else in his life, he was still a player. Sometimes I’d even witnessed the aftermath. They would yell at him, calling him all kinds of names.

              They were the like men that my mom brought over. All they wanted was to use Minami for his money and power. They would even try to sweet talk me to make him like them more, pretending to be accepting of the fifteen-year-old. Really, they thought I was in the way of what they wanted. I liked that Minami didn’t care for keeping them around. We don’t need them.

              “Sorry about that. Mac wanted to know what time we’d be in Japan,” Minami said, checking his watch. “When you’re done, we’ll head to the airport.” That was code for “we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry.”

              Stuffing the last bite of omelet into my mouth, I scooted the plate away. “M’I’m do’me,” I tried to say through all the egg in my mouth. Going into my room, I grabbed the suitcase I’d packed last night, jerking up the handle so it would roll. Out in the main room, a concierge man happily took the case from me to take down to the car.

              Minami stopped me before I followed the man out. The door closed with a heavy click. “Here, this is for you,” he said, giving me a little box.

              Untying the little ribbon, I slowly opened the box. Inside, there was a necklace made from diamonds and rubies. It shimmered under the light. My mouth dropped open slightly, and all I could do was stare for a solid minute. “It’s beautiful,” I finally mustered up some words. It’s more than that. It’s gorgeous. Stunning.

              “It’s almost our ten-year anniversary of when I adopted you. I thought the occasion called for something special, because you’re special,” Minami said with a grin. He spoils me. All the time. He tells me to spend as much as I want on anything. But this…

              I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Thank you, Minami! I love it!”

              Once he’d clasped the necklace securely around my neck, he held open the door. “I’m glad that you do. And now, we have a plane to catch.” He paused. “It doesn’t matter what any of them think, Bex. You’re a Kira. Don’t forget it.”

              He told me that all the time. Always reminding me that I was his, and that made me a Kira. His brothers had never said anything about it, but it was clear in recent years that they were afraid I’d do something to stain the Kira name. Sure, they accepted me without questions, but they never really associated with me unless they had to. Minami says it’s because none of them get along. They’re father, who had told me that he hated me, wasn’t kind to them, and that drove a wedge between all six. But, it’ll be okay… I’ve got Minami and that’s all I need. We probably won’t stay long in Japan anyways, right?

              On the flight, Minami had work to do, so I had my headphones in and stared out the window. I never imagined that I’d be on a private jet. The soft music reminded me of the song playing from the diner where I met Minami. It’s been so long, but I still remember it. Crystal clear.

              It had all started with dare.

[freezerburn-week]

Day 1: Soulmate AU

Yang has been waiting for this day for a long time. She’d heard stories from her parents all her life, but now it was her turn. Once the soulmate’s turned 21, they were given a place together, and formally introduced after the government’s algorithm made matches based on personality and genetics. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to wait so long, like poor Uncle Qrow who had only gotten his soulmate 5 years ago.

             She’d been mailed a letter, directions and a single photo. She’d be moving to Vale today, with a full first-class trip. The Schnee Family butler, Klein, would be picking her up and driving her to the apartment. Yang wasn’t sure what the apartment would look like, but judging by Weiss’ picture, it’d be pristine and fancy.

            She’d packed the night before, while the rest of her things would be moved into the apartment later. The ride to the airport was short. After making sure she had all her things, she gave everyone a hug. Dad was crying the most and blubbering about her coming back whenever she wanted to. Thankfully Ruby and their moms were more composed.

The speaker blared out that boarding was allowed. After a few minutes of struggling behind some seniors, she finally found her seat. She pushed her luggage into the overhead compartment and buckled herself in. Maybe she could take a small nap while she waited for takeoff?

Yang was shaken awake later by a scary older woman wearing a lot of black. After apologizing and thanking her, she grabbed her things and left the plane. A portly man with freckles approaches her with a smile. He introduces himself as Klein and brings an ID as proof. After he helps her with her luggage, he opens the door to the car for her.

“Oh, thanks. I could get it myself though.” Yang says, while staring at the inside of the limo. It’s very pretty. Klein instructs her how to use the odd seatbelts before turning the car on and driving away. Vale’s scenery is gorgeous, and the buildings are tall. It takes 30 minutes to get to their destination and Yang is surprised it’s not a tall building. She unbuckles the pesky seatbelt and helps Klein with the luggage.

From the outside the building looks plain, but then they get to the elevator and it’s got both a password and retinal scanner. Klein shows her how to use both and then the elevator opens. It even has a Bellman cart. Klein presses the second-floor button. Yang figured they’d be living at a higher level, but this is good too.    

             The hallway they walk into is large, with a long ornate carpet before a big door. Klein grabs the knocker and releases it twice before announcing their arrival. The clink of heels alerts her, and the sound of multiple locks excite her. Weiss, true to her picture, is gorgeous. She gives a big smile as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

            “I’m glad to finally meet you, Yang.” Weiss says, and gives her a handshake. There’s an awkward pause before she ushers them inside. Weiss shows her the living room, which is spacious and warm. There’s even a fireplace. Next there’s the walk-in closet, half of which is taken up by coats and pullovers.

            Weiss silently shows her the bedrooms, 5 in total. The Master Bedroom is much bigger than her bedroom back in Patch.

            “Wow. So, we’ll be staying in this one tonight?” Yang asks, curious. Weiss flushes and coughs into her hand before looking up at Yang.

            “Yes, if you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with it, we can both stay in this room. I apologize for the bed, Mother bought it recently and I was unsure if you would be comfortable sharing so soon…” Weiss answers.

            “I’m fine with sharing if you are. What better way to get to know each other than to figure out each other’s sleeping habits?” Yang says, winking at Weiss. Her flushed face is cute. Klein interrupts their moment with a call for coffee from the foyer.

            “There’s also tea if you would prefer it. I know coffee isn’t for everyone. I ordered a wide array, since I wasn’t sure what you might like.” Weiss says as she sits down. Sure enough, there’s big array of teabags all lined up neatly on the counter top. Yang takes a coffee from Klein and adds some cream and sugar. It’s good coffee.

            Klein leaves shortly afterwards to go home. Weiss then shows her the kitchen and the high-quality dishes and dishwasher they have. Yang then decides to unpack her luggage.

            “The rest of my things should be here sometime soon. Just some things from my dad’s.” Yang says. Weiss nods and then sits down to help her unpack. The closet is another walk-in. Weiss has her side all color coded, in hangers or folded neatly in clear drawers. Yang is thankful that she’s not messy. They finish putting away the rest of the clothes and then they sit down in the living room.

            Yang decides if she’s ever delegated to the couch that it wouldn’t be too bad. It’s a really nice couch. While looking around, she spots an eraser board by the front door. She hadn’t noticed it when she walked in. Weiss must have noticed her curiosity, since she speaks up.

            “That’s the dry erase board for our daily activities, like my work schedule or plans we might have. Feel free to use it if you’d like. I use the blue marker for myself, and I got you an orange one.” Weiss says, standing up to stretch. She’s actually pretty short, Yang notices.

            The sun is starting to set, so Yang gets up as well. They eat a quick dinner and then head back to their room. Weiss takes a moment to instruct her on how to use the fancy shower things and lets her borrow some toiletries for the night. The water pressure is great and she’s finally able to take a shower with hot water without running out. After stepping out and drying herself off, she realizes she’s forgotten her pajama’s in the other room.

            Weiss knocks on the door to hand her the pajama’s, and Yang is relieved. She quickly changes and dries her hair before letting Weiss know she’s about to enter the room again.

             Weiss has prepared her own pajama’s and is waiting on the right side of the bed.

            “I wasn’t sure which side you would like, so I’ve taken this side. Feel free to use whichever, I have no preference.” Weiss says before starting her own shower. Yang settles down into the left side of the bed, and sighs. It’s been a long day, and this comfy bed makes it so much easier, but she needs to stay awake. She can’t fall asleep without saying goodnight to Weiss.

            Weiss emerges from the shower later, her own hair dried, which takes less time since it’s short. Her pajamas are baby blue in color, and look warm. Weiss heads out of the room with a quick apology and returns minutes later.

            “My nightly ritual is to check all the locks on the doors and windows. I also keep a cold water by my nightstand. I got you one as well, if you don’t mind.” Weiss says. Yang takes it and drinks some before settling under the covers again. Weiss does the same.

            “Goodnight Weiss. Sweet dreams.” Yang murmurs as she falls asleep.

            “Goodnight Yang.” Weiss whispers into the dark.  

[realmzenith]

benke !!!!!!

u truly want me dead but ily so- BUT OK BENKE my meme child

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?.2 seconds i hate him. if he HAD to sit still and he was feeling slightly more chill than usual he could prbly go five minutes. tops. he’s just rlly antsy. he needs to be doing smth w his hands

How easy is it for your character to laugh?EH not super easily but defo more easily than a lot of my other ocs from one to ten one being laughs extremely easily he’s prbly a 4. the key is to find him memes esp political nihilistic memes or fall in front of him bc he’s terrible

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)he doesn’t sleep. e v e r. who do u think he is?? nah jk on a more serious note, he actually doesn’t sleep very easily so usually he just listens to music until he dozes off

How easy is it to earn their trust?gosh that’s. difficult to say. p hard actually?? surprisingly hard for how much of a meme he acts like and how relatively extroverted he is. from one to ten w one meaning it’s very easy to gain his trust i’d say 7

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?he doesn’t rlly attach himself to ppl easily so it’s p easy to get him to not trust u. like he’ll be chill w u but he wont trust u all that much it’s a weird dynamic w him. w one being v easy to get him to distrust and ten very hard, he’s a 5. p much in the middle not rlly too much to one side or another

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?rules are great until they impede him from getting what he’s aimin for :) on a more serious note, he doesn’t rlly give a damn abt most laws like he doesn’t want to go to jail but at the same time if he’s not going to get caught he’s going to do it bc hey wtf yolo

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?LOL NOSTALGia thats a joke he dislikes sappy things n nostalgia falls into that category but he will on v v rare occasions reminisce. certain musical pieces have that effect on him esp the classical ones as he’s grown up w music (being a practical prodigy on the piano and all). he guesses that sometimes it is kind of nice to remember. just once in a while tho. in a while being the key phrase here

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?I MEAN he’s sixteen he’s still technically a child but basically the most common thing he hears is stop slacking and work harder. being an asian kid getting As is? absolutely crucial he’ll be smacked upside the head by his parents if he doesn’t so they always tell him to stop slacking tf off n actually study for once (tbh it’s fine he’s a genius practically he gets As easier than u can say banana split)

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?absolutely and he doesn’t rlly remember but he thinks it was “shit”

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?once he set out twenty peeps just behind the wheels of his mom’s car and when she backed out the entire wheels got covered in peeps and when she came home saying there was all this weird gooey stuff on her wheels and looked pointedly at him. he just blurted out that it was god exacting judgement on her for her sins. it didn’t end well. he ended up washing the entire car by himself. it still haunts him to this day

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?he’ll literally just say “what the fuck” and laugh

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?whine about it until someone scratches it for him dependent on how comfy he is around the ppl he’s with. if he’s not comfy around the ppl he’s w he’ll just sulk internally or scurry off to the bathroom and like, rub his back (presumptively that’s where he can’t reach) against the edge of the stall until the itch is gone bc he’s high

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?he thinks he looks best in all colors also he doesn’t rlly care abt fashion. he looks best in HM like purple or royal blue?? 

What animal do they fear most?he has this weird fear of armadillos and no one knows why it has smth to do w an incident at the zoo when he was six

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?he honestly doesn’t say everything that comes to mind even tho it SOUNDS like he does but he also. basically says everything that comes to mind. it’s odd bc he ends up being rlly engaging in conversation anyways. however he isnt immune to being at a loss for words and when he’s under pressure he will stumble a lil thru what he’s saying. but most of the time what u hear is what he’s thinkin

What makes their stomach turn?ok he’s not SUPER big abt justice or anything like that but if someone’s being torn down he’ll get rlly uncomfy unless he’s the one who initiated it bc he’s like hey hey haha guys dont say that abt them. also he dislikes roly polys w a passion bc they remind him of armadillos :)

Are they easily embarrassed?on one hand he has no shame on the other he does get p flustered if ppl flirt w him and it hits a spot (in a good way)? like he does get embarrassed moderately easily but it takes him a few seconds to realize he should be embarrassed if u get me

What embarrasses them?flirting, if u get a well aimed compliment in that he didn’t expect. also realizing he’s made a fool of himself bc that oftentimes happens but he also rarely realizes it so if he REALIZES he’s made a fool of himself he will get flustered

What is their favorite number?420 duh

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?he’d be like wtf why r u asking me this but if someone he does trust and is close to asked him he’d try his best to give a serious answer after a bout of awkward laughing to make sure they were serious. prbly like “familial love and platonic love are the same thing basically right? i guess platonic love is how u love ur friends so yk brofists and shit and then romantic love is more? special? idk it’s fucking great tho *fingers guns at sev*”

Why do they get up in the morning? his mom makes him get up for school otherwise what is leaving his bed when he can just pull his comp onto his lap while STAYING in his bed and game from there

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? oh he’s very possessive. he’ll defo keep whatever he’s worried abt losing close by to start and if it’s a person- friend or s/o- he’s going to be touching them a lot more. a hand on the back, a hug at the side, running his hands through their hair casually. anything to assert that no back off ur not taking them from me. but if it continues, which it v well may, knowing him, he’s going to start getting snarky n verbally fighting the other person. basically Messy pls reassure him if u are the object of his affections and he’s getting side-eye emoji abt someone 

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? he defo becomes resentful a bit. like he doesn’t get envious over most things- it’s mostly fear of losing the thing once he has it- but when it does he will get resentful and hole up a bit and generally just seem a little ticked

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?yeah he’s comfy talking abt sex. prbly a little too comfy. so basically anyone willing to engage him in the conversation topic will likely hear abt it but he’s calmed down ever since he got involved w sev

What are their thoughts on marriage?marriage is good? but far off and amorphous in his mind. for the most part he’s like there’s nothing wrong w it but it crosses his mind EXTREMELY infrequently   

What is their preferred mode of transportation? preferably in the back of a private plane, squirrel suit gliding or on a giant eagle, none of which he’s ever experienced in his life. but out of the things he has he is fond of sailing when it’s calm out bc he does get seasick a tiny bit. he likes fast cars too

What causes them to feel dread? his mother :) she may be small but she is Frightening

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? he doesnt rlly give a damn so lie most of the time but at the same time if he cares abt the thing and he’s asking u abt it pls do urself a favor and tell him the truth. it’s what he prefers and it’s rare anyways that he actually asks after smth

Do they usually live up to their own ideals? nope. he wants to win a nobel prize, publish a meme compilation book, become a world class pianist, go to pluto- u get the idea. ya boi has many high hopes for himself which he’s not rlly meeting atm. he’s a little all over the place, so despite his many talents he isn’t quite living up to the ideal version of himself he’s seeking after and prbly never will it’ll be very hard to get him to admit this not bc he’s an edgelord or smth but it’s hard to get him to talk abt deeper things but he does sincerely want to be a good moral person which dependent on the day and his level of seriousness he may or may not be living up to in his own eyes as well as in the eyes of others. what can i say he’s kind of a hoe

Who do they most regret meeting? life…. when life’s hand touched upon his little heart and gave him the gift of herself he immediately was filled w Ragret- on a more serious note it’s prbly the armadillo from the zoo

Who are they the most glad to have met? sev? he also adores his piano teacher but good luck getting him to admit that w heartfelt sincerity 

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? it’s honestly whatever’s the most recent thing he observed, heard or experienced when it comes to stories. he has no shortage of words to say and his fav sort of memes and jokes are politically nihilistic ones. so those are? in a way his go to?

Could they be considered lazy? yes. he only applies himself if he’s interested and for most of school he has no qualms abt being a lil sus and casually “accidentally” getting the answers to things so yeah that’s. that could be considered lazy. however, when he does care abt smth he will absolutely dedicate himself to it. he practices piano consistently and diligently day in and day out so it honestly depends on if he cares or not

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? v difficult. he rarely becomes guilty for longer than .4 seconds but when it does he’s srsly going to internalize that bc if he’s feeling guilty he prbly f-ed up real bad. he also won’t rlly talk abt it to anyone so it’s even more likely it’ll just get internalized 

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? that’s extremely dependent on who it is and what it is. if it’s sev he’ll b v supportive but sev is a VERY big exception in most cases also sev rarely gets visibly excited abt things so it’s usually a cause for celebration when he does. if josie (his bff) is excited abt smth? if he can relate he’ll be excited for her but if he can’t he’ll TRY his best but there will be some teasing involved bc that’s how he diffuses confusion. their other bff will get the same treatment but w slightly more effort bc she’s more sensitive but gosh if it’s someone he doesn’t know rlly well he’ll be rlly confused he’ll be like good for u ha?? or someone he knows casually. they’ll get teased so he tries but he also sucks at life. for such a great analyst he’s terrible at being socially delicate

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap? tbh prbly actively seek it. he defo pursued sev before they got together

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? he doesn’t rlly give a damn abt ppl’s names but if it’s say a piano piece it’s honestly just cold, hard repetition 

What memory do they revisit the most often? he doesn’t reminisce often hes a p go go go type of guy but if he does it’s prbly abt sev. neither of them voice it often but they’re both rlly grateful for the other

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? see, he’s kind of oblivious he doesn’t rlly think abt these things but when something annoys him? oh it annoys him and he’s going to make no effort to hide it or ignore it. so he’s honestly rlly bad at ignoring other ppl’s flaws. he’s a bit of a b like that 

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?very

How do they feel about children? no particular opinion! he’s the younger sib by quite a bit so he’s always been kind of the baby. he thinks kids are fine and he’s actually p good w them but he’d prefer to not babysit or anything like that. there are better more enjoyable things he could be doing w his time. as for having kids he almost never thinks abt that so he’s got no opinion there either. what happens happens after all

How badly do they want to reach their end goal? he doesn’t particularly have One End Goal but he has many aspirations and if he cares abt smth he will do everything in his power to reach it at least within reason. so p badly relatively speaking? 

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? he’s bi so if someone asked him to explain it he’d be like “it means idc what someone’s gender is when it comes to whether i want to fuck or not ;)” yes i hate him too

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

A) Why are you excited about this character?MEME KING but also i’m excited to try and work out the balance between apathy, drive and subtle but very much present care for the ppl around himB) What inspired you to create them?i need a best friend for the main chara of the story benke is a part of! additionally, he shares a lot of character traits w an irl friend of mine so it’s a bit of a nod to themC) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?nope! benke was created for the purpose of filling a role tho honestly he’s spun a wild story for himself somehow looking @ u sevD) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?i must admit benke does NOT have a set appearance as of the present. he’s afab nb and does nothing to present as more masculine than he naturally appears. he’s indian, 5′4″ and he’s got short hair w highlights but beyond that i’m still working out his appearance E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?yes on a surface level to both. we’d meme together but at a deeper level we wouldn’t make good close friends. benke’s brand of caring for ppl is nearly opposite to mine and bc we’re already both unconventional in how we show we care abt someone we’d prbly both end up feeling neglected. there’d be a lot of miscommunication and honestly, ya boi would get on my nerves n i’d prbly get on hisF) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?TIRED he TIRES me but also a bit of pride bc he’s growinG) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?where do i begin. prbly how he’s unintentionally self centered. benke is far from uncaring abt his friends he will do crazy stupid brave things for them if it ever came to that but it’s hard for him to see why some of the things he says hurt other ppl’s feelings esp if they’re diff from him. he’ll be like ?? why u offended i didn’t say anything mean. he’s also RLLY bad at handling serious emotions even when they sometimes do need to be dealth wH) What trait do you admire most?HM prbly his knack for being a great conversationalist. ppl like him even if he isn’t the most popular bc he’s funny and p chill. he doesn’t have too much drama so it’s like hey there’s the meme guy even tho he’s kinda weird and tbh goals. being a good conversationalist can get u places and ease up SO many social situationsI) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?PRBLY but also i think he’d do rlly well in a sci fi universe eyes emojiJ) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?nah not rlly?? not yet at least ! 

[hide-the-cutlery]

It’s one of those stupid nights where I keep checking my phone, just hoping to see something from someone.

I’m lonely. The kind of lonely that digs at your insides.

I had a really vivid dream about my ex last night. I was in a car with I think (?) his actual girlfriend/fiancée/wife, and his mom was there, talking to us. She was talking about him finishing his high school diploma (he graduated irl, with me, actually, but I didn’t know him at the time...) and then start college. And, as it always is in these dreams, he’s not with me, and I’m trying to get him to talk or listen to me, because I’m desperately telling him he’s with the wrong girl... that it’s me, not her (whoever she might be).

In this dream, I spoke to her. I asked if they’d ever broken up, and she said yes. I asked why, and she said because of some other woman, and I asked “Nicole?” And she said yes! I laughed. A big, ugly, fake, “I knew it!”, sucks for you, laugh. I don’t remember what really happened after that. I did have sleep paralysis in either that dream or another one later in the afternoon. I slept a lot today. Sleep paralysis is terrifying. I kept trying to move and thinking I did move, only to realize I was actually still frozen. I even tried to yell for someone to come wake me, but I think only a nonsense muffle came out, if anything. The strange part was I trying to get my vibrator (which hasn’t seen any action in like 2+ years) and a toy I don’t even have anymore. Finally, I woke up. I tend to have sleep paralysis when I take naps. And sexual dreams. Fun fact: I have orgasms in my sleep. And believe me, they’re very real. I guess I at least get some tension out that way, because I don’t even try anymore. To touch on an entry I think I started yesterday, the last time I actually enjoyed sex (besides when I was with a woman) was my ex, who shares a name with one of my celebrity crushes. He’s most known for playing a certain “villain” in a very popular space saga, but he is a phenomenal actor in everything I’ve seen from him. (It’s Adam Driver 🙄)

Anyways, (my) Adam was special, but I was too deep in my disease to see it. Well, I did see it, I just didn’t know what to do with it. He was on pills, and I was drinking heavily. We both were. I used to be floored with how fast he’d go through bottles of Percocet and Soma, along with alcohol, when now I go through my meds just as fast. He loved nature and was a very emotional person. I’ve never seen a guy cry so much, but it was okay. I liked how vulnerable and open he could be. When I was sad, he’d play his guitar and sing to me. I miss that — a lot. He wanted to go off and live in a commune, and I wanted to be a doctor with a nice house with a “white picket fence”, all that. We both couldn’t see the merit in each other’s visions. I’d take off with him to a commune right now if I could. I think of messaging him all the time, but I’m too shy. I check every so often to see if he’s still on my Facebook. (He is.) Funny I worry about interacting with someone I once shared such an intimate bond with.

I got into it with my family again. I tried to have a conversation with them regarding how difficult it will be to get a job with all that’s going on. It was supposed to be just a neutral thing, but it blew up, like always. They don’t understand how my poor mental health is impairing my general functioning. I don’t understand why my mental health is impairing me so much. I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I’m getting tired of it. I need more help than I’m getting. I tried to get more help than I’m getting, and it didn’t work out. It was no fault of my own.. last year I was supposed to spend a few weeks in an inpatient facility, and I got accepted, but my insurance wouldn’t cover it because I hadn’t been hospitalized recently enough. I could get myself hospitalized, easily, but I feel like that’s a bad idea and I should avoid that. But I wouldn’t have to tell a single lie to get baker acted.

Q: Do you think about hurting yourself or other people?

-I did last week.

Q: Do you think about suicide?

-Constantly.

Q: Do you want to kill yourself?

-I don’t know. I’m just so tired. Things aren’t working out in this life, and since I got sober, I can’t think of a single thing that makes this miserable existence worth it (besides my cats, and their lives aren’t good because I can’t give them something better). Maybe what comes after this is better. I like to think our spirits are working their way through the Universe. Sometimes I’m ready to just say “okay, this one (existence) sucks — NEXT.”

Who knows — maybe something good would come of it. I met Adam in a hospital, in the psych ward, after we’d both been baker acted. They gave me Remeron to sleep, and it made my legs give out. I crawled out of my room to get a nurse, and he was sitting in a red, comfy chair outside my doorway. He helped me get off the floor and got me a nurse. He waited with me while me and the nurses waited to hear back from the on-call doctor. We were both really drugged, and he talked to me about books. I think he was telling me he was really into Lewis Carroll. I’d read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland at least, so I didn’t look that stupid. He would get the vegetarian meals (I can’t recall if I did, too), and we’d make fun of them. I remember when I got discharged and my dad came to get me, we were leaving, and I saw him on my way out. He had elected to stay a few days extra, but we hugged and swapped numbers. About a month later, I sent him a text, and within a few weeks, we hung out a few times, and had one crazy night together that I don’t think either of us expected, but we definitely wanted it. Then we got separated for a while, but stayed in contact — phone calls and letters. I loved his letters. He’d adorn them with lyrics and doodles, just like I do. I kept them all. What a sweet guy. God, I’m so tempted right now. Just to say “hi there, I wonder how you’re doing (a lot? Frequently? From time to time? Occasionally?), and I hope it’s well.” Why can’t I just say that? Ugh, I’m such a pussy.

Anyway, my parents and I fought again. My dad did acknowledge that I have health problems, but I know he thinks I’m making too much of them or is in complete denial. My mother just doesn’t get it. She twists my words and tries to make me sound nasty, condescending, lazy, etc... I asked my dad how old I was when they realized I wasn’t “right”, and he kinda dodged the question, saying he never really thought I wasn’t “right”. I’ve been talking to a friend a lot lately, one of the only people who understands me. She seems to think I might be a survivor of childhood (sexual?) abuse, because she is herself, and says comparing my behavior and demeanor to hers and other abuse survivors, I just scream TRAUMA. I brushed it off at first, but I’m realizing some things, like my lack of memories as a child and the fear I felt as a child that I still carry with me today. I guess there’s more, like the way I respond to people, my anxiety, “The Third” part of me, how I disassociate at times, my rampant addictions... the list goes on. Maybe she’s on to something, or maybe she’s planting falsities in my already crooked mind. I do know she’s brought me to a very unique state two or three times now, where it’s like I’m having terrifying epiphanies. Why can’t my therapists work that hard at cracking me?

I don’t think I’ve written about “The Third” yet — not by name at least. The Third is the part of me that separates itself from the rest of me (I imagine it to hover over my right shoulder) that talks to me in stressful situations. It’s typically always criticism of my behavior or accusing me of lying. “Shut up! You know that’s not true! They don’t care! You sound stupid! Why the fuck did you say that?! You’re an idiot! Tell the truth! Tell the fucking truth!” At first he didn’t have a name, but I guess he and I came up with “The Third” together, because people are typically two things: mind and body. This is a third extension of me. Maybe everyone has a part of them hovering over them, smashing their nose in the dirt, or maybe not. I tried to tell my psychiatrist about him, but he was pretty dismissive. He did, however, change up all my meds again. He put me on something he said he’s seen work well for people who are having mixed episodes of bipolar disorder. I’ve never been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, although my last therapist (who told me I had BPD) said she “wasn’t sure” I didn’t have it. I don’t think I have it. I’ve had some manic spells, for sure, and I guess I do have depression, even though I don’t like to admit it. For some reason, I’m not okay with the thought of just having depression. I feel like my symptoms are too much for just having MDD. I’ve been on practically every SSRI on the market, and I just don’t respond to them. He’s dropped the phrase “treatment-resistant depression”, but I think it’s more likely that I’m being misdiagnosed. My big problems are my bizarre thinking, anxiety, and panic attacks, not depression. The things that make me sad are situational. I know situational depression can turn into clinical depression quickly, but I still don’t consider it what I most importantly need help with.

In other news, we acquired Tom Brady, and Biden won FL. For shame.

[wonderfulworldofwinchester]

The Angel Is Off His Rocker

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, Cas, Jody 

Warnings: language. (I’m horrible at these. If you see something that should be added, please let me know :D)

MASTERLIST 

A/N: This is unedited, so please excuse any grammar/spelling errors. Also, it autocorrects sometimes when I type too fast, so please excuse any weird words. I think I caught all of those, but just beware haha. 

Based on this imagine: imagine going to Jody to vent after Cas says he thinks you are in love with Sam. 

“I don’t hive a crap anymore. Just do whatever the hell you want.” You snapped, slamming the book you had in front of you closed. 

The boys exchanged a confused look for the umpteenth time this week. The truth was you had been having these little outbursts over nothing the past few days, and it wasn’t like you could exactly tell them why. Hell, you didn’t even know why. You were constantly on edge. Everything ticked you off. 

“Y/N, what’s going on with you? Did I do something to upset you?” Sam inquired, genuine concern filling his eyes. He hated seeing you so upset, and not being able to do anything about it. 

You stood up from the table, gritting your teeth, “I’m fine. Just tired I guess.” 

“Y/N, If you need to talk-”

“Goodnight Sam” You said a little more forcefully than you had intended, but you also wanted to make a point. Once you made it to your room, and changed into a baggy sweatshirt, you crawled straight into bed. Thoughts swam in circles, and you chased them, desperate for some sort of answer. The boys inevitably annoyed you from time to time, but that was different. It was expected, and it had a clear cut answer for what they did that pissed you off. This past week, all Sam had to do was breath funny, and you were ready to rip his head off. 

Wait. That was part of it right there. Dean had ticked you off, yes, but more often than not it was Sam. That’s odd. Out of the two it was usually the elder one that rubbed you the wrong way. Most of the time, you got along great with Sam. Why the sudden change? What happened? You couldn’t put your finger on it. It’s not like he had done anything to make you mad in the last week. 

The boys stayed in the library, continuing their research, and discussing the previous events that had taken place that night. Dean cleared his throat, “Man you really pissed her off this time. it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her get that upset over something so small.”

“That’s just it, Dean. I didn’t do anything. Hell, she hasn’t given me much of an opportunity to do anything recently. She gets miffed, and walks away if i even look at her, and god forbid we get left alone somewhere.” 

Just then Castiel popped in, bringing back some info for the current case. After he relayed his message, Sam decided to ask him if he had noticed anything different about you, or if he knew something they didn’t. 

“I have noticed that she seems to be angrier. I do not know the reason why.” He stated. “I will see what I can find out.” 

“No, Cas, don’t-” too late, he was already gone. 

You were still sitting in bed, mind racing, unable to get to sleep, when Cas suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed. “JESUS, Cas. We’ve talked about this. You can’t just appear in my room. Please land outside the door, and knock next time.” 

“My apologies. I will try to remember that next time.” He walked around to the side of the bed, “Y/N, Why are you angry all the time?” 

You rolled away from him, “Ugh, Cas, I don’t need a shrink. Go away.” 

“I don’t understand why Sam makes you angry. If you are in love with him, shouldn’t he make you happy?” 

Oh the innocence and curiosity in his tone was so cute. WAIT. WHAT? Did he just say what you think he said. “Excuse me?” You rolled back over to him. “Did you just say that I was in love with Sam?” 

“That is correct.” 

Your threw your hand up over your eyes, “Cas, get out.” 

You spent the next hour mulling over what Cas had said. He’s crazy, He has lost his little angel mind, Was all you kept telling yourself. You so wished you had someone to talk this through with. Someone you could just vent to. Normally, you would have gone to Sam, but that would be a little awkward, given it was about him. Also, you were still a little peeved. 

That’s when it hit you. JODY. You had gotten really close with her over the past year. Trusting her to the things you couldn’t tell the boys, there wasn’t much of it, but she was there when something did come up. 

It was around two in the morning when you went traipsing through he bunker, duffle in tow, heading for the garage. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Dean’s voice boomed through the air. 

“None of your damn business Winchester!” You bit, not stopping your journey. 

Sam heard the commotion, and rounded the corner, almost running into you, “Woah, where are you going? It’s like two am.” 

“What am I child? You don’t have to keep tabs on me. I can handle myself, thank you.” 

Sam grabbed your arm, “Y/N, you don’t have to give me all the details, just tell me where you are going, okay? Please.” His eyes were laced with the kind of worry and concern, that can only be described as Sam’s. 

You yanked your arm away from him. After you got over the initial jolt of anger from having him grab you, you didn’t look at him any longer, but still answered. It came out as a soft whisper, far from the bitter hiss that had been your most used tone lately. “Jody’s. I just need a couple days away.”

In only a few short hours, you were at Jody’s door, just in time for breakfast. You had texted her a heads up, so you didn’t feel like you were just barging in on her. She had given you a key to her place a few months back, so you rapped your knuckles against the door a couple times, then inserted the key, and let yourself in. “Hey Jody!” You called out, making sure you wouldn’t startle her, if she hadn’t heard you come in. 

She was in the kitchen making some pancakes and bacon. Yum. “Hey, Y/N! hope you’re hungry” she smiled, making her way over, and wrapping you in a warm hug. Those had been something you’d also grown to love over the time you’ve known her. They were something that made you feel at ease, like you were at home. She loved you like family, and you never doubted that. You wanted to say she was kind of like a mother to you, but at the same time, she was way too cool, and calling her a mother figure, kinda made you feel like you were calling her old. She was kinda like the cool aunt you got to pal around with, but still had a few years on you, so she could give you the advice you needed. 

Most of the morning was spent laughing and catching up over breakfast. These were the moments you enjoyed with her most. It was nice to see her happy and carefree for a while. She had so much on her plate, and wears doing her best to raise the girls she had taken in. “So, don’t think I’m going to let you get off that easy. What’s got you in a tailspin missy?” 

“What are you talking about, Jody?” Truthfully, you hadn’t told Jody why you were stopping by, other than you just wanted to have some girl time. You had pretty much abandoned the thought to telling her what Cas had said becuase it was just too crazy.

“Oh come on. I know you well enough to know when you’re caught up on something, so spill” she said as she got comfy in the chair, propping her chin on her hand, giving you that grin. “Out with it woman.” 

You plopped down on the couch, letting out a frustrated sigh. Why did you think this was going to be a good idea. “Well, let’s see, where do I begin? I mean I have been a bitch for no apparent reason over the past week and a half. Seriously I have no idea why. Everything just sort of pisses me off. I have almost bit the boys’ heads off serveral times. You’d think it was Dean being an ass that was making me this way, but shockingly, Sam has been the one who seems to trigger it. He hasn’t even done anything either.” Good lord, once you started talking, it all just came out, like a dam had broken. “Oh and don’t even get me started on Cas’ theory.” 

Jody was having way too much fun watching you explain this. You were so animated, talking with you hands, and making all kinds of facial expressions. Of course she knew all along what the problem was. She was able to spot it from day one. You may not have always been in love with him, but you were always close with him, and she knew it was only a matter of time. 

“So after he pops in in announced, he decides to tell me he thinks I’m acting strange because I am in love with Sam.” You were up pacing in front of the couch at this point. “The angel is off his rocker. I mean come on, where does he get off telling me how I feel. That’s just nuts. Sam is like a brother to me. It would just be weird. I can’t be in love with my brother. There are laws against that, you know.” Jody couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at that last part. “Jody, seriously? This is no laughing matter. Please help me figure out why I am going nuts, so I can prove to him, that that’s not the reason.”

The longer you went on, the more comical it became. It seemed more like you were trying to convince yourself that you he was wrong. Jody was trying to wait to see if you’d get there on your own. “I’m serious. Like can he please just mind his own business, and stay the hell out of my love life! There are far more pressing issues.” When you stopped pacin , you were standing directly in front of her on the other side of the coffe table, hand on your hips, “Where would he even get that crazy idea?” 

Jody sat up a little, cocked her head to the side, giving you that signature Jody smile, “Is it really that crazy?” 

Your arms dropped, and your eyes widened, “You have got to be kidding me. You think I’m in love with Sam too?” 

“Are you?” It was a simple question. Yes or no. You should have been able to give a response in seconds, but something about it seemed so hard to answer. After all that convincing you just did, you couldn’t say no. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to say yes. You back down on the couch. Every now and then you’d open your mouth to say something, only to have nothing but a small sound come out, sollowed by immediate closing of you mouth. “You’re thinking too much. Stop trying to rationalize everything for a moment. Just relax, and let yourself feel instead of telling yourself how to feel.”  She gave you a couple seconds, “Are you in love with Sam?”

You sat there just staring at the coffee table for a second, letting yourself stop racing around inside your head for the first time in a long time. After what seemed like an eternity you had come to a conclusion, “Holy shit...” you said, slowly looking up a Jody. Little did you know, while you were zoned out, she grabbed your keys off the table. 

She quirked an eyebrow at you, holding them up, “Go.” 

If you want to be added to one of my tag lists, just ask :) I have 3 main tag lists: The Anything and Everthing, The Sammy Boy, and The Deano. Feel free to ask about being tagged in any other character as well, or just in certain types of fics. I love y’all! 

The Anything and Everything Tag List: @tillielynn16 @fandomaskedstuff @naruko88558855 @hillface89 @saltysamgirls @unusualcorn

The Sammy Boy Tag list:  @ahdysj22

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part V (x OC)

Summary: Maggie meets Diana, and it goes better than she expected. Maggie meets the team, and it doesn’t go completely as planned. Spencer’s spidey senses are tingling.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol/drinking, reader gets drunk on accident and is incredibly insecure and self-deprecating, I think that’s it

Word count: 5k

a/n: Thank you all for your kind words in this really sad and weird moment of my life. This couple brings me so much joy and I’m absolutely dreading the hurt that’s coming in the next part. Sorry in advance 😭 But also, you can re-read Lighthouse and First of Many before the angst!!!!!! If you haven’t read those fics, I recommend it because there are some relevant connections. ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

Maggie felt his hands sneaking around her waist, rubbing low over her tummy, and then the press of his warm body along her back. She tilted her head to make room for him to settle his chin on her shoulder, smiling as his hands completed their journey and wrapped her up tight. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she answered, pressing their cheeks together. 

“Are you almost done?”

“You made quite the mess, doctor.” It was the last weekend of Spencer’s sabbatical, and he had spent the afternoon cooking all of her favorite foods— a sort of preemptive gift for when he was back on the BAU’s unpredictable schedule. She’d taken on the responsibility of the dishes in return, which was no easy undertaking considering it seemed as though he’d used every single pot, pan, and utensil in her kitchen. 

“If you’d let me help, you’d be done by now,” he complained, hugging her a little tighter and turning his head to drag his lips across her cheek. 

“Let me just finish this pan, and then I’m all yours.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then another to the spot behind her ear, and one more to her shoulder. Then he propped his chin once more and rubbed his thumbs where they rested against her sides. 

She laughed a little as she ran the dish brush along the edges of the pan. “Comfy?”

He hummed his confirmation, and she could feel his smile as she lathered the inside of the pan, then rinsed it, and finally drained the sink. She dried her hands on the kitchen towel and turned to face him. He didn’t remove his hands, instead just let them glide over her hips and then settle on her lower back. 

“Thank you for all of that.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the fridge, packed full of leftovers. “My mom will be so honored to know you made her pot pie.” 

“I could eat it every day for the rest of my life and be very, very happy.” He dropped his gaze and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Speaking of moms, I… I was wondering if you, um— if you’d want to meet my mom?” 

Her eyes went a little wide, and he took her silence as an answer, continuing, “You don’t have to. It—it’s too soon.”

She brought a hand up to cup his chin between her fingers, bringing his eyes back to hers. “I would love to meet your mom.” 

…

Spencer shut off the engine of the Volvo, turning in his seat to face her. She tried to settle her nerves without also spurring his own anxiety, which had been quite obviously flaring all morning. 

“I’ll check in and visit for a few minutes, try to gauge what kind of a day it is, and then I’ll text you to come in or not.” He ran a hand over his face. “I really should have had you drive separate, because if it’s not a good day I don’t want you to have to wait around while I visit with her, but she’s been having a lot of good days recently, and—”

“Honey.” She found his hands where they were clutching a little aggressively at his leg and covered them with her own, running her thumbs soothingly along his skin. “It’s okay. Either way— whether I meet her today or we wait for a better day— it’s okay.”

He closed his eyes and breathed a relieved sigh. “Have I told you how much I love you yet today?”

“Mm, I don’t think you have,” she smiled. 

He brought her hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of each. “I love you so much. The most.”

“I beg to differ.” She leaned over the console and kissed his nose. “I definitely love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He shifted to meet her lips in a quick kiss. “I’ll text you in a few minutes?”

She gave him another kiss. “Sounds like a plan.”

Spencer dropped the keys into her hand and then climbed out of the car, closing the door and practically trotting toward the building. She would have laughed if it weren’t for the raging anxiety that was nearly suffocating her. She opened her door and put her legs out the side of the car, taking a deep breath and looking out over the parking lot. 

Maggie knew that meeting Diana was a good thing. That Spencer wanted her to meet the most important woman in his life was a testament to their relationship. But the closer she got to it, the more she felt completely and totally out of place. What did she have to offer this woman’s remarkable son other than a mountain of student loan debt, an endless supply of expo markers, and an ever growing collection of toilet paper rolls? 

She loved teaching kindergarten, and she was the first to defend the profession in most settings. But she was about to be in a room with two of the most brilliant minds on the planet, and she couldn’t help but wonder what she would possibly have to contribute. More than that, what would Diana Reid think of her son settling for someone so… ordinary?

Her phone buzzed with the incoming text message, and she bit back a sigh. 

Spencer: It’s an incredible day. She’s already asking about you. 

Maggie turned her face up to the clear blue sky, feeling the sun on her face and taking a deep breath. Then, she hoisted herself out of the vehicle, locking it and turning to walk toward the building. DC was hot and sticky this time of year, and she was grateful for the blast of air conditioning as she entered the facility.

The woman at the front desk— Suzanna, by her name tag— smiled kindly at her. “How can I help you?”

“I’m, um— I’m here to visit with Diana Reid.” Maggie began signing into the visitor’s log, smiling a little at Spencer’s hasty signature right above. “Her son is here, too— Spencer.”

“Ah, yes— you must be Maggie. Diana’s been so excited to meet you.” Suzanna chuckled lightly at her expression, and Maggie wondered just how much everyone already knew about her. “They’re just through there— in the sunroom.” 

Maggie mumbled her thanks and turned in the direction of the sunroom, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from the skirt of her dress. She’d spent far too long getting ready this morning, including steaming the dress— a simple number with a black bodice and a skirt covered in books. It was her own personal nod to the incredible legacy that Diana had left— not only as a professor of classic literature, but also as the mother of the most incredible reader— and man— she’d ever met. 

And now she had a moment of panic, wondering if maybe it was too on the nose, or if Diana would think it was silly and immature. She briefly considered turning and heading back out to the parking lot, but then Spencer appeared in the doorway to the sunroom, waving his thanks to Suzanna and then positively beaming at her. How could she deny him this?

He held out his hand to her, and she accepted it, instantly more at ease from the simple touch. He pulled her gently into the room, and there was Diana, perched on a floral sofa and looking quite elegant in a soft purple shawl. 

She stood immediately, an absolutely radiant smile stretching across her face at the sight of them. Maggie watched as she clasped her hands in front of her and felt Spencer squeeze her hand at the same time.

“Maggie,” Diana smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Maggie returned her smile. “It is such an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Reid.”

She scoffed and waved her hand. “Just Diana, please.” Maggie saw the moment she noticed the dress, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. “I can already tell you’re perfect for my son: the lover of books.” She motioned to the seating area. “Come, sit.”

The three of them sat, Spencer in the armchair just across from them as she and Diana sat on the sofa. Maggie folded her hands in her lap and tried to straighten her posture. Diana leaned back against the couch with a smile.

“I really have heard a lot about you,” she repeated, sliding her eyes over to a blushing Spencer. “Spencer tells me you teach kindergarten.” Maggie nodded, and Diana shook her head. “I deeply admire the patience and energy you must have for that age group.”

Maggie laughed a little. “They can certainly be a handful. I hear you were a teacher as well.” Her eyes went a little wide at her mistake. “A professor, I mean.”

“Oh, yes, yes— 15th century literature.” Diana tilted her head, considering Maggie with a knowing gaze. “But teaching is teaching, no matter the age. And where would any of us be without our kindergarten teachers? The ones who teach us the very foundations of learning. Who not only teach us to read and write, but also to inquire and investigate and discover.” 

Maggie felt unexpected tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she had to take a moment to breathe before speaking. “Thank you for saying that. Sometimes people assume that kindergarten is all play doh and finger paint.”

“What’s that saying about making assumptions?” Diana pondered. 

“Issac Asimov said, ‘Assumptions are our windows on the world,’” Spencer offered. 

“Mm, thank you for that, honey, but the one I’m thinking of is from an episode of The Odd Couple, I believe,” Diana corrected, winking at Maggie. “When you assume, you make an ass of you and me.” 

“Ah.” Spencer held back a laugh, and Maggie’s heart felt just a little bit lighter. 

Diana smiled brightly at her. “Your students must absolutely adore you.” Diana gestured vaguely to Spencer before continuing, “Spencer loved his kindergarten teacher— hm, Mrs. Hudson, was it?” 

Spencer nodded in confirmation. Diana looked back to Maggie with a slightly mischievous grin. “His report cards always came back with the note that he was ‘helping’ the other students just a little too much— always the professor, even at five years old.”

Spencer let out an indignant squeak, and Maggie laughed. “My parents got a very similar note.” She gave Spencer a smile. “We just couldn’t help it, apparently.”

“I’m sure it didn’t help that he’d been reading for three years before he was even enrolled,” Diana mused. “Did he tell you that he originally considered studying the classics?” Maggie shook her head. “Well. When you’ve already read and discussed all the course material, it seems a waste of money, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, I suppose it does,” Maggie agreed. 

“Oh,” Diana tapped Maggie’s arm affectionately before gesturing back to Spencer, “and then there was the time that he became so fixated on the idea of becoming a magician that he somehow managed to trap a rabbit in our backyard.”

“Mom,” Spencer choked out. 

“Oh my. No, no— please go on,” Maggie begged, waving her hand dismissively in Spencer’s direction and leaning closer to Diana. “I need all the embarrassing stories.” 

Diana let out a lilting laugh. “The poor thing spent the better part of a weekend in a storage bin while Spencer tried to figure out the top hat trick.”

Maggie turned to him with a bewildered grin. “The storage bin was well ventilated!” he defended. “And she had plenty of food and water.”

“Did you figure out the trick?” Maggie asked. 

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “Mom found out about the rabbit before I could. And you need more than just the hat for the trick anyway.”

“We fed her one last carrot and then sent her back out to be with the rest of her bunny family, who must have been missing her dearly.” Diana winked at Maggie. “At least that’s what I had to tell six year old Spencer.”

“Rabbits are incredibly social and live in large colonies, so that actually was most likely the case,” Spencer supplied. 

Diana smiled fondly at her son, and Maggie could practically feel the love radiating off of her. “Either way, I had one very sad little boy for the next week or so.” She turned back to Maggie. “We actually took a break from some of the more... advanced reading material so that I could read him The Tale of Peter Rabbit.”

“A classic in its own right,” Maggie said. 

Diana nodded. “I’ve always said that children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and imaginative storytelling. We can learn a lot from Peter and Ferdinand.”

“I love Ferdinand!” Maggie gasped. “Gosh, that’s one of my all time favorite books. My mom read it to me when I was little, and I read it to my kids every year.”

Diana threw her hands up. “And that right there tells me everything I need to know about your teaching. Well— that and everything Spencer’s already gushed about, of course.” 

The three of them spent the better part of the afternoon laughing and trading embarrassing childhood stories. Diana was even more lovely than she could have imagined, and Maggie was grateful to be so quickly accepted into the small but incredibly loving family unit. 

Every so often, she would catch Spencer’s eyes on her— soft and content and practically sparkling— and her heart would leap into her throat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, letting Diana lead most of their side of the conversation, only chiming in here and there to offer context or defend himself in a particularly mortifying tale. Diana unwittingly (or perhaps purposefully) revealed just how much Spencer had spoken about her; she already knew about Maggie’s home, her family, and most of her interests. 

Spencer may have been quiet, but he was also blushing profusely— caught in the act of being absolutely enamored with her. Maggie found that she didn’t know how to feel about that. She should be happy. She should be thrilled. And in some ways, she was. Being with Spencer had made her the happiest she’d been in a very long time— maybe ever. 

It was the happiness that scared her. 

She deserved happiness. That’s what Anita would tell her. But the way she felt with Spencer— comfortable, natural, easy— was the rising action. She was still anticipating the climax, the mountaintop, the apex of joy. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help it. She’d learned that every mountain had a valley, and the falling action always dragged her against every jagged stone on the way down. She never failed to plummet down from the heights into the depths of where she’d learned to live, quiet and lonely and a little bit bruised. 

This knowledge didn't stop her from soaking up every second of the highs.  

“I’m starting to get a little tired,” Diana admitted. She reached across the couch and patted Maggie’s hand, squeezing gently, and then she looked to Spencer. “I start to— forget when I’m tired.” 

The smile that had become almost permanent that afternoon faltered slightly, but he nodded and checked his watch. “Four hours is pretty good.”

She hummed. “They’ve been longer as of late.” 

Maggie watched as his nose twitched. “Does Dr. Kincaid think that’s good or bad?” 

Diana gave him a sympathetic smile. “She’s not sure.”

It was quiet for a long moment, and then Maggie stood. “Let me give you a minute together.” Diana stood as well, and Maggie clasped her hands together. “I don’t think I can articulate how incredibly happy I am to have finally met you. And I— I definitely don’t have the words to properly thank you for raising such a wonderful man.” 

Diana took her hands, squeezing them gently before pulling her into a hug. Maggie returned the embrace, and Diana murmured, “Thank you for loving him. Through the highs and the lows.” 

Maggie blinked back tears for the second time that day, nodding into Diana’s shoulder and hugging her tightly. 

With a final squeeze, Diana released her, and Maggie excused herself back out into the foyer. She signed out of the visitor log and waved to a grinning Suzanna, and then headed outside to catch her breath. She made it to the car, unlocking it and settling into the passenger seat before leaning over to turn it on and get the windows rolled down. 

Spencer emerged from the building, his hands in his pockets. He quickly made his way to the vehicle, practically running across the parking lot and sliding behind the wheel. Before she could even say anything, he was surging across the console to grab her face in his hands and pull her into a kiss. 

She steadied herself with her hands on his chest, clutching at his shirt and returning the unexpected passion with a slightly bewildered smile. When he was finished, he pulled back to lean their foreheads together. She caught her breath and asked, “What was that for?”

“She loved you, and I love you, and I’m so glad you got to meet her.” 

She could hear the emotion in his voice, and she slid her arms around his back, pulling him into a hug. “Me, too.”

He leaned into her for a minute longer, breathing into her hair and pressing another kiss to her shoulder. Then he pulled back, smiling widely. “How would you feel about meeting the other family?”

…

Spencer drove them to meet up with the team at O’Keefe’s, a favorite haunt of theirs on the evenings when they’d wrapped a case at a reasonable hour. They headed up the sidewalk hand in hand, with Maggie leaning a little into his side. She was feeling slightly more at ease this time around thanks to the buffer of knowing Penelope, Luke, and JJ already. 

Spencer held the door open, trailing in behind her with a hand on her waist. She spotted Penelope’s bright green dress immediately, and Spencer raised his hand in greeting. The group gave them a raucous cheer, and Maggie couldn’t help but smile.

Spencer kept his hand on the small of her back as they approached the table. He greeted the group and then turned to Maggie, gesturing around the table. He introduced her to Tara, Matt, and Emily, the three of whom greeted her with warm handshakes. Penelope was practically vibrating with excitement as she scooped her up into a hug. 

“Gosh dang it, you are just so cute,” Penelope squeaked. She pulled back from the hug to take stock of Maggie’s outfit. “The books, I love it. And the shoes!” 

Maggie laughed, twirling her ankle to show off the pink t-strap heels. “I’m definitely going to regret them in about an hour. But they look cute anyway.”

Tara sidled up to the two of them, raising her glass in solidarity. “Here’s to cute shoes and pinched toes.” She took a sip of her scotch and then turned to Maggie. “What’s your poison?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Maggie insisted. 

Tara waved her hand and gestured to Spencer. “You got grandpa to come out to the bar. You’re not paying for a single drink tonight.”

“I come out with you guys!” he squeaked indignantly. 

A chorus of exasperated groans made their way around the group, followed by good-natured laughs. Tara raised a single eyebrow in Spencer’s direction, and then turned her attention back to Maggie. “Like I said, you won’t need your wallet tonight. What’ll it be?”

…

She did not, in fact, have to reach for her wallet at all that evening. Between the seven of them, Maggie’s cup was always full and her smile was nearly permanent. She heard endless stories about Spencer, complete with photo evidence— much to his dismay. 

She learned that Tara had a doctorate in forensic psychology, and Emily had worked internationally for years becoming the Unit Chief of the BAU. Luke had been an Army Ranger and a member of the Fugitive Task Force, and Matt had traveled the globe with the International Response Team. 

They were all incredibly kind, asking about her family and her work, listening with interest as she recounted growing up on a farm and her days spent teaching kindergarten. Despite their apparent interest, Maggie couldn’t help but feel a little… silly. Stories of field trips and finger painting felt incredibly juvenile in comparison to the lived experiences of this remarkable team of people. 

She did her best to steer the conversation back to the team whenever possible, which in some ways made the whole thing worse. But she managed to keep a smile for the evening, and she lost track of how many drinks made their way down the hatch. Luke ordered an assortment of snack foods for the group, and she gratefully accepted a few fries and a mozzarella stick to soak up some of the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. At some point Spencer returned from the bar with an extra glass of water, sliding it her way with a knowing smile and a press of his lips to her cheek. 

Eventually, Maggie had to excuse herself to the bathroom, patting Spencer’s arm and carefully navigating the dim bar. In the way that it so often did, the level of her intoxication made itself abundantly clear in the harsh lighting of the restroom. She stumbled out of the stall to wash her hands, using the countertop for balance and cursing under her breath. 

She raised her head to analyze her appearance, groaning a little at the smudge of mascara under her eyes. As she swiped at the black rings, she considered that she had never quite figured out the ideal amount of alcohol— somehow always managing to get a little too drunk. And now she was too drunk in front of all of Spencer’s friends— his family. 

Not only that, but for the second time today, she couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmingly ordinary. Surrounded by the team, all extraordinary and awe-inspiring in their own right, she was… plain, unaccomplished, boring. Spencer had called her remarkable; she felt anything but. 

She closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill over, remembering the last time she’d cried in a bar bathroom. She’d spent that evening wondering what was wrong with her… wondering if she deserved to have someone like Spencer at all. 

“That’s just… the alcohol talking,” she reminded herself out loud into the empty bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. “Stop bein’ a weirdo.”

She pushed out of the bathroom and back into the bar, walking a little more cautiously as the alcohol started to course through her bloodstream. As she approached the group again, Spencer’s eyes found her immediately, and he reached for her, pulling her underneath his arm and into his side. He brought his mouth close to her ear and murmured, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just—” She slid her hand around his waist to keep herself steady. “Just more tipsy than I thought.”

He ran a soothing hand along her arm. “Do you wanna go home?”

She shook her head. “No, no— ‘M fine. ‘S nice to be with your friends.”

“You’re sure?” He squeezed her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Because honestly I’m kind of ready to go.”

She looked up from where her head was resting on his chest to see him smiling softly at her. “Whatever you want.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then turned back to the team and cleared his throat. “We’re gonna head out.”

Tara made a show of checking her watch. “10:45? I’m surprised you stayed this long, old man.”

…

Maggie’s eyes opened slowly and came into focus as Spencer’s car came to a stop outside her apartment. “Why’re we here?” 

Spencer shut off the ignition and pulled out the key with a small smile. “I have a feeling you’re going to feel… less than stellar tomorrow. I thought you might like to wake up in your own bed. Hang on.”

He climbed out of the vehicle and closed the door before coming around to her side. She could feel the tears welling up as she fumbled with the buckle on her seatbelt. Everything was a little uncoordinated, and she felt absolutely ridiculous. 

The door opened, and she carefully swung her legs out one at a time. Spencer stood slightly to the side, and she knew she should hurry up and let him get home, but she didn’t move to get up. 

“Do you need help?” 

She shook her head, and the action sent a tear rolling over her bottom lash line. She tried to swipe it away, but of course Spencer caught it.

“Hey— what’s wrong?” he asked gently. 

She sniffed. “Are you just dropping me off?”

He cupped a hand underneath her chin to tilt her eyes upward, and his eyes were soft but concerned. “I was planning to come upstairs with you. Unless you don’t want me to.”

She shook her head. “No, I— you can come upstairs.”

“Okay.” Spencer cocked his head. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Maggie didn’t know where to begin. She was drowning in self-doubt— had been since about the one month mark. It seemed that every day there was something new to feel insecure about. The confidence she’d had on his doorstep in February was nowhere to be found. 

That was too much for her slow moving brain to articulate at the moment, so she settled on: “They’re all so smart and funny and cool and interesting.”

“Okay…” he prompted. 

“And I’m not,” she admitted. 

His mouth turned quickly down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I’m just— a kindergarten teacher and I— I don’t have any cool skills or stories, and I don’t even have any muscles, and they’re all so pretty—”

“Hey, stop— stop.” Spencer squatted down to be eye-level with her. “First of all, you’re not ‘just’ anything. And you’re my favorite kindergarten teacher and the best one I know.” He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. “You have lots of cool skills and stories. And I don’t have any muscles either.”

She lifted her free hand to squeeze his bicep. “Yes, you do.”

“Muscles are overrated.” He smiled and brought a hand to her face, smoothing her hair back and then letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “And frankly, pretty is too mundane a term to describe you. I’d go with something like radiant, or ethereal, or incandescent.”

“You have to s‘plain your jokes to me,” she slurred, swiping her forearm under her nose. 

“Not always. And besides, I have to explain my jokes to basically everyone,” he reminded her. He squeezed her hand. “But unlike everyone else, you let me explain them to you. And you actually listen to the explanation.” He shrugged. “I think I like that more than I like telling the joke.”

She was quiet then, eyes focused on a particularly interesting piece of loose gravel. She knew the list of her flaws was longer, but her brain couldn’t string them together in her current state. 

Spencer shuffled closer and waited patiently until she finally looked at him before continuing. 

“I love you. And not because of your job, or your cool stories, or your muscles,” he clarified. “I love you because you’re you. And, a little selfishly, because I love the person that I am when I’m with you. Okay?”

He smiled tentatively, and she let out a long breath. “Okay.”

He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Now, come on. Let’s get inside.”

Spencer helped her navigate up the walkway and the three flights of stairs. Rather than rummage drunkenly through her purse, she passed it off and allowed him to retrieve her keys and unlock the door. 

He supervised and provided balance support as she haphazardly swiped a makeup wipe over her face and fumbled into her pajamas. Finally he got her settled into bed with a bottle of water on the bedside table. 

He pulled up the covers around her. “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he murmured. 

This was the moment that he’d realize what an absolute fool she was. He’d finally be alone in the bathroom, and it would become abundantly clear that she couldn’t drink responsibly, that she was obnoxious, that she actually was boring. She was sure of it, and her heart was fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces. 

Spencer’s nervous laugh broke through her haze of insecurity. “Whoa, I thought we were done crying?” he joked. “Honey, c’mere.” Spencer pulled her up into his arms, rubbing a hand over her back. 

She hadn’t realized she was making any noise until the sound vibrated against where Spencer had tucked her into his shoulder. As if she hadn’t been foolish enough tonight, now she was blubbering into his nice cardigan. Despite herself, she clung to him like he’d disappear like smoke between her fingers. 

“I’m— I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed; it’s not funny,” he apologized. “Shhh, sweetheart. It— it’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Her voice was full of tears and cracked pathetically at the end. 

“Okay, okay,” he agreed, a tinge of confusion in his voice. “I’m— the bathroom can wait, I suppose.”

That only made her cry harder, which poor Spencer responded to with even more aggressive soothing. He stroked over her hair and hugged her tight, shushing her and rocking her a little bit back and forth. 

He was just so sweet. Kind and thoughtful and considerate— three things she hadn’t experienced from a significant other in a very long time. And it was exhausting waiting for the shift— for the moment that he realized she wasn’t worth the hassle. She was so tired of anticipating the end. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” She hated how ridiculous she sounded, gasping and hiccuping. 

Spencer froze for a full second and then squeezed her impossibly tighter. “I’m not. Baby, I’m not. I am right here.” He stroked a firm hand up and down her spine. “I need you to take some deep breaths with me. I’m gonna do it, too, okay?” 

He led her in a series of deep inhalations and long exhales to the rhythm of his palm on her back. He murmured quietly to her, reassurances and promises and love. As her breathing came closer to normal, he pressed a soft kiss into her hair.  

“I love you, Maggie. You know that, right? I wouldn’t change one single thing about you.” His hand on her back slowed to a stop, and she could practically hear him considering his next move. “I’m pretty sure Billy Joel wrote a song about it, actually. I love you just the way you are.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up in her throat at the tone deaf melody, and she felt him smile against her hair. “Okay?”

She wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t his fault. She sighed and sniffed. “Okay, off brand Billy Joel.”

“That’s not very nice,” he chuckled, pulling back to swipe his fingers over her damp cheeks. 

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I love off brand. Just as good ‘s the real thing, and with some fun quirks.”

“Somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.” He smiled softly at her, and then his expression melted into something a little more serious. “But I mean it. There is no place I’d rather be, and no one else that I wanna be with. When I say that I love you the most, I mean that I love you more than I have ever loved anybody. Ever.”

He looked at her so earnestly that she wanted to cry all over again. How was he so wonderful, and gentle, and loving, and perfect? He’d promised to do better on a chilly night in January and then spent every single day since then doing exactly that. 

“But I actually do have to pee,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you going to be okay here for a few minutes?”

He was speaking to her as he would a child, and she was utterly mortified. She waved her hand. “God, I’m bein’ so annoying.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a little drunk. And a lot adorable.” He tapped gently on her nose. “But you’re also kind of sad, and I don’t want you to be sad.” He propped the pillow up behind her. “It’ll be the fastest pee ever— four minutes, tops. Most of it will be hand washing. Okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled, and she really meant it. 

He hopped up and trotted to the bedroom door. “See you in four minutes. Have some water while you wait.”

She followed instructions, sipping carefully from the bottle he’d left for her. She also rummaged through the bedside drawer for the advil, popping two and washing them down with another swig of water. 

Spencer returned to the bedroom with his cardigan and pants already discarded. He quickly slipped out of his button up and into his pajamas before sliding in beside her and holding out his arms. “All right, c’mere.”

“Hmm?” she hummed. 

“I’m demanding snuggles,” he clarified. “That’s the price you pay for my chauffeur and caretaker services.” 

Another smile slowly turned up the corners of her mouth, and he returned it, pulling her against his side. “There she is.”

She allowed herself to settle and melt into his warmth, the soft fabric of his t-shirt under her cheek and his fingers brushing lightly over her arm. She willed herself to stop waiting for the shift. She begged herself to stop looking for the end. 

Maybe this time there wouldn’t be an end. Maybe she could have an infinite middle with Spencer Reid. Maybe she had earned that. 

———

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[actuallyadhd]

Hopefully supportive reply to the askers who need support

I have social anxiety so hum I didn’t want to reblog with advice is it okay to submit advice instead? Unless my advice is bad then please delete or something if you hum want.

“Anonymous’s Submission:

My bosses are getting on my case about my speed at work, and between my ADHD, medication that’s making me overheat, and various small physical ailments, I can’t actually meet the pace they want me to (I tried, and it made me sick). I’m in the process of looking for a new job, but I’m sorely tempted to quit this one even before I get another, better job, bc the stress is just awful. I don’t know how to make it clear to my bosses that I’m not as abled as I look :( ”

I am so sorry you are going through that. You are [not] defective for having small physical ailments and not being able to go super fast. You are doing the best you can and you are doing a good job! I am sorry your bosses cannot see that. If you decide to keep your job while looking for your other one, I recommend since it’s super stressful being belittled all the time do some things to soothe yourself maybe while your on break or at home. Maybe listen to your favourite songs, take bubble bathes and perhaps if you are not afraid of touch you could ask a friend or a social tie to message you or you could hug yourself and pat yourself on the back and say you did a good job today. You could also write yourself a letter or a small note to yourself everyday saying you did the best you can and maybe say some nice things to yourself to counter what your bosses are saying that you are doing the best you can to yourself. Unless you find talking to yourself or writing to yourself and hugging yourself is not for you. I do thin you deserve lots of self-care during this stressful job finding and still job doing while you are on the job. This belittling that you do not deserve because you are awesome, will pass or the stress of the new job and transition will pass. Until then when you are on break you deserve lots of pleasant comfy things or something. While we cannot always change people’s unappreciation of us or life’s daily stresses or some of them, that doesn’t mean we cannot appreciate ourselves or something.

“Anonymous’s Submission:

every time my being on medicine comes up in conversation, my mom ignores whatever the topic was and jumps to “do you really NEED all that stuff…? why don’t you stop taking it? i don’t think you really need it. what’s it doing for you anyways?” all i can do is avoid bringing it up- every little complaint about side affects/prices/different generics turns into her pressuring me to stop altogether.”

I am sorry your mom’s invalidating you. Perhaps you could send your mother links on the pills you are taking and how it benefits you and you could tell her while some people don’t need their pills, it helps you function. Does your mother have any developmental or mental disabilities? You could tell her that just because she doesn’t need pills to help her function doesn’t mean it’s not valid that you take your pills to function. Sending people links to things does not always seem to work for me. You could also tell her that you are glad she cares so much for you in your own way but you can make your own decisions and you know what’s best for you and that while she’s great at caring she’s not a doctor. Unless she is a doctor then you could tell her gently that she is not a physctirst and while she has- Where was I going with this? If you cannot change her mind at all, which is unfortunate, some of our loved ones can be stubborn- Perhaps you could take a deep breathe, maybe do some self-care activities before visiting her, maybe play your fav music in the background while she complains to you about you having to take your pills- not in your ears. I have done that once and my Uncle got mad at me- Or perhaps some comfy object or something squishy to squeeze or something- still interact with her, unless you don’t want to but you could use pleasant music and squeezing something to maybe make the conversations less unpleasant? Maybe? I am sorry if this isn’t good advice. Unfortunately my dad often belittles me for singing, laughing, being hyperactive and I cannot change him he’s very stubborn not that some people cannot change but unfortunately when my relatives or some of my relatives belittle me for my disabilities which is- though I guess it’s not quite the same since she’s belittling you for needing to take your meds? Where was.I going with this? You don’t deserve this unpleasantness of course but sometimes relatives will just stay being relatives or they won’t change so we have to cope with self-care and deep breathing and- I lost my train of thought sorry.

“adventureswithgracetopher’s Submission:

I need to get on my meds again, but I misplaced the card with my doctor’s number on it. I need to clean my room so I can find the card, but it’s hard to concentrate on cleaning without my meds.”

Would you be able to take the bus to the doctor’s office to get the phone number? I once tried to make an appointment or argued that my friend when we were at the doctor’s office when I was there with her for some reason, I don’t remember why, anyway I argued that she should be able to make the appointment right there and not have to call. But they disagreed with me. Would it be weird to go visit a drop in doctor’s office? Though would a new doctor you are only going to see once give you a prescription? And if you went to your regular doctor’s office by taking a bus or car would they give you the number or maybe an patient there? I think the reception might give it to you maybe.

If you cannot do all that are any friends or social ties or neighbours have any free time to help you clean your room and you could take them out for lunch, unless they want to do it for free and then maybe you will find it after hopefully one of those contacts could help you clean your room if they do. Sorry if this advice is bad.

“Anonymous’s Submission:

I feel like I’m losing interest in my relationship and it’s scaring me because I’m inlove but it’s slipping…”

Well there are always ways to fall in interest with someone again, don’t worry if you want to stay in the relationship there’s ways to fall in interest or in love with someone again. You could do new things together or maybe- maybe this is bad advice- I am sorry. I think I was trying to say is the relationship won’t nessarily end if you don’t want it too if you are losing interest, you still care about each other. Feelings can be intense sometimes and less intense other times, they won’t go away forever. You could do new things with friends if you want or- This might be bad advice. Sorry I lost track of what I was trying to say. The disinterest could pass though and increase again

“Anonymous’s Submission:

Only recently finding out all the symptoms to my Inattentive ADHD. I always thought certain things I did were just that. Things I did. Now, as an Adult, am I actually seeing these things for what they are. It’s surreal, but it brings certain things in perspective. It’s… freeing, in its own way, even if it scares me and makes me question certain things about myself. I’m glad I’m finally learning after 17~ years of only know it as the ‘I can’t pay attention’ illness.”

Knowledge about ourselves can be liberating, like when I learn more about my own adhd and things click in my head and know it’s not my fault my brain is wired that way and we are okay the way we are. I am glad you got this knowledge. What does it make you question about yourself? You don’t have to answer at all sorry for asking. It’s okay to not like having adhd sometimes. I have combined ADHD, and it can be difficult be inattentive and not finishing all my projects and hobbies and also start daydreaming when people are talking to me and then I feel bad. Hum what was I getting at? I think that it’s okay to doubt yourself or have questions or something.

notmyrealblogdonotfollow’s Submission:

I’ve had three meltdowns (bad ones, hyperventilating etc) in the last 24 hours!! There was a clear reason why the first one happened, but I’ve never had multiple in a row for the same problem??? Like I woke up this morning and almost immediately started hyperventilating, and that’s NEVER happened to me before. It’s so draining. I’m feeling better about the original problem now but I just don’t understand why this happened. I’ve had more upsetting problems, with more underlying stress, and only ever had one meltdown and then been ok the next day.“

Sometimes small things can seem really big in our brains and maybe our thoughts can blow things out of proportion. I have felt overwhelmed without realizing it. That can be draining I am so sorry that you had to go through that. It’s okay to be overwhelmed by something small, any kind of stress no matter how small, the ways it affects us is valid even if our reaction is really large. It’s okay. You deserve lots of comfy things and I hope those small upsetting things happen less. Your feelings are valid. It’s okay to have meltdowns multiple times though that stuff, or feeling overwhelmed can be scary. Sometimes even the littlest things can be overstimulating that’s okay, you aren’t week or anything.

I am sorry if any of this advice was bad or supportive comments. This got long sorry.

[youandidontbelieveyou]

So I was going to add this story to another post but it was off topic enough it didn't feel right to add to someone else's story. But I still feel like it's important for my own mental health to share so I'm making it it's own post.

So one night after the rush at my restaurant, I was looking out the window at the street and saw a man and a woman arguing. It seemed like it was getting really heated, considering I saw the woman grab hold of one of our tree's branches and swing from it until it broke off and she started beating the man with it. He ran off a little ways and the woman came inside and asked to use our phone.

Now my boss has made it very clear to me not to allow patrons to use our phone, but considering what I had just seen outside (and it wasn't a safe area so I didn't want to just hand over my cellphone in case the whole show was a scam) I handed over our cordless phone and she struggled to remember her mom's phone number, before finally making the call. Once she was done talking to her mom, I brought her some water and through her tears she told me her story.

The gentleman with whom I had seen the heated argument with was, in fact, her boyfriend. She was a girl who grew up in California. I can't quite remember where, but I know she told me. She had met this guy at the bar she was working at and they hit it off right away. They were inseparable and madly in love. When her beloved was offered a better job with better pay in St. Louis, she dropped everything to move out here with him.

Here in St. Louis, she started to realize the one she thought she loved, wasn't really her night in shining armor. In fact, he wasn't even a man. Just some sick scum bag who now had her in a place where she has no friends and no one to turn to. And now she's going to frequently doctors visits because she "peed on a stick and it came up positive." He insists that the baby isn't his, despite her not knowing anyone but him for 6 months. He also keeps insisting that she gets rid of the baby, but from what she told me, the baby is already in it's second trimester. Which, if I remember correctly from health class, is too far along for the baby to abort.

I offered to by her some appetizers, or at least some coffee, before the boyfriend came into the restaurant steaming, and her still sobbing. She still had the phone in her hand, at least until he tore it from her and threw it across the restaurant. Immediately the bartenders ran to get the boss, who's a pretty big and intimidating guy, and the chef, who is bigger and more intimidating. And the guy sees them and walks out the door. Telling the girl to come with him, but she refused leaving him walking alone, saying he was going to get the car.

Everyone in the restaurant started relaxing, but I wanted to help. I asked her was SHE wanted to do, did she want the baby? She said of course she did. Previous doctors had told her she would never be able to carry a child, but here she is. With one inside of her. She told me sometimes she fantasized about just running away from her scumbag and having the baby on her own. Never seeing him again. But she knew she never could because he won't even let her work and earn her own money.

At the time I was only 19 years old. I had a recent broken engagement and didn't yet have a full understanding of the world. But, I was always described as an old soul. I knew things and had seen things that no one my age should know or have seen. I told her my apartment was dirty, but I had a pretty comfy couch and I could help her get a job. I also had a car that could help her get to her doctors visits, and food in my refrigerator. She stopped crying long enough to give me a tight and super long hug, which was interrupted abrupt by her sperm donor.

He was, calmly this time, telling her that he brought the car and it was time to go home. He looked at me, standing between them, and told me it was her 27th birthday and she was drunk, which I already knew. He said he needed to take her home and help take care of her and the baby. The baby that not an hour ago he was shouting at her they needed "to get rid of." I told him, in the calmest and least shaken voice I could muster, "I cannot let her leave with you. You are too drunk and heated and I cannot trust that she could get home safely with you behind the wheel. If after some time and clear thoughts, she still for some reason wants to go home with you, I'll make sure she makes it there okay." And he started grunting and getting heated again, and started trying to go around me to get to the young mother. No one else at the bar seemed to notice. But I was not going to let him get to her. Finally he stormed out and shouted at her "you better find a way home tonight, cause I'm not coming back for you" just before stomping to his car and driving away.

The young woman still refused my food offers. She started panicking thinking "how am I going to get home tonight? Where am I going to go? I don't know anyone! I don't have anyone!" I asked her if there was any way for her parents to send her money and the only response she could mutter was no. I also reminded her that I still had an empty couch and could help her get back on her feet, but the baby daddy got his wish. She had become 100% relied on him. I told her if she wanted I would let her sit at the table next to me until my shift was over then I'd drive her home, but she insisted she went home at that very instant. So I called her an uber so I could watch her journey home and make sure she got there okay. I also have her my phone number and told her to call me as soon as she got home, because douche nozzle had her phone.

As I watched her uber journey, I noticed something that made me freak out. She wasn't even a quarter of the way to her destination, when the ride had cancelled. I called the driver, but by the time he answered on my 6th call, he told me she was already gone and had gotten into a different car. My heart sank and I was relieved from my job, when I just sat in the back room and cried. I never got her phone call. I never got the numbers of her relatives who she was calling because our work phones don't show outgoing calls. But worst of all, and my biggest regret, I never got her name.

A year and a half later, I still check the news in the town I sent her to. Every day I look to see if she was declared missing, or even found dead somewhere. And as relieved as I always am not to see her picture, I'm more worried that she is missing, but her fucker doesn't care enough to go looking.

[surveyjunkie]

0120

1. Have you had an argument with anyone recently? If so, do you still have issues with that person?

I got into a very bad argument with my stepdad yesterday that resulted in me deciding to move out. I’ve always had issues with him and always will. 

2. Are you talking to anyone while filling this in? How about texting / chatting on Facebook?

Nope. I’m just doing my own thing.

3. Have you done something recently that helped someone else, in any way?

Well, yeah. My job is to help my boss with all of her paperwork and projects so there’s that. And then I gave my boyfriend rides this weekend because his car is still in the shop. 

4. What kind of mood are you in atm? Is someone else responsible for that mood?

I’m in kind of a downer mood. My mom and stepdad are both equally responsible. 

5. Has someone of the opposite sex been getting on your nerves lately?

Yep, my stepdad. And getting on my nerves is putting it lightly. 

6. Who was the last person that asked to hang out with you? Tell me the story of how you met that person, everything you remember.

My friend Katy. We met at a bar in Covington over a year ago and have been hanging out ever since. 

7. If you knew that one of your friends was considering suicide, what would you say to them?

I have been in that situation with a friend. I made sure to listen to him and hear him out and just basically let him know I cared. I also talked with him about my personal experiences with feeling suicidal and depressed. Eventually, I told his best friend about it because it was getting scary, he seems to be doing much better now. 

8. Have you ever felt so depressed that you were struggling to carry on? If so, what would you say to someone else who was in that situation?

I feel that way a lot. I’d tell them that many people, including me, have felt that way at some point to let them know they’re not alone. I’d also tell them it’s okay to take a break and just do nothing and let your brain and heart heal when they’re feeling overwhelmed. One thing I’ll never forget it is how my mom would aggressively force me to get up and do stuff when I was severely depressed and it actually made me feel x100 worse. I’d let the person know that it’s okay to sleep in and watch TV if that’s the only thing making them feel better at the moment. Sometimes we just need a minute to become productive again. 

9. Have you ever worn coloured mascara? If not, would you ever think about trying it? And if you have, what is / was your favourite colour to wear?

No. I just like to wear black mascara.

10. What do you remember about your first day of secondary school? Were you more nervous or excited about it?

I was really excited to start high school. Being with all the older kids, having homecomings and proms and football games, all of that really excited me for whatever reason. I'll never forget my first day walking into the halls with my red hair and people being like “woah, you’ve changed since middle school”. I also remember how much nicer and new the high school building was compared to the middle school building, so that was really cool. I loved being a freshman. 

11. Who was the last person to pay you a compliment?

Bosho wosho

12. Tell me about the shirt you’re wearing. Is it one of your favourites?

No...it’s just a beige and black striped shirt that I bought specifically for work. It is comfy though. 

13. Is there anything that’s happened in the past month, that you wish you could go back in time and change?

No

14. What color is your purse / wallet?

My purse is a light brown color, and my wallet is black and white with native print. 

15. What’s the closest item to you that’s black?

My computer

16. Do you think guys see your mother as a ‘yummy mummy’?

Ugh probably. 

17. Is there a certain name that you think seems to have become really popular, and you know lots of people with that same name?

Rachel and Katie are extremely popular names around here, and Kennedy is a popular baby girl’s name this year

18. What’s the most expensive item in your make-up bag?

I really don’t know, probably one of my lipsticks

19. Think about what you looked like 5 years ago. How did you look different, compared to the way you look now?

Well, 5 years ago I was a lot skinnier. I had my natural hair color, my nose was still pierced, and I always wore eyeliner. Now, I’m slightly fatter, my hair is maroon, my nose is no longer pierced, and I never wear make up. Ohhh adulthood. 

20. Who was the last person of the opposite sex to text you? Do you think that person is attracted to you?

Josh, and I hope so. 

21. Before Facebook became popular, did you use any other social networking site, like Bebo or Myspace?

I used MySpace. Funny how that was like the thing back in the day, and then it just literally died. <<

22. Has anyone ever asked you out, and you turned them down? If so, did you feel guilty about it? Why do you think you said no?

Yes, and I always felt really guilty about it because I hate getting rejected. I usually said no because I wasn’t attracted to them or they just weren’t my type. 

23. Name the last three people of the opposite sex that you talked to. What did you talk about?

My boyfriend...we talked about a jacket I was

24. Who is your most recent text message from? Has that person ever told you that they love you?

My boyfriend, and yes he has. 

25. Have you ever asked anyone “Do you love me?” If so, did you get the response you wanted? Do you think when someone says “I love you”, you feel obliged to say it back?

Sometimes I’ll ask my friends or my boyfriend, “How much do you love me?” as a joke to get them to do me a favor. When it comes to my boyfriend I don’t always feel obligated to say “I love you” back because I’m still in the phase where I feel awkward saying it in person. It’s really weird. I do truly love him a lot but it just feels weird to say that to somebody in person without feeling vulnerable. It’s just...a new thing for me.

26. I know it’s a depressing thought, but have you ever actually tried to imagine what the end of the world might be like?

I think we’re experiencing the first stages of it now. I know everybody jokes about it, but America is about to be destroyed from the inside out and we are the most powerful, (or maybe 2nd most powerful, I forget) nation in the world. 

27. Which Disney princess do you think is the most beautiful? Why?

I’ll go with Ariel because hair goals. 

28. Someone tells you that you’re wasting your time with the person you like. What do you say?

I’d ask them why they felt that way

29. Has anything happened in the last 7 days that you’d like to forget?

Yeah

30. Has someone of the opposite sex ever sang to you? If so, how did you respond to it?

Yes. It was sweet.

31. When did you last hug someone of the opposite sex?

Monday

32. Have you ever seen the film “Casablanca”? Did you like it?

I think I’ve seen bits of it. 

33. If you’ve had a bad experience in a past relationship, did you find that you were scared to get into another relationship, in case the same thing happened again?

Yep. I still get scared about it from time to time. I know that Josh is so different from all the other guys I’ve dated in the past but it’s still a fear I have just because of experience. 

34. Are you friends with the last person you hugged, or something more?

She’s my mother

35. Do you ever post song lyrics as your Facebook status?

Every now and then. I used to do it a lot but then kind of stopped because people would be like “what’s your status about” or “are you okay???” not realizing it was a song lyric I posted. 

36. How many girls do you know with the name ‘Georgina?’

Lol none

38. Do you drink alcohol on a regular basis, or do you prefer to save it for special occasions?

I drink a glass of wine every other day

39. Do you have a relative whose name begins with ‘L’? Tell me about him / her.

Oh god, Laura. She’s my aunt on my dad’s side. I won’t go into too much detail, but she’s basically been shunned from the rest of the family ever since my grandma died. It has to do with inheritance and all that and it’s just a very ugly and sad situation. 

40. Did you play with Barbies when you were a kid, or did you prefer something else?

I was obsessed with Barbies. I’m sure there were tons of other toys I played with as a child, but Barbies are the ones that stand out the most. 

41. Are you a secretive person?

I keep to myself a lot in “real” life, but online I share a lot.<<

42. When did you last eat?

A couple hours ago.

43. If you were going to buy a present for the person you love / like, what would you generally choose?

He needs a proper winter hat, so I would get him that. 

44. Do you plan on kissing the last person you kissed, again?

Yes

45. If I’m going to buy you a box of chocolates, which kind should I definitely NOT get?

Please no dark chocolate 

46. If you met the celebrity that you most admire, what would be the first thing you’d say to him/her?

Oh man. I’d be such a nervous wreck I probably couldn’t come up with something coherent. <<

47. Has anyone ever told you that you are special? If so, do you think that person meant it?

Yes, but I don’t think they meant it. Besides my family history, there’s nothing really special about me. 

48. Is there something you generally always ask for help with?

I can’t think of one particular thing. I guess carrying heavy stuff. 

49. If you had to give up your phone or your computer, which would it be?

My phone. I spend all my time on my laptop.<<

50. Has anyone called you gorgeous / beautiful today?

Nope