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reiderwriter · 10 months

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Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏

Chapter 1 of That's What You Get

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨

Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.

You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.

“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.

“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.

“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”

“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”

“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”

“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.

“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.

The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.

“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.

“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.

“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.

“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.

You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.

“Mom, hey, what’s up?”

“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.

“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”

“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.

“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.

“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”

“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.

“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”

You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.

“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”

“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.

“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”

“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”

“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”

“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”

“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.

Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.

“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.

“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.

“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.

“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”

“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”

“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

–x–

Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.

“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.

“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.

“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”

“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.

“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”

“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.

“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”

“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.

“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”

You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.

So because it was him, you decided to talk.

“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.

“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued

“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.

“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”

“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.

“How come?”

“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.

“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”

“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”

“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”

“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”

“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”

“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.

“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.

“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.

“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”

“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”

“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”

“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”

“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”

With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.

–X–

The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.

Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.

That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.

Fuck.

There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.

There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.

Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.

“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”

That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.

“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.

“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.

Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.

“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.

“Y/N I think we got married last night.”

For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.

“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.

Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.

Your husband.

You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.

“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.

“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.

“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.

“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.

But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.

“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.

“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.

“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”

“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.

“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”

He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”

Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.

“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.

“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”

“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.

🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake

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exeggcute · 5 months

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well it's been almost six months which I think is long enough to break my posting embargo, so, uh: guess what! I got liposuction lol. specifically hip/thigh lipo to quell some pretty wicked dysphoria that stemmed from having such a feminine silhouette… and I have to say I'm really, really pleased with the results.

tbh my initial plan was to keep things under wraps for good which is why I haven't said anything about it yet (and even as I'm typing this up I keep debating whether to post it or trash it)—partly because I was/am worried people might Act Weird about it and partly because I get a little embarrassed talking about bodygendershit in general. but here we are. one reason I do feel compelled to finally share, other than being super happy about how everything went, is that I haven't encountered a lot of discussions about body sculpting as a possible avenue of gender-affirming care (although, to be fair, maybe I just haven't been looking in the right places) and I figured at least one person out there would be interested to learn about what I did and where I've ended up so far.

anyway. pics/details under the cut—nothing even remotely risqué (or yucky), I just know that body image stuff is fraught + not everyone is eager to hear surgery talk.

to be precise: I got tumescent liposuction of the inner and outer thigh, plus this ultrasound thing to help the skin shrink. a different surgeon who I consulted (but ultimately did not go with for a number of reasons) said that even if I got the results I wanted from lipo, which he claimed was unlikely, the affected skin would look loose/baggy/weird forever... and that surgeon was wrong on both counts lol. my elasticity was great bitch!!!!

they didn't take out that much fat overall, only eight pounds or so, but it's way more about the Where than the How Much. my actual surgeon (who kicks ass btw) said lipo isn't that great for weight loss per se, and what it's really good for is sculpting targeted areas—so basically exactly what I did. six months post-op I actually weigh about the same as what I did pre-op, but the distribution has held steady; more weight goes to my stomach now and less, proportionally, goes to my hips since there are fewer fat cells in that area now. so my silhouette retains its new shape!

the overall change is admittedly on the subtle side, since I'm pretty short and have wide hip bones (and you can't change your literal skeleton) but it's still gone a looooooong way. the main thing I requested from my surgeon was "I want to fit in men's pants" and boy did he deliver.

also a good place to note that if you're in the las vegas area looking for a plastic and/or cosmetic surgeon—this guy is board-certified in both btw—then I absolutely have the guy for you. feel free to DM me for details. lipo is clearly his specialty (and it shows!) but he also does a lot of breast revisions/mastopexy (i.e., fixing implants that other surgeons did a bad job putting in), regular implants, and face work (particularly facial feminization surgery). one thing that sold me on this guy was an enthusiastic yelp review from a local stripper who said he hid the incisions for her breast lift in her armpits so none of her clients would notice that she'd had work done... a true master of his craft

okay you've scrolled enough so I'll give you what you're here for lol. I don't have many pre-op pics because I was obviously unhappy with how I looked and was not taking full-body selfies on a regular basis, but here's a few I took ~2 weeks beforehand:

these super thin men's joggers were my go-to dysphoria pants, to the point where I bought five pairs in different colors, but now they're so baggy on me that they have the opposite effect and make it look like I have wider hips than I do. so I retired them from my wardrobe...

...except not immediately because I had to wear compression garments 24/7 for the first three months post-op and these joggers were just loose enough to comfortably wear a medical girdle underneath them at all times, 110° degree temperatures be damned. (not that I was going out much for the first month since I was soooooooooooo fucking bruised and sore lol.) here's a few post-op pics in the same style pants:

(first pic is less than 24 hours post-op, about to go to my follow-up appointment, looking greasy as fuck because I wasn't allowed to shower yet; second pic two days post-op and also post-shower, thankfully; third pic is about a month post-op.)

so, like, CLEAR improvement already. I will not be posting pictures of my black-and-blue-and-swollen-all-over legs but considering how puffy I was from getting internally pummeled with a cannula it's wild that I still saw improvement literally as soon as I came home.

recovery was obviously not a blast in the moment but I got off easy, all things considered. I was supposed to get drains put in and was Not looking forward to that at all lol. the first thing I asked when I woke up after surgery was "how many drains?" because they weren't sure if I'd end up needing two or four, but it turned out the answer was zero. no drains!!!

I did have to lie with my feet elevated for the first two weeks straight, and had major bruising that receded over the first month (you could barely see my regular skin underneath all the mottled spots), but little to no nerve pain, no weird complications, and I was more or less back to normal after six weeks. also noelle took very very good care of me and was brave about injecting me with blood thinners so I wouldn't get clots and die :)

when I went into it I was fully expecting to get huge vertical scars up and down the sides of my legs (and had made peace with it!) but instead I wound up with four tiny incisions like this, each less than two inches long:

what's totally crazy is that the scars are basically Gone now. like even when I'm trying to find them I struggle to locate the ones in the front. I joked to noelle that if someone did an autopsy on me they might not figure out that I'd had cosmetic surgery, especially since the skin on my thighs is back to its normal color and texture. (in this scenario I like to imagine that it's dana scully giving me the autopsy and I'm in an x-files plot where instead of regular lipo I got alien lipo and mulder figures it out purely by accident.)

with lipo it can take up to a year to see the full results but I already feel so much fucking better in my body that seeing old pre-op pics throws me for a loop. and I can absolutely wear men's pants now—pants for short and stocky men, to be fair, but actual regular men's pants and not exclusively Pants For Men With Huge Butts And Legs. which is the only style I could even hope to fit in before. and even then it was a stretch.

big pic dump of shitty mirror selfies taken over the last few months:

(also I really debated sharing this one but I already included it in the yelp review I left my surgeon so fuck it: here's a tasteful before-and-after in my undies where you can see my bare legs for easier comparison. left pic is one week pre-op, right pic is about five months post-op. including it as a link instead of embedding it in the post in case your boss happens to be reading over your shoulder at this very moment. also this is the one and only time you will ever see me stripped down on tumblr dot com so don't get used to it lol.)

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annathesillyfriend · 11 months

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Hey there! I hope summer is treating you well 🌞I am currently crying over the fact that I didnt get to see Lizzo at a festival 30 km away from me last week and that I won't see Harry tomorrow in Warsaw, so I decided to distract myself with making this list 😅 I hope that next time I'll be able to tell you that I menaged to get Taylor tickets, so please keep your fingers crossed for me 🥰

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

Also, please, mind the writers’ warnings!

🌊JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN🌊

it's what you make it and and honey, i'll make it all okay by @seresinhangmanjake

↳ two-shot, part of oh, baby universe which is an amazing dad!jake series and you should totally give it a try

you're safe now and bite me by @seresinsweetie

↳ two-shot, 18+, enemies to friends to lovers, i want a weighted blanket for my birthday this year and by weighted blanket i mean jake seresin on top of me, please and thank you

crossing all the lines by @//seresinsweetie

↳ one-shot, 18+, not it's time for a rooster x hangman x reader threesome and it's as hot as it sounds 🥵

hungman by @ddejavvu

↳ one-shot, 18+, roommate!camboy!jake, do i have to say more? whenever i see Daisy's url on my dash, i drop everything i'm doing and go read, such a talented writer!

a love you don't find everyday by @//beccaanne814

↳ series, this story has kept me on my toes and then surprised me in the best way possible, amazing fic 💕

head on your chest, heart in your hands by @jupitercomet

↳ one-shot, soft!jake has a special place in my heart

same 'ol situation by @topguncortez

↳ one-shot, 18+, roommate!jake and it's so good!!

🌊BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW🌊

how could i forget by @roosterforme

↳ one-shot, I put this particular fic here because it was the first one I read in June but I recommend going through Emily's whole masterlist. I could go on and on about how talented she is 👏I start every single one of my days by reading one of her works. Like literally every day. Thank you for making my morning more bearable 💕

give me your hand and here is my heart by @sometimesanalice

↳ two-shot, 18+, this is a part of a bigger universe that I love with my whole being. please, do yourself a favour and go read it all!

hey, salior by @//sometimesanalice

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am YELLING

warm blood by @notroosterbradshaw

↳ one-shot, another phenomenal fic from another phenomenal author 👏👏 keep slaying!

home and viva la vegas by @honeysimagines

↳ two-shot, i read this like four times in the last month, my love for those fics is out of control

i'll guide you by @bradshawsbitch

↳ one-shot, 18+, i get dizzy and warm all over just by thinkign about this fic 👀

you left your name on my lips by @blurredcolour

↳ one-shot, beautiful fic!

love and loss by @bradshawsbaby

↳ one-shot, what a stunning piece. we all need this kind of support in our lives

if i knew it all then, would i do it again? by @ofstoriesandstardust

↳ one-shot, part of the same mistakes-verse which is a god tier series. this one left me speechless

i was supposed to sweat you out by @theharddeck

↳ one-shot, 18+, friends with benefits, simply delicious 👏👏

i think i love you by @thewulf

↳ one-shot, best friends to lovers, i loved this so very much

where do we go? by @thatlovinfeelin

↳ series, 18+, amazing fic, beautiful story!

salt air, and the rust on your door by @daniellarussoo

↳ one-shot, just a sweet little husband!bradly fic 😌

to love and be loved by @callsigncherub

↳ one-shot, i seriously debated jumping into the sea after reading this one

all consuming by @inklore

↳ one-shot, 18+, Lauren's back at it again with a bloody banger

🌊JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO🌊

a little bit of fun and it's not rotten work (not if it's you) by @sushiwriterhere

↳ two-shot, 18+, javy x reader x jake fics, this is just great, i love everything about those stories

the double negative effect by @beyondthesefourwalls

↳ one-shot, there are not enough javy fics out there so i cherish every single one i find, especially ones as good as this one!

training accident by @//foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, another great javy story!

🌊ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD🌊

supernova by @laracrofted

↳ one-shot, 18+, bob x reader x pheonix threesome, a dream come true 😫

the worst date by @lovingperfectionsblog

↳ one-shot, love this one 💕

the wingman by @//roosterforme

↳ one-shot, 18+, okay we all aready know how much i adore Emily's work but i just had to put this one here cause bob needs all the love he can get!!

shut up and dance with me by @beccaanne814

↳ one-shot, man, the things i'd so for him to dance with me

sick day by @writingdumpster

↳ one-shot, bob's a little bit stuborn here but we're gonna let it slip just this once

girl in a coffee shop by @ohgodnotagainn

↳ one-shot, coffee shop!au, bob as a barista!!!! yes yes yes that all i need in life

🌊MICKEY ' FANBOY' GARCIA🌊

opposites attract by @foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, husband!mickey and he's just so 🥺🥺

🌊STEVE HARRINGTON🌊

all the time by @bookshelf-dust

↳ one-shot, friends to lovers and fake dating -> ✨cheff's kiss✨

cardigan by @supernovafics

↳ one-shot, professor!steve x professor!reader, angst with happy ending, great work 👏

car kisses by @iridescentprose

↳ one-shot, there is just something so kissable about steve driving a car. i would, too, risk my life to pour some love on that man

this fic by @spicysix

↳ one-shot, being stuck in an elevator may not be an ideal situation but it's whole other thing when steve harrington is there with you

steve-o by @bettysupremacy

↳ one-shot, i just adore this steve

midnight love by @loveshotzz

↳ one-shot, 18+, fuck boy!steve but we fall for him anyway

this fic by @lovebugism

↳ one-shot, 18+, SO DAMN BLOODY GOOD i can't even

this fic by @forever-rogue

↳ one-shot, broke my heart and put it right back together

bad for ussiness by @upsidedownwithsteve

↳ series, 18+, enemies to lovers is the superior trope and this fic is the perfect example, my favourite steve fic honestly

a good dream by @solarluvs

↳ one-shot, 18+, the fact that this will never happen to me in real life is just criminal

keep trying by @lilacletter

↳ one-shot, 18+, an obligatory baby making fic™, they just hit different

cool about it by @mysticmunson

↳ one-shot, if you feel like getting your heart broken, that's a fic for you :')

this love by @forevermoreharrington

↳ one-shot, 18+, a masterpiece really

🌊EDDIE MUNSON🌊

brain like a sieve by @munsster

↳ one-shot, AHHHHHHHHHH is all i have to say on this 😅

sunscreen and chlorine and blue raspberry syrup by @eiightysixbaby

↳ two-shot, 18+, lifeguard!eddie, perfect summer read, just like ice cream on a hot day 🙌

something like this by @taintedcigs

↳ one-shot, a good old truth or dare fic, just what we all love

love me tender by @oneforthemunny

↳ one-shot, 18+, janitor!eddie x teacher!reader, what a stunning piece of work that is 🥺

hot rod by @shamevillain

↳ one-shot, 18+, you will need a shower after reading this 🥵

🌊RHETT ABBOTT🌊

right where i want you by @//sushiwriterhere

↳ one-shot, 18+, sort of enemies to lovers, i am so normal about this 🙂

hell on heels (part 2) by @strawhbrrries

↳ two-shot, 18+, that bloody cowboy will send us all straight to hell

wildflower, widefire by @sebsxphia

↳ series, 18+, the perfect balance between sweet and sexy 😌😌

the ferris wheel by @lewmagoo

↳ one-shot, i just wanna share funnel cake with rhett abbott, is that too much to ask???

invisible string by @wkndwlff

↳ one-shot, 18+, BEAUTIFUL 😭😭

#anna's fic recs #fic recs #june 2023 fic recs #top gun fic recs #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reaer #stranger things fic recs #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader

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tiffanymmull · 7 months

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Tumblr! It's been 4 years!

Yesterday marked 10-weeks until the New Year, so I decided that I would to use this time to create some more consistency into my routine to shed a few pounds before the New Year. For accountability purposes, I thought returning back to the platform where I once shared all of my nutrition and training goals, would perhaps rekindle a spark with blogging that I once found so helpful during these times. I knew it had been a while since I last posted in the tumblr world, but I had no idea it had been 4.5 years! With that, I guess we should have a quick "catch up..." My last post was made in 2019 when I was coaching for F45 in Las Vegas. The year prior we moved from Aviano, Italy where I had coached CrossFit for three years, and currently, I coach for OrangeTheory in Destin, Florida where I have been for the last two years. This year marks 22 years that I have been in the fitness industry, so I guess if I'm summing up what can be expected from my corner of the tumblr world, any and all things relating to fitness and food. So...Creating more consistency.... Over the last several months I haven't really had any goals directing my nutritional/training choices. I have been at a fairly consistent weight for about eight weeks now since coming off of a twelve-week bulk prior, so basically that means, I haven't been too concerned with my caloric intake, and training has lacked any sort of structure. It's been nice going to the gym without a road map and just simply doing whatever I desired in the moment, but as someone that generally prefers a game plan, I am eager to get into a more consistent routine.

The photos below were taken throughout my 12-week bulk. A big focus was putting some thickness on my back.

Throughout the next 10-weeks I would like to focus on losing 10-pounds. A pound a week is doable, but it requires being diligent with macro tracking, and sufficient protein intake in order to prevent muscle loss. I will be updating throughout the weeks ahead to keep myself accountable. <3

#fitblr #fat loss #nutritionist #coach #personaltrainer #group fitness #weightlifting

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elvis1970s · 2 years

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youtube

Fairytale, a Pointer Sisters cover, was recorded by Elvis in early 1975 and featured as an album track on Today, released in May of that year. It would remain in the live set right up to the end.

This joyous version was captured in a good quality audience recording during Elvis' dinner show in Las Vegas on August 20th, 1975. He's in such great form that it's actually quite hard to believe that following the second show that night, the engagement would be abruptly cancelled (just three nights in) and Elvis would be flown back to Memphis and admitted to hospital.

United Press international (UPI) issued a syndicated report on the sudden cancellation;

"…'He just got very tired and fatigued and we thought it would be best if he cut his show here short this time rather than run into complications', said Dr Elias Ghanem, the singer's Las Vegas physician. 'We can't find much wrong with him. One of the liver enzymes is elevated and what he needs is rest'…"

Dr Ghanem (1939-2001) enjoyed an enviable lifestyle from his business activities and from billing a number of wealthy and undoubtedly generous Las Vegas entertainers for treatment of, amongst other things, ‘Vegas Throat’ – raspy soreness caused by a combination of the dry desert air and the air-conditioning (and passive smoking) within the hotels and casinos. He was also a proponent of the sleep diet; a regimen of weight loss that appeared to involve the patient being sedated for much of the time and consuming liquid nutrition during rare moments of consciousness. Elvis himself had availed himself of this regime on at least one occasion.

The Irish Times wrote an obituary for Dr Ghanem upon his death from renal cancer in 2001.

"…He was Elvis Presley's personal physician, as well as the doctor for Elvis's posthumous son-in-law Michael Jackson. Although his patient list also included Liberace, Bill Cosby, Ann-Margret, and Virginia Kelley (the mother of former President Bill Clinton), it was Ghanem's relationship with The King which first brought him under the spotlight of unwanted notoriety. When ABC's television programme 20-20 reported that he had supplied the drugs which essentially killed Presley, Dr Ghanem threatened to sue - but he never did…"

The article also noted that Ghanem had been the subject of an FBI investigation over billing, but never charged, and that Colonel Parker had a financial interest in Ghanem's clinic situated conveniently adjacent to the Las Vegas Hilton.

"…Ghanem expanded his practice to include a chain of clinics around Las Vegas, treating literally thousands of patients. He proposed innovative umbrella health-insurance schemes long before they came into vogue, and signed contracts with the Hotel and Casino Workers' Union, by far the largest group of workers in Nevada. The arrangement was obviously a profitable one for Ghanem, but union leader John Wilhelm, recalled that during a protracted six-year strike at the Frontier Casino, Ghanem treated every worker free of charge and delivered over a hundred babies for the striking workers…"

Following the cancellation, Elvis was flown back to Memphis where he was admitted to a private suite on the top floor of Baptist Memorial Hospital. His next professional engagement was back in Las Vegas in December making up for the cancelled shows.

#elvis in the 70s #elvis history #elvis presley #rock history #elvis #live music #musicians #las vegas history #elvis 1970s #las vegas hilton #elvis fans #las vegas #bootleg #pointer sisters #Youtube

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jennaguirreseo · 10 months

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Benefits of Hiring a Certified Personal Trainers in Las Vegas Nevada

You can hire a competent personal trainer for strength training workouts to increase your motivation and skill as they tutor your fitness plans and weight loss goals. In order to hire a personal trainer you must look for the right credentials and fitness certification programs along with experience. Look for fitness trainer who provides one-on-one independent personal training and makes working out convenient by training you in your home or personal gyms.

Visit Now: https://www.jennaguirre.com/personal-trainers

#personal trainers las vegas nevada

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ussportsradio · 1 year

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On US Sports Radio

The Latest from Oukick, The Joe Rogan Experience and Black & White Sports

The Raiders Play Here!

Saturday, December 24, 2022 7:45 PM (ET)

Raiders @ Pittsburgh Steelers

Lincoln Kennedy with Tim Cates, In-Studio Host

From our partners!

BBcom:

Tips for Surviving Your First Week of Working Out

Begin your lifting experience with a bang.

Beast Sports:

4 Habits That Are Slowing Your Weight Loss Goals

Concealed Carry:

Ohio Legislature Codifies Preservation of Firearm Rights During an Emergency

#TalkRadio #NFL #Raiders #Steelers #Christmas #Talk #ussportsnetwork #ussportsradio

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artificialqueens · 2 years

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Will You Make Me Believe? 5/? (Group Fic) - Candy Cane

A/N: gonna go ahead and upload this today even tho its not friday <3 BIGGGGGG thanks to veronica and grinder once again!!! yall are the fucking greatest :,) this chapter is much shorter, and is def a "connective tissue" chapter. regardless, i hope yall enjoy!

Summary:

After ten years of the government taking down major cities, the collapse of Chicago is devastating for the Rebellion in New York and the Resistance in Las Vegas. They are trying to fight back, but things get complicated when the leader of the Rebellion disappears.

Bob goes looking for her and instead makes two new friends, Kim and Naomi. When the three friends return to New York, they learn that Sasha and Peppermint went off looking for Bob weeks ago. With a new goal in mind, Bob sets out with a team of her most trusted to track down her friends. But there's a much darker truth waiting for them in the Outside.

The Day After Chicago Fell New York City, N.Y.

Bob woke up that morning with no idea of what to expect for the day. Most people would spend the days following the loss of a city grieving, but Bob never found herself able to do that. She always woke up with a fire in her bones that couldn’t be shaken. It was a feeling she put towards her work, a way to motivate herself to make sure these tragedies could one day end.

…At least that’s what she told herself.

Today was different, though. Chicago falling was different. They had finally figured out the technology to stop the bombs, they had at least figured out how to alert and evacuate cities, but they were still too late. Bob didn’t wake up with a passion and a drive to do better, she woke up with a heavy heart and empty hole in her spirit. Not for the first time, Bob felt like she was constantly one step behind. She wondered if she would ever be able to save anyone.

Bob walked into the small kitchen still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, expecting to see the normal morning routine of the Rebellion. She and Bianca were usually the first people up, and Bianca started the first pot of coffee every day. That morning, Bob didn’t find Bianca standing next to the coffee machine with a grumpy look on her face. It was odd, but odder things had happened recently.

So, she didn’t think much of it. She knew Bianca had had a late night, since she had heard Bianca puttering about the townhouse a couple of hours after everyone else had gone to bed. Bob had asked her to get some rest and Bianca hadn’t listened. That was just Bianca’s personality, though.

Without giving it a second thought, Bob started the coffee machine and in minutes the delicious scent was wafting throughout the whole house. Over the next hour, people started filtering into the kitchen for their morning drink of choice and some breakfast. Thorgy and Monet bickered over who got the last cinnamon bagel, Sasha made her morning tea, and Betty looked ready to commit murder. It would’ve been a usual morning, but the weight of the tragedy they had witnessed the night before still followed them.

This wasn’t the first time any of them had seen a city fall, but Bob held hope that it would be the last. The grief of losing Chicago lingered over the people of the Rebellion, she could see it in their eyes and their body language. With luck, they wouldn’t be held back for too long. Bob still couldn’t shake the mourning in her bones.

A couple of hours later, Bob realized she had yet to see Bianca. She went to Bianca’s room to check on her. It was the smallest room in the townhouse, but it was also the smallest. Bianca had requested it for herself when they still had Courtney in their ranks, and then months later she refused to leave the room after they lost Courtney. To this day, Bob couldn’t blame her.

Bob was expecting to find their leader pouring herself over the next step of their plan. She always got particularly feisty after a loss. Weirdly enough, though, the room was empty.

Concerned, Bob started asking everyone she ran across if they knew where Bianca was. None of them did.

Bob searched every inch of the townhouse, but she still couldn’t track down their leader. It scared her, but she tried not to let it get to her. There could be several reasons to explain Bianca’s disappearance, even though they weren’t due for a supply run for a few more days and Bianca wasn’t answering her radio or her cell phone.

With a groan, Bob went back up to Bianca’s room hoping to find some clue as to where Bianca went. There wasn’t time for them to sit back and wait for their next lead, they needed to buckle down and focus on tracking down the person who gave them the bad tip.

She swung the door open, and the room was expectedly empty. But Bob decided to look closer.

For once, Bianca’s bed wasn’t made, instead the sheets were askew and rumpled. Bianca had always been obsessed with order, with cleanliness, and seeing the bed sheets falling from the bed to the floor confused Bon even more. Out of the corner of her eye, Bob saw that the small desk in the room was barren.

Every step she took towards the desk made her feel just a little more ill. Usually, Bianca kept her notebooks, binders, and whatever else stacked on top of it, but now they were nowhere to be seen. On top of that, the drawers of the desk were pulled open haphazardly. It just wasn’t like Bianca. When they first moved into the house, Bianca had yelled at everyone for leaving things unkempt. There was even a time that she had berated Monet for leaving a fork on the counter.

Scanning the room again, Bob noticed the closet door was left open. Curiosity got the best of her and she opened the door wider. Bob’s heart dropped to her feet. None of Bianca’s clothes were in it, and her black duffle bag wasn’t in its usual spot either.

Realization hit Bob like a ton of bricks. Bianca was gone. No notes, no goodbyes, nothing. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her vision went red with anger as her body went stiff with fear. Every single one of her instincts started fighting against each other.

Bianca was gone.

With only one idea left, Bob ran out of Bianca’s bedroom and down to the office where they kept their computer and surveillance system, ignoring every surprised person she passed on the way to it. She could explain herself later.

She pulled up the camera footage from the night before and rewound it until she saw Bianca, with her duffle bag over her shoulder and a grimace on her face, exiting the house at four in the morning. Bob paused the frame, totally stunned at what was before her. Her fear was confirmed.

Bianca had left their Rebellion.

Peppermint stood in the threshold of the office, brow furrowed with worry, “Bob? What’s going on?”

Bob looked up at her, “I think… I think Bianca’s abandoned us.”

“What?” Peppermint asked with confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Pep,” Bob whispered, hardly able to admit the truth to herself, “She’s gone.”

~*~

Three Days Later Hamilton County, T.N.

Hours after sending a heads-up to the Resistance, Bob snuck onto the supply train that ran from New York to Nevada. She asked the Rebellion to give her three weeks to find Bianca, visit the Resistance and make it home to New York. None of them were happy, especially not Monet, but they were all understanding.

Locating Bianca wasn’t too hard. After they lost Courtney, Bianca would occasionally disappear for a couple of days, but she usually told the Rebellion before she left and when she would be back. This time, with all she had taken with her, Bob knew Bianca wasn’t planning on returning.

Two years ago, Bob had sewn a tracking device into the strap of Bianca’s duffle bag. None of them knew where Bianca was going, and Bob had worried that one day Bianca would leave and not come back. Bob had needed a way to locate her, just in case. She had never used the tracker before, had never had a reason. Even now, using it felt like a massive invasion of privacy, but Bob was so angry with Bianca that she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She had to do this. She had to know why Bianca left.

Sat on the cargo train and surrounded by boxes of supplies, Bob was immensely grateful to her past self for installing the tracker, otherwise she would be fucked. The tracker said Bianca’s coordinates were somewhere in southeastern Tennessee, so that’s where Bob went. Monet could take care of the Rebellion in her absence, at least while she tracks down their leader.

Before she left, Bob formulated a plan. Interrogate Bianca, then let her stew on the prospect of returning to the Rebellion, while Bob would go to the Resistance. She needed to talk to the leaders of the Resistance in person, she had to find a way to make their groups work together. On her way back to New York, Bob would stop at Bianca’s location and see if she was ready to return to the Rebellion.

Just one step at a time, right?

Bob couldn’t deny how worried she was. She was skeptical that she would be able to convince Bianca to come home. Strangely enough, Bob didn’t want to bring her back. If she left, then it meant that she didn’t want anything to do with the Rebellion, and that meant Bob didn’t want anything to do with her. But she had to know why Bianca left. She had to know what Bianca meant when she said that she had fucked up.

That was a thought that plagued her the whole ride on the train. The entire trip to Tennessee, she kept replaying that conversation in her head. Bianca had made it clear she blamed herself for the collapse of Chicago, and Bob wanted to know why. It wasn’t the fault of a singular person, and Bianca had never blamed herself before. Bob almost didn’t want an explanation, but she needed one.

The train ride to Tennessee wasn’t easy, it was long and full of bumpy tracks and sharp turns. She stayed hidden between cargo boxes that were undoubtedly full of ammo being taken to the Feds, wherever they were located. The conductor had happily let her on once she had paid him, but it still wasn’t a passenger train. It took two days to get to Tennessee. She was grateful for the rations that Monet and Bri had made her take.

Bob glanced at the tablet that was connected to the tracker. She was quickly approaching her exit location, a grassy field only a couple of miles from where Bianca’s tracker was. Jumping off the train was something Bob always hated doing. It had been more than a year since the last time she had done it, but she still remembered the experience with dread.

She shoved the tablet in her backpack and stood up in the small train car on shaky legs. Instinctively, Bob gripped the straps of her backpack and stared out at the ground before her. It rushed past and blurred together in a dizzying manner. Brown, green, and grey swirled before her.

Bob breathed in.

She braced herself.

Then she jumped.

She somersaulted off the train car and into the grass field before her. She gasped for air as she rolled to a stop in the grass, the train horn blaring behind her as the metal machine kept on. Bob inspected her palms and grinned. She had once again made it off with nothing more than bruised knees and scraped hands.

Bob stood and dusted the grass and dirt off of the knees of her blue jeans. There were still green grass stains on her pants and dirt on her back, but she didn’t care. Victory was coursing through her veins.

She pulled the tablet out of her backpack and was relieved that it wasn’t damaged by her jump. The coordinates pointed her northwest, towards the treeline about half a mile ahead. With a tired sigh and one last glance at her tracker, Bob made her way towards the woods.

She traveled on foot through the field, then through two miles of dense woods and underbrush until she reached a wire fence. Bob looked at her tablet again and groaned, the red dot showing Bianca’s location was just on the other side of the fence. There were no signs on the fence indicating it was hazardous, but she still didn’t trust it.

Bob looked around her and picked up a stick, and proceeded to poke one of the wires with it. Seemingly nothing happened, but she couldn’t be sure that meant it was completely safe. She walked up and down the fence a few yards on either side and grinned upon seeing a place where the wire was torn, leaving a wide enough gap for her to squeeze through.

Bob took her backpack off and pushed that through first. After it was safe on the other side, she carefully got onto her hands and knees and crawled under the wires. She stood up on the other side, grabbed her backpack, then looked down at her blue jeans with a sigh.

“Yeah, these are ruined,” she muttered to herself, though she didn’t really care.

With her tracker in one hand and her backpack secured on the opposite shoulder, Bob kept walking forward. Thankfully, she didn’t have to walk far. In a matter of five minutes, she broke out of the woods.

On the acres of fields before her was a house. It was big, much bigger than Bob would’ve expected, with a wrap-around porch and steps leading up to the front door. It was surrounded by gardens, lush and thriving with flowers and vegetables. There were children- no, teenagers, chasing each other around the yard with water balloons. As Bob walked up the house, she realized that had found a paradise.

And there, standing in the flower beds, was a woman. Bob blinked rapidly, unsure if what she saw was real. The woman’s long, blonde hair was topped by a wide-brimmed straw hat, her skin was tanned from hours of work in the sun, and the blue dress she wore swished around her knees softly. The sight stopped Bob in her tracks and her heart beat faster as she wondered how real this was.

The woman turned to look at Bob, and suddenly Bob couldn’t breathe. She had found a ghost.

Bob’s body started moving without her permission, and she ran towards the woman, unable to believe her own eyes.

The name slipped out of her mouth like a prayer, a name that belonged to an angel that was long dead…

“Courtney?!”

#rpdr fanfiction #bob the drag queen #bianca del rio #gen fic #bianca & bob #lesbian au #post apocalypse au #angst #dark fic #s8 #hurt/comfort #will you make me believe #candy cane #tw violence #tw dark imagery #concrit welcome

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