relatablyreid

[relatablyreid]

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[relatablyreid]

I thought this scene was really important. They always talk about the new names for what were once considered “disorders” and this is very common one that I thought more people should see. I never liked calling my mental issue a disorder. And they talk about how you have to make time to get better and that it’s not shameful. I really love this show.

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[relatablyreid]

[relatablyreid]

Heart - SR

Reid spent so much of his time investing himself into other people, that he never left any for himself. No matter what he did, he would push his own hour or half an hour off the calendar and disregard his importance another night in a row. This ranged from proper skin care and deodorant all the way to forgetting a meal or to drink water. The only thing he consistently managed that was considering self care on such a minor percentage was going to the bathroom. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even do that too.

Spencer’s energy dipped into pools of many masses to his life. Family, his sister and his older brother. His friends, like Morgan or Garcia. His partner, Luke, who was to no prevail ever going to be prohibited of his energy. His pets, Roxy and Sergio, the loves of his serenity but the heart of his occasional terror and headaches. His co-workers, Hotchner and Rossi. Acquaintances, like Tara, Kate, possibly even Cat. People he didn’t spend too much time around but always made sure to check in with. The crossing guard, or the bus fare collector. The receptionist at the therapy center. The delivery people who brought him his food. The list could and would likely never end.

Why? The reason which also happened to be a wrong sided sword swinging recklessly and repeatedly was his heart. It was too big to even fit in the chest canal that he had between his lungs. Really! There was holes in it, that filled themselves and now his heart takes up slightly more space! Besides that harmless fact, he thought much more with his heart than his head in emotionally involved or mentally involved scenarios. To each and every person he’d spoken to, he’d give them one hundred percent of his determined and constant effort and care, as well as his love if it fits to the occasion. That sword the hung would slice Spencer up on a weekly basis when those people that he helped and held so highly would bump into it and stab him. Right in the front.

There were a few to which he saw it being hopeless to ever take the love away from. Perfect example, his lover and very special partner Luke. If they loved together and spent all this time on dates, and he had given his virginity as well as his trust to this man.. then in what circumstance was it reasonable for him to withhold anything from him? Never, is how it was calculated in Spencer’s eye.

For some others, it would drain him. So much so that the only cure would be a nap, or a break. Maybe some faking would even be needed to finish the evening. People like his sister, would suck all the good from a positive day and throw it into the black hole into space’s raft. Once you spoke it out into the atmosphere, she’d take it, burn it, destroy all evidence by throwing it away. Never in these interactions would Spencer throw something negative back. Just get quieter, and quieter, and quieter..

For a vast of the acquaintances, Spencer wasted a lot of time. Caring and soothing and mending issues that he had no part in, or no effect to. Not to mention, the people in his life who would complain, and not follow any of his heartfelt or complicated but from personal experience advice. None of these people deserved his time, but he felt forced and situationally responsible to donate it to them.

At the end of it all, the tank would result in being empty. Many nights were spent with guilt from past attempts to help or past attempts to hope. Many nights drenched in mourning of better minutes. Even just sorrow from a somber sea that swept his feet up off the floor again. Multiple nights where his head hung in shame, all this work and effort put forth but no validation or trophy to frame. His heart would hurt, physically his head would ache.

The same man who put all his love into the world, and the world would never do the same.

For Luke, who would sit and play with him, and spend the entirety of days with him.

For Garcia and Morgan, who tried to lift his head up and keep him stable.

For Sergio and Roxy, who gave him something to hold close to his chest when nothing in his head seemed to rest.

He was grateful.

On a lonesome and rain filled night, these great things would surround him but his heart would over pound and, and yet again, he would be swept, or shaken or made to be mocked or tempted to break and.. it was exhausting.

A week where he’d placed all his heart, and he was hoping that for a moment.. no one would try to take all of his energy one more time.

In the corner of the library that very night, Spencer laid on the lounge chair covered in suede. No tears, because he was out again and about. He just hid between the pages of a book, hoping his heart would soon spout again.

#not guilty whatsoever but #this is a vent piece #i used spencer for myself #i needed to pinpoint what i felt #this is an example of a hurting spencer

[relatablyreid]

Exhausted Library - SR

The library ladies at the front desk knew who Spencer was just by the way he would rush in there, and they didn’t need to check who was wearing the Converse sneakers at this point. Once he made his way past the desk with a kind greeting, he would rush into the psychological or the Italian book shelving section and he would remain lost in the aisles for hours. The last to leave consistently, and one of the few to show up. If it weren’t for Spencer being such a constant visitor, they might be out of business. Through the rough time where they were struggling to make funds meet the ends to the taxes and supply cost, he started leaving five dollar bills between books. Then he would leave those donation filled books right on the front desk in the drop off bin. It was likely the smartest and slickest way for him to manage this, because before each book was put away, they had to flip through it and all papers or bookmarks inside would fall out. He would give all of his savings and investment based savings to this library to keep them alive. They were one of the few in town that was within a decent walking distance from his home, a comfortable one at that. A warm one, for those days when the rain wouldn’t let up. Not to mention, he used to work there. Which for him of course, was one big fun day to relax. It soothed him to be able to put the books back, and he liked the task of organization. Didn’t like to spend too much time monitoring the computer stations, which is why he wasn’t often assigned that task. This was a home for him, where other living situations or circumstances may have made him feel like a wandering ghost. There was nothing better than seeing his own name on the little ID card, and hearing the friendly charm ding as he stepped through the security gates. Nothing easier than being able to drop his books that were due off as they were due, on the way to the bus before his work day. Of course he loved being here. What was there to dislike? There was a corner towards the back of the bottom floor that begged for him to rest easily once again, and it was a desire of his own as well. In shorter terms, this library was Spencer’s backbone as much as he was their spine.

On this fine and well wasted week, Spencer had made his way into the library yet again. His fine idea of a freedom ridden Friday night. All alone at the library, with plenty of time to file through pleasant and favored types of novels or books. He greeted the two ladies at the counter, and even waved his ID a little. They hadn’t seen him in a little bit of over a week, and they were likely in a state of curiosity about his whereabouts or his exciting ventures made over the course of the week. They could tell it was a long one, I mean, on plain assumption, anyone within a decent ten foot radius from his lanky self would see. The bags under his eyes spoke larger than his own voice would, heavier than that of any type of grocery bag packed. Not to mention the purple bruise sitting below his bone below his right eye, that coated that mass of the space. The most recent case they had been subjected to was a designated assist to the case where children were stuck in a church that had turned into a cult. The church used to be a Christian one, yet was turned into a cult where the leader was turned into the holy trusted godly figure, and all were to do as he said. Even if that meant to die for him. The FBI, or the Behavioural Analysis Unit was involved because there was a few children being subjected directly to this harmful man, and they had to get as many of the children out of there before they were all killed. Emily though, had taken much more of a beating then himself. He was guilty, but he was grateful for the kind notion she had made by subjecting herself to this obstructive man. While maintaining further inspection, his face had a gentle dusty look to it, that read: “I quite literally rushed here right off of my plane ride into town, and I don’t regret it nor am I necessarily sure of how I look.”

The librarians had stepped him over to a kinder new section of the library, pretty much designated to please Spencer. It was almost installed in a perfect timing, finished earlier that morning far before Spencer was due back in from the case they’d been working. The rain fell so softly, drizzling and delicately coating a sheet of water droplets on all the bushes and plants outside of the library and all over the town. The sky was dim and cloudy, and the air was chilled with the gentle breeze that was produced.

This little gift that was being presented to him could not have been done so perfectly in any other world or timely fashion. It was inside of the break room, and it was all hidden in the corner spot of the room on the burgundy countertop. Just on the other side of the sink, where the drying rack was for dishes. They turned the machine on, and it woke itself up with a cheerful little ring. It was a coffee machine, with little packets you placed inside of it to make the coffee. There was a small brown box sitting beside it that was labeled ‘Coffee Packets’ in fine writing that was neat but obviously handwritten and then a smaller one that was labeled ‘Occasionally Acceptable Hot Chocolate Packets’ in the same writing. The first thing he noticed besides that there were two options to his drink choice was that the hot chocolate had marshmallows in it. Just as Spencer loved it. A warm hug was given to both of the lovely ladies who had set this up for them, essentially, Spencer saw them as his grandparents that weren’t related to him but boy was he grateful for them? More than he had been to his actual grandparents. Those of which, not to mention, he’d never met but regardless of that. He opened the cabinet, and he took out his mug that read: ‘Greatest Librarian Ever,’ and he placed it below the spout of the machine. He also placed in a packet for the hot chocolate, and he let it steep water for a moment or so before it kindly provided him the hot chocolate that he had made. Simply so, it brought a weak and tired smile to his face. Another round of hugs to the lovely ladies who had done such a warming and welcoming task for him. On that note, it was time to get into the relaxation station that he called his corner. He took the warm cup of hot chocolate and made his way to the aisle that would be full of Italian translated stories, or just Italian stories. Spencer was slowly learning Italian, so that he would have some sort of leverage to add to his profile on valuable skills. Strauss couldn’t hate him and his talents forever. He yawned a little, and he put his book down on the desk for a moment to get situated in his seat. He rearranged his sweater on himself, pulling it tighter to his frame and snuggling it to his cold bones. For once, he could get as warm as he wanted. Sitting down in the seat, he picked his book up and flipped through until he got to the last page that he had been skimming. He held the book comfortably with both hands, occasionally stopping to take a sip from his hot chocolate.

At some point, he put the book over his eyes to hide his face from the lighting of the building and he closed his eyes. In that very moment, it was guaranteed that Spencer knew how exhausted he was. Could he have predicted that he was bound to fall asleep in that position? Absolutely not. His head was hanging off the over side of the back of the chair, and his hands were across his lap as his arms were laying limply too. The wooden chair with such a gentle cushion had framed the man to his corner and his position so well. The loose, wavy and disheveled hair hung so freely of the edge of the seat and his book remained tucked over his face. On that evening, Spencer rested. For plenty of hours into the evening, he rested well. In the cozy and comfortable safety that was his second home, the library down the block from him.

#this is a weak and tired spencer #without a luke or hotchner #just spencer #this was written for the soul #this was to warm me through my stressful week #i hope you enjoy this one!

[relatablyreid]

Medical Attention - SR & LA

Sniffling and various coughing was audible from the kitchen, and Luke felt so awful. His handsome man was ill, and aching. He sounded like he was suffering in the worst possible way, and he just wanted to help his lovely man. There was only one reason preventing him from doing much, and that was based off of his respect for Spencer and his preferences. Since the start of their friendship, he’d always respected the way Spencer preferred things to stay. Even down to shaking one another’s hands. Obviously at this point in their relationship, they’d passed that boundary and many others in regards to physical contact and Spencer’s germaphobia.

Spencer didn’t really like a lot of help with things like this, and it often caused him extreme guilt and paranoia when he was being helped. He wanted to be able to prove that he could help himself, and that he had a lot more of an easier time taking care of himself than others may have suspected of him. Though, the way he was drifting through the hallway, leaning on the doorway and fully only making it to the bathroom because of the ability to lean against something.. hadn’t been making him look any more capable than the next guy. He coughed a bit with every few steps, and sneezed twice on his way there. After the sneezes came violent coughing, and a whine. He was making his way to the bathroom because of the obnoxious nausea that came with each cough. It forced him to have to leave the bedroom, and the awful bed he’d been trapped in all day. Normally at the end of a day or the beginning of a rough morning at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, he’d want to be in bed and home. This was a period of time where all he wanted was to be outside of the room, and house. Free, and able to enjoy nature and work and seeing his colleagues. Whom he missed so very much. Texts from Emily, from JJ, from Rossi and especially Garcia had him emotionally touched because they all wanted him to feel better. Garcia wrote a whole essay just about him taking care of himself and feeling better. Considering his physical and mental health state had been in a hole recently due to how sick he’d been, it warmed his heart easily and brought tears to his eyes to see how much his team cared about him.

“Hey, baby.” Luke whispered, placing his hands gently on each of Spencer’s hips from behind, and slightly guiding him. So gently, that the change in direction or exact tilt he was walking at was barely noticable. It was just to make sure he got to the bathroom safely, and without him stubbing his toe or slamming his foot into something. The last time he’d done that was earlier this morning, and he cried for ten whole minutes over it. The pain must have hit him physically in a way that effected him so poorly in an emotional form, and he sobbed his heart out. Even curled up on the floor for a moment, to mourn his previously fully functional and fine foot.

“I’m.. gonna puke, I.. I hate this feeling.” Barely above silence did the weaker male attempt to reply, with a sniffle to top off the warning in his statement.

“That’s alright, amor. I’m here.” Luke said softly, keening to Spencer’s hips and the way of which is wavering movements were made. Just trying to steer him safely. Once they’d entered the bathroom, from the spot where Luke’s hands were, he could practically feel something rumbling around in there. He sort of figured that Spencer wasn’t going to be able to keep down the toast he’d tried earlier. “Here,” Luke stood beside and allowed Spencer chance enough to sit on the floor. As Spencer had sat there, Luke placed a hand in his hair and moved it out of his face. Tucking the loose strands behind his ears, as best as he was capable of. The hard part was making sure it all stayed back and behind his ears, because Spencer developed a tendency of puking projectile and viciously. The coughing arose after the puking, and he gagged at the smell of his own vomit. Who wouldn’t, it always smell great going in and gross coming up. It made Luke sort of wish that it could have been leaving him in a less painful way. Puking left Spencer crying, whining, groaning, with an inconsistent sore throat and various other patches of dryness and a fiery feeling.

When he felt the food leave his stomach, and his belly empty, he whined out from the back of his throat. Leaning against the wall besides the toilet, he held his hand to his forehead and clenched his eyes. It sounded so bad, like an awful bass drum thumping and he knew he should lay down.

“I-I didn’t want it to come to this, I didn’t want to have to go and lay down, I’m so exhausted though,” Cried the poor defeated man. Except Luke promised he wouldn’t make Spencer feel weak, or incapable of caring for himself. Luke stood like a shadow behind Spencer, so he could get himself standing again and if he stumbled, Luke was there. Of course, Spencer reached both arms and hands up towards Luke’s, gripping them to pull himself up. He stumbled a bit towards Luke, leaning against his chest for a moment.

“I.. I hate.. just want to be.. feel better,” Repeated Spencer as he made his way right back to the bedroom. Spinning slowly around and to the door, Luke placed his hands on Spencer’s hips to guide him back to the bed. Then, made sure he was able to climb up into the bed and safely so. He pulled the covers up and tucked Spencer in, making his way to the kitchen. He got an all around pill, an over the counter one. The famous Advil Cold and Sinus one, and popped it. He squeezed the pill liquid out for the drink he was giving Spencer. Spencer wouldn’t take a pill, or physical medicine unless it risked his life with the other option being certain death. He really wouldn’t even bother if it did threaten his life. Luke wished he would for his own safety and health as well as benefitting his bettering. Yet Luke understood where these fears came from, and why Spencer was so concerned when it came to medicine or drug usage.

“I brought you some juice, to hydrate you a little and then maybe we can rest? Is that alright mi cielo?” Luke checked, making sure Spencer would be feeling better even if it was only a little for a short period of time. He just wanted to soothe some of the stress on his partner’s shoulders.

“Sure.. I hope, I hope you know that.. I love you, and, and thank you.. so very much.” Spencer reached a hand to Luke’s, to hold onto it and make sure he was genuine and showed how thankful he was to Luke. He took the juice and he sat up a bit using his other arm. He just needed to prop himself up enough to prevent choking on the juice. Especially with his clogged throat, and nasally passages. Taking a small sip, and then gulping down the rest through a few seconds, he managed. He handed the glass to Luke, and it was placed right beside his bed. Spencer let his arm that held him up drop from under him, and he laid back down on the bed.

“Are you tired, and do you have any interest in sleeping now?” Luke checked, and Spencer nodded. “I’m pretty tired, is that alright if we rest baby?” In Luke’s mind, he figured that it had been an exhausting and draining day. Not only physically but mentally, and likely emotionally as well. It was sort of tiring for Luke, in terms of being so consistently worried and anxious for Spencer and his safety or health. So in the gentlest and most caring way, Luke wanted to see if Spencer had his last fight with this illness and whether or not he was willing to rest himself now. The key to getting an easy escape from any sort of cold or sickness was a decent rest.

“Yes.. please, please.” Spencer sounded like he was damn near crying for it. Desperate for some sort of sleep and a beneficial rest. Knowing that this would help him, he tucked the blankets nice and close to his neck and head. The windows were becoming less of an issue, as the sun faded from the sky. The curtains were drawn to the perfect levelling, and it hid the men from the bright lights.

“I love you, mi cielo. I’ll always be here, to take care of you even if you can do it yourself.” Luke encouraged, and he rubbed the shoulder of the tough hearted and struggling male. He kissed all over Spencer’s upper shoulder, and he continued to do so until his partner had fallen asleep.

#sick spencer reid #helpful luke alvez #i just did this to assure me sore self

[relatablyreid]

#drug ridden reid is a good one to write

[relatablyreid]

#stimming

[relatablyreid]

Breaking Boundaries - LA & SR

Even if this suggestion had sat on his mind for the past month that he’d known his collegue Spencer, didn’t mean he wanted to act on it. To ask out Spencer, even within the building would be weird because on public work grounds he’s looking for love or even a one night exclusive with his work partner. If he asks for his number, he’ll be asked why. Asking Garcia to quite literally confidentially slip it to him isn’t as sly as he desires because then on a need to know basis, he’ll have to explain himself to her. No one around would he be able to ask for advice on the pressing matter because everyone in the Behavioral Analysis Unit would pry, and that’s not only because of their internal curiosity but more so because that’s their job and how they make money. It also wouldn’t be something to let slid under the door when the newbie is asking for information on a long timer of the unit, suspiciously so. Today’s self set mission was to figure out the simplest and easiest way to ask his current work partner, and friend to go out with him to a little restaurant near his own home. Why? Probably because the only thing he ever really smiled at was making others smile, but Spencer’s was one he longed to see again and more often. So as he sat in his box within the bullpen, he scribbled ideas on his yellow standard notepad and hoped no one was looking over his shoulder. It didn’t seem like they would though, deep in argument over some of Cher’s best music. One voice he hadn’t heard speak up too much was his daydream partner Spencer, and he didn’t know where to assume he’d been. Possibly filling out his paperwork, then, considering socially popular music and media didn’t interest him too much. He knew so much about Spencer, and he just wished he could share it to him or tell someone. He had to go somewhere. All this nervous energy, all these bad memories behind his anticipation was killing him. It seemed like it was creating real pressure up in his forehead and-

“Luke? Are you alright?” Spencer asked, and he had been concerningly looking down at his face. It seemed as though if the nature was meant to be mocking to Luke, as if he was rising from the floor in the playground. There he was again, on the the concrete as his nose bled as rapidly as it was onto the cold under his rear end. People were staring, it wasn’t just Spencer. He was being pointed at, and laughed at. Faintly the taunting was audible to him, the random and sporadic way the others were throwing around the words ‘loser’ and ‘faggot’ at him. It was bleeding right into the scene, all around Spencer. Frozen in the scene, Luke stared at Spencer and practically gawked.

“Something’s wrong with him.” Spencer said softly, and he turned his head and looked around. “JJ! Something’s wrong with Luke!” Spencer shouted, and he kept an eye on the man in the chair. This accidentally brought attention to Luke from Prentiss and Rossi. There was now an unintentionally formed crowd around him.

To Luke, it looked so bizarre. His collegues and other students from his classes yelling cuss words at him and rude slang for what they presumed he would fit in regards to common social grouping and clique terms. On the random punch thrown to his face in his flashback, he snaps out of it all.

“I’m not a faggot, I’m not, I-I, just leave me alone please, I’m not a fag, I..” Luke blinked a bit then furiously rubbed at his eyes and then cupped his ears a moment to stop the repeating and echoing of his childhood trauma on the park grounds. “I’m not, I’ll be back, I’m just..” Luke failed to fix what possible mess he’d just made now. “Sorry.” Standing promptly, he made his way to the bahroom. He had a lot to explain and nowhere near any reasonable explanations. The only one he knew was a logical and acceptable explanation or excuse to use to defend his very recent actions would be to tell the truth. Yet, this wasn’t exactly something he’d felt the most comfortable with sharing to all of his collegues. It wasn’t something he’d like to have to say in front of Spencer, that’s for sure. Embarrass himself right in front of his first true love interest, and then probably never fully have a real conversation the same way again afterwards. He made his slow feet take steps towards the main sink in the bathroom, and he turned the cool water on. If he’s being completely honest, this began about two nights ago when in the comfort and as presumed safety of his home, he had fallen asleep on the couch watching some sort of animal planet video and he had woken up shaking and crying over his nightmare. Not necessarily how he’d planned for his evening to go, but certainly and depressingly how it’d ended. He hadn’t even been able to process the possibility of attempting to go back to sleep after that dream. As neatly as possible, he splashed at his face with water right over the sink. Then reached for the towels to dry his dampened face. He needed to talk to someone, he wanted to talk to someone about this. He stared down at his now half dry hands and he sighed. The trip back to the bullpen would be weird, because of what he damn near practically yelled to the whole room.

“Prentiss? How much spanish would you say you know?” Was the first thing he was able to ask once he stepped back into the room beside her and the group. The goal was to get himself in the room alone with Prentiss, in order to confide in her and then make his way back to his desk to sit alone. He intended upon just focusing on her until he got to talk to her, and relax.

“Suficiente para hablar. Que esta mal. ¿Mi oficina o fuera?” Prentiss replied, and Luke raised a brow.* Reminded him to never take the abilities of his little behavioral analysis family for granted.

“Sí, señora, ¿podemos ir a la oficina? Fuera de los libros. Por favor.” Luke requested, and he cleared his throat a bit.* She lead the way right into her room as the other agents glanced around beyond unknowledgable to what sort of route the conversation had taken. All that way easy to read was the yes, and office. On easy assumptions and putting two and two together, you could tell why they’d walked away.

Once he stepped inside the office and heard the door finalize the choice, he exhaled. Now he had to speak his peace, prove his sanity and hope Prentiss didn’t kick him off the team or have him turn his badge and gun in to take a trip of his own to the psychiatric ward down the block.

“Speak fast, they think you’ve really lost it, Luke.” Prentiss suggested, and she sat down at her desk. “Contrary to that popularly believed assumption, I don’t think so though. Speak fast if you’re guilty.”

“I had a flashback.” Luke was fragmenting to prevent throwing himself back into a whirlwind of traumatic memories and terror. It separated who he was talking to now from something that happened in the past. It helped him lay things out in reality as they were and are, not as one lump together.

“Flashback about what? Was it from your time in the Army?” Prentiss asked, making sure she thoroughly got the truth. He wasn’t one to lie and that she knew, but she didn’t know why her teammate had yelled an offensive slang word for homosexual at the top of his lungs in the middle of the professional workspace also known as the bullpen. She doubted that any of that had been for fun.

“When I was a kid. Not from the army.” Luke cleared his throat again, and he kept his eyes from nearing Emily’s desk or belongings. He didn’t want to have to face her after that, afraid that she was feeling embarrassed or ashamed.

“What happened in the flashback?” Emily had to pry a bit more to get the lid of this coffin open.

“Haz las preguntas más sí y no, por favor.“ Luke urged of her, hoping she would apply it so that he could have an easier time answering. “Hasta que me sienta cómodo. Por favor.”*

“Of course. Did you get yelled at in the flashback?” Emily had been narrowing it now, on request of Luke. She just wanted him to feel comfortable for now so she could piece together what just really happened.

“Yes, a lot.” Luke mumbled, realizing how shameful he ought to be for sharing this story with his boss and teammate. Someone he’d have to see on the daily for quite a long time after this.

“By who? Was it by your parents?” Emily thought for a moment that it could have been his parents due to how little he’d ever spoken about them.

“No, by all my classmates.” Luke began to anxiously bounce his left foot on the toes. It didn’t make his shoes obnoxiously squeak when he did so.

“How many kids, Luke?” Emily wanted to understand if it was the crowding of them all that scared him.

“Twenty two.” His eyes glanced around the room a bit scaling upwards in sense of direction. Vertical and right to left, but also from the floor to the ceiling and passing back and forth between Emily a few times. She didn’t look mad. In fact, she looked so gentle that it was incredibly hard to believe.

“What were they yelling?” Maybe they were the ones calling him a faggot. For kids to yell such obscenities to another child made a lot more sense.

“F-Faggot. I held hands with Ethan when I wanted to go to get lunch.” Luke confessed, and he bit his bottom lip briefly and let it slide through his teeth to be free again.

“Now you don’t have to answer, but has this happened again recently in a different yet still root wise similar form?” Emily had to be careful not to break the gained comfortability that Luke built up for the conversation.

“I want to ask someone on a date. My head doesn’t allow me to try, because it’s not right. I’ve been taught that it’s not. I’m not allowed to like him the way I do.” Luke chopped the sentences so he didn’t cry that time around. It was hard to keep a neutral to calmer facial expression when talking about something like that.

“You can love whoever you want, nobody set any rules against it. No one here in the BAU will judge you, Luke.” Emily tried to help out Luke, assure him in ways that a mother would. “Is there more to the flashback?”

“Yes. It’s stupid, though.” Luke’s eyes flashed up at Emily’s to see if she was still calm or reassuring. He didn’t want to upset her, because then he knew that he would be panicking.

“Nothing you say is stupid, Luke. If you didn’t share your feelings or opinions as they come most of the time, then we wouldn’t have saved as many people as we have.” Emily tried to praise him, hoping to coax the rest of the situation out of him but also make sure he knew he was heard and often times a valid component to the conversation.

“I got punched. Went home, my mother didn’t like it either, said I may have deserved it after all.” Luke had admitted to the most heartbreaking part of his story, and he teared up a bit. “I deserved it. It’s not right for me to like boys.” He repeated, as if he was reminding himself now.

“Luke, I hope you know that it’s really common nowadays for people to like the same sex or the same and the opposite. I also want you to know how legally and truthfully non-judgemental the bureau is. If anyone and I mean anyone in our unit decided to treat you different for whatever reason it may be, I’d certainly take care of it. It’s not a sin, or a crime, Luke. You know this. Love is love, and it’s not under your choice or mine. You love whoever it is you do, and that’s perfectly fine by me and the rest of the team. I shouldn’t be saying this regardless of it being off the books or not, but I like girls and I like guys. It’s like how the body is full of water, it-it’s just a part of me. Doesn’t make me bad, or a sinner.” Emily spoke from her heart, truly understanding and just trying to console the man beside her. No one really deserved to feel guilty for the one they decide to love, or date, whatever it may be. Girl, guy or anything in between, it wasn’t her place to judge. As long as the relationship was healthy, she couldn’t care less as to who Luke would prefer dating.

“Thank you, thank you really, Emily.” Luke swallowed his saliva and he cleared his throat a bit. “Thank you. I’m going to go back to my desk. I’m sure you can say something, not too uh, revealing.” Luke nodded a bit, standing and making his way to the door.

“Should I say it was a prompted panic attack, or prompted anxiety attack?” Emily asked before Luke had opened the door. “Puedo mentir, confia en mi Cualquier cosa por su seguridad y confianza.”* In hopes to keep him assured that this was off the books, not for anyone beside the two of them to know.

“Uhm, whichever will bring the least amount of questions. Graciás, señora.” Luke gives a small wave and a small smile to the woman before he makes his way to his desk. He did feel better, surprisingly so. He’d never really spoken about deep rooted traumatic events like that before, not with anyone.

Sitting down at his desk, he flips through and tries to file out his paperwork so that towards the end of his day, he’ll have twenty minutes of free time to use to his advantage. He planned on using that time to just ask the question. If not now, then truly never. No shame was supposed to be behind it, he had to remind himself. No shame behind who he loved, and no shame behind who’s hand he wanted to hold.

After finishing up his last folder, he closed it slowly and he let out a long sigh. Reassuring himself would take a quarter of the time he had out of the twenty minutes, but it’d make this a lot smoother.

Successfully, he makes his way over to Spencer’s corner and he knocks on the framing of it to the right side of the squared off office.

“Hey, Luke. How are you feeling? Emily told me it was a small anxiety attack, but I mean, it looked much like that of a different sort of panic attack. It looked like you were seeing a flashback, and you looked quite upset so I’m assuming it’s safely none of my business but I figured I’d check on you around now anyways.” Spencer had rambled slightly so, not having anyone to talk to for the past thirty minutes.

“I’m alright Spence. I’ll be okay. I got a real serious question for you, okay?” Luke set himself up perfectly now. All he had to do was spit it out.

“Anything. Anything at all, I’ll hope I know the answer to it and try to help you if I can.” Spencer turned to face Luke, except he didn’t have the strength to look him in the eyes directly or consistently.

“Do.. you want to go on a date with me? I was thinking that I could possibly make you some sort of food, I’m not too awful with a skillet and some veggies and noodles. If you don’t like pad thai, then I could always take you to a restaurant in town somewhere. Anywhere you like, really.” Luke finally found the courage and pushed the words out, and topped it with a smile. He had tried his best to look like he wasn’t sort of stressed for an answer.

“Pad thai is alright, I like it with the sweeter soy marinade rather than a soy sauce. I’ll pick some up on my way over there. If you send me your address now, I can rush home and get on something nicer to wear and then pick up a marinade, and be there for eight.” Spencer hadn’t said no. He didn’t disagree, or yell, or hurt him. In fact, he didn’t seem opposed to the idea in even the slightest aspect of things.

“You mean yes? As in yes, you’ll go on a date with me?” Luke asked, and he looked at Spencer in awe. Both of their faces coated in a bright red color, the excitement and realization of what was happening had filled their cheeks nicely with blush.

From her office, Emily had carefully peered through the slit of the blinds to spectate her collegues, brimming eyes over Spencer and Luke. Smiling, she realized who exactly Luke had mentioned when he spoke about liking someone and wanting to ask them out for a date. It was Spencer. Someone reasonable to be anxious towards asking out, in Emily’s personal opinion.

“Yes, Luke Alvez. I’d be pleased to go on a date with you.” Spencer smiled, and he looked up at Luke and into his eyes for a moment. The way his eyes expressed how joyful he was had filled Spencer’s heart, and he smiled a bit brighter just realizing how happy he’d made Luke. He decided to even add to the enjoyment. “Do you want to walk out, together?” He asked, a bit anxious because he was generally scared but newer to the romantic scene than he’d realized.

“Oh, sure, that’ll be cool, that, yeah! Alright!” Much like a school boy would, Luke stammered about as he basked in his excitement and overhwelming positive shock. He went to his desk and grabbed his bag, placing his pens in there and he flipped the overhang cover back where it did it’s job. He closed his drawers all the same, and moved his chair in once he was done. Then ripped out the yellow notebook page he’d used to write about how was going to ask Spencer out. It was all his braindumping, all his sorting out.

Little did he know, he wouldn’t have needed it anyways. Spencer planned on saying yes no matter how the event was presented to him.

Beside Spencer now and leading towards the exit, after holding open the front doors, he’d offered his hand to Spencer. “I’ll save you the fare and drop you home.”

Spencer smiled at the gentle offer, and he took Luke’s hand and nodded. “Two fifty isn’t much, but it is two fifty saved for this evening.” He was very happy to feel Luke’s thumb rubbing small circles into the back of Spencer’s hand. It put stars around his head and had him mentally drooling over how sweet and kind Luke was. It was exactly as he’d expect for Luke. It was perfect for the moment, and it was going to be even nicer to seem him relaxed and in a better mood for tonight. Luke probably didn’t know it, but Spencer adored his smile just as spassionately.

————————

* Emily says; Sufficiently enough to talk. Not too bad. My office or outside?

* Luke says; Yes ma’am, can we go to your office? Off the books, please.

* Luke requests; Ask me questions that are yes and no, please. It will help me feel comfortable. Please.

* Emily assures; I can lie, trust me. Anything for your safety and trust.

#luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez #this one i wrote to show a more anxious side to luke #and a less anxious side to spencer #something more open to new ideas

[relatablyreid]

Important Notice - SR & LA

This should have been said such a long time ago, Spencer had felt incredibly stupid at this point. Even if it possibly was something so clear, that you could visibly catch onto. It was proper to warn your partner of these issues before you delve into a passionate relationship, and last for more than three months, right? You try to get the bad out of the way, so there isn’t much to scare him away at a later date? Now was sadly the later date, and Spencer had never regretted his cowardly decision to misinform Luke of his stimulation issues and sensory issues.

“Spence? Querida mia, eh, dónde estás? ¡Necesito que te dé mi sorpresa! No puedo dar un regalo sin mi querida cerca.” Luke rang, placing his bag beside the doorway and slipping both shoes off near the front door as well but to the left. Where all the other shoes were. Only Luke had much diversity in shoe choice, and that was clear to see beside the door. A pair of black and white splattered pool slides, a pair of nice faux fur covered slide on boat shoes, two different pairs of running sneakers with one more tattered than the other and then a pair of proper attire fitting sneakers for work. Then, sat Spencer’s two pairs of shoes he adored. His converse, and his nice work shoes with their brown twine laces and white stich thread leather. Besides that, there were no other pairs of shoes that showed further residents to the Reid and Alvez home.

“Spence! I’m not kidding, quierdo, I want to see your handsome face, it’s been a long day. Where are you?” Luke continued on, hoping that if Spencer had fallen asleep that he’d have been awoken by the calling. By now, Spencer likely would have woken up so Luke had no other real option than to assume he was in danger or in harm. “Spence!?” Luke shouted, walking through the kitchen and into the hallway to the right exit of the little kitchen. There was no way he had left, without the car or a note. Strict rule that the two had made considering the jobs they worked was that if anyone left the home without being able to text or verbally inform the other of it that they were to leave one another a note. Where, when, and when they’d return and a proper signiture on the front with a tiny star on the back. The tiny star was what let them know it was the real deal, only they knew about that little code detail. Instead of screaming for Spencer once more, he silenced himself and froze. Maybe he’d hear shuffling or crying, to find where he would be in the home. Hoping he was in the home, so to speak. There it was, and Luke thankfully traced the whimpering to the bedroom they shared. Much like that of a freshly scolded child, the whimpering was persistent and seemed to match pace to the male’s rocking.

“Spence, hey, are you okay?” Luke asked, and he bent down besides Spencer. There had to be a trigger, but nothing was in the room. The window was open, the candle was burning as it seemed to have been for a while and the cell phone that belonged to him was laying on the bed with the screen on and bright, too. This didn’t seem like a regular panic attack due to the way Reid had been balled up this time, or the rocking.

Spencer shook his head as much as he could manage from right to left as if to try to say no, and he gripped his nails as hard as he could into the back of his calves that held close to his chest. He had his knees directly to his chest, and he was so tense and tight that it visually was painful to even see. The head tucked in as much as it was physically able to hide, without the neck snapping and dislodging the head from the spine and shoulders it was bound to. His rocking was fast, and his balls of his feet were doing all the pushing and he seemed so stiff with these motions.

“Spence, can you let go of your legs, please? You’re hurting yourself, Spencer.” Luke kindly asked, whispering. This was now piecing together like something he’d seen before. Much earlier, as in his beginning of his college days was when he saw something similar to this. Yes, Mr. Luke Alvez had a brief passion for daycare and babysitting. He had always went to this one house at the end of the block towards the start of the next one onto the main street of his little town which he resided in. The boy was a maniac for music, he even walked and talked to a tempo consistently kept with his fingers, and he lived by it. Self titled, a two one one tempo. He’d tap his fingers twice, then once and then one more time. He stepped twice and then once and then once but if he was going fast enough it seemed so normal. To mimick it was so near impossible due to the natural tempo you set yourself to. This boy one afternoon had all his toys scattered and unorganized, thrown around the room as if they were worthless. Besides that unusual mess, the boy was beating at himself in his tempo pattern. There was constuction going on outside of the house, and music playing inside of the house. After a panicked call to the mother, he’d been told to shut all windows and turn off all music. ‘Try to make it as quiet as you can so he can breathe easy again. He’s overstimulated.’ As instructed, he even turned the lights down low. Slowly, the boys breathing evened and he stopped hurting himself. Luke waited for a little to give him an ice pack or two in hopes to avoid setting him off, again. It was something he figured he’d have to copy the process to and apply to Spencer but more specific and gentle to his situation. Maybe he wasn’t so stupid and blank in the brain after all.

“Querido, please, you can loosen your hands.” Luke whispered, getting up and blowing the candle out and fanning away the smoke. Then, slowly and smoothly shut the window to prevent the outdoor commotion of the rainy streets and cars from interrupting the genius mind that Spencer had from calming down, and on that same note, he put their phones both on silent so no one from the outside world would be able to stop the soothing process that was leading Spencer back to stability. After closing off all sources of noise he could, he sat back beside Spencer but left plenty of room so he could feel like he would be able to breathe. “There’s plenty of air around you, you are okay, Spencer.” Luke tried to further verbally encourage some sort of calm because he didn’t like seeing Spencer in pain, or in fear. It was a pair of emotions that he didn’t think Spencer had deserved to suffer with any longer, really. The boy had seen and been through so much, he figured that all he really did earn at this point was a warm and comfortable home to come back to at the end of a stressful day and some nice loving arms or a sweet and protective chest to lay beside and curl into when the world was making him tense. A pair of gentle hands looking to massage out all the kinks in his back, and to smooth out all the stressors sitting on his brain. That was what Luke wanted to give Spencer properly so, because the turmoil he’d already slid through was so excessive and he truly had better things in store with Luke by his side.

Spencer’s bony hands shook with such a strong tremble, but only were lifted in order for him to bring his hands together for a moment or two to make a heart out of them, and then press a finger to his lip. It was an; ‘I love you and your words, but please not now.’ Not in a rude way at all, it was just a lot for him to think about and it put more pressure on his threatening to pop brain. Luke signalled back his affection, and with the same little heart. Sitting there, he waited patiently as Spencer rocked out and squeezed out each and every little ounce of overwhelming feeling he’d processed, and he eventually fell somewhat limp. Looked much like someone who’d performed an soulfully draining surgery, and needed to sleep. He loosened his tight fingers off of his calves and he let his khaki covered legs leave the console of his chest, and loosen to lay flat on the wooden floor, plopping so. His hands and arms lay loose, still across his chest and his head leaned back, hanging at the seams basically. It was a pose of pure exhaustion, and that was how Spencer felt. Tears that had fallen had now left brief stains of previous existence on his face, his pants with ripples and bents in them where they’d been pulled up, and his fingers so red and sore looking from the consistent pressure he had them forcing on his calves. Speaking of his calves themselves, they were all pale except the ten spots where Spencer dug his nails into them. Each fingernail left a prominent mark, and about four of them were bleeding. With the rocking, it moved the nails so slightly with each shift and that scraped some of the skin with it and it bled, quite literally tearing the skin apart. His breathing had taken the time to slow and regulate, and Luke decided it was go time.

Now was the clean up crew, or well— really just Luke’s time to shine. Shine with all his love and compassion he had for his boyfriend and to demonstrate with caring for him. Standing up and taking his time doing so, he made his way into the bathroom linked to their room and reached for the drawer under the sink. The sink was hooked to a series of drawers and the plumbing system had gone through the wall behind the drawers, and the mirror covered the entire gap between the two. The first aid kit, barely touched was taken from the drawer with the bottle of peroxide and sterile gauze, prepackaged and separately packaged. New gauze for each use, nice and clean. Luke was highly considerate to Spencer’s germaphobia, and always tried to make things comfortable for the man he loved. “I’m going to try to be slow, so I don’t do anything that will be offputting.” Luke said softly, nearing a soft tone of talking but it was still a whisper. Easy to say, Luke was really awful at whispering but right now, he sure as hell was going to try his hardest. Silently his hands moved, taking the plastic wrapping around the gauze off and dousing the tabs of it in peroxide, pressing them into the four wounds. It was hard to stay calm when he was still worried internally for Spencer. He wanted to know what set him off, if it was something specific or not. He pulled out a large bandage, and he placed it over two of the cuts that were closer together, then a second large bandage over the other two wounds to protect them for a day or two until they would need to be uncovered. He then slid Spencer’s pant leg down, as with the other one. The poor man in front of him was exhausted. Drained like a case had never done to him, he looked like all his energy had been sucked out of him like air from a balloon. Lids to his beautiful eyes were shut, but he was awake. It seemed hard for him to currently put forth much energy into regaining his control or organization, and he didn’t seem like he was planning on moving much for the rest of the evening. His loose hands, once squeezed tightly around his calves to push out the pressure of his brain were now laying palm up and relaxed, none of the tendons in his hand currently tense. His fingertips had been red and furious, moments ago and now were soothed by the time given to calm down. Nails of his finger tips were clean for the most part minus the four with glimpses of blood, which would have to be scrubbed off at a later date. Hair disheveled, and a loose strand brought over his right eye and laid over his lip a bit too. Finally at peace, but at such a high cost that it didn’t seem too worth it for Luke. It lit a little bulb in Luke’s head, so he could comfort Spencer in a simple and non-problematic way.

“Hey, querido. Open your eyes for a moment, okay? I’d like to show you something, alright?” Luke asked, making sure Spencer was awake and would be okay with this. He didn’t want to spring something massive and intense on his partner, because he’d just released all these massive and intense feelings. It wouldn’t make sense to clean him up and then break him down. Unintentionally or not, it would be rude.

A small nod from his boyfriend would do plenty for him, and to see his eyes helped add to the assurance of his plan. Although the beautiful eyes of his partner were seemingly empty, and lacking much energy as the rest of him was, it soothed Luke to see them. The emotion— lack thereof in Spencer’s eyes instilled a minor fear in him, and he hoped he wasn’t annoying him inadvertently so. Still, Luke got up to retrieve the gift he’d purchased for Spencer. It was a small stuffed animal, a tiny little sea otter. No bigger than the size of a regular roll of black electrical tape. Something minor for Spencer to hold onto, or pet as need be and comfort himself with if Luke were not around in case of occasional sadness, or a possible meltdown. Maybe even if he needed to have something to fidget with, to internally soothe him beneath his surface. It didn’t have to have a specific singular purpose, Luke just bought it for Spencer because he loved it, and he loves Spencer and decided to combine both. Making his way back and beside his boyfriend of whom he loves so much, he tapped Spencer’s hand to get him to open it. He does, and Luke places the small stuffed animal there for Spencer to observe.

The eyes once not filled with any other emotion besides exhausted were not lightly brimmed with gratitude and appreciation, for Luke. The action may have been small, and seemed awfully childish but it filled Spencer’s heart to know he was cared for, and thought about through Luke’s day. It set a tone that reminded him just how considerate and compassionate his boyfriend Luke was, and it cracked a smile on his once plain countenance. Laying his right leg down against the floor, he’d placed the tiny otter on his thigh, and he put his hands together again to make the heart for Luke.

“I love you, really. I mean it. Thick and thin as blood will run, I’ll be here as well.” Luke promised, picking one of Spencer’s hands to give a gentle kiss to. They had a code. Kissing the back of one another’s hands gently was a signal of everything being okay. Right now, it was.

#luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez #my writing #i wrote this because it shows a meltdown for spencer #it also shows how luke would likely handle it #it shows a compassion between two people that made me smile a lot #i hope you enjoy :)

[relatablyreid]

Repulsive, Repetitvely - SR & LA

Tonight was really purely shit, due to how insignificant as a person you’d felt. Smaller than the singular grain of sand sitting beside your limp body down by the ocean’s floor. No one seemed to have heard a damn word you’d said. For what mentally appeared to be the longest time. Not anyone in your family, or any one close enough to be considered as family. No one who’d been considered a friend. It felt cold, it felt like wet clothing after you impulsively jump into your pool at night and the breeze hits your skin. It felt like when you left the comfort and serenity of your moment in the bathtub, and the cool air of the bathroom or the wind brushing through your window is drifting over your skin as well as your head. It fills the room, with an invisible fog too dark to prevail. Thinking about it would cause more harm than good. Putting thought towards most things on your mind while dazed in the fog was an incredibly detrimental idea to act upon. As previously mentioned, no one would check up on you regardless of what action you took because as far as the others knew, you were fine. That was how you’d kept things, a way you felt as though you’d been taught.

Each tear fell and it was another insecurity based statement that added itself with a pin on your brain. Nothing in there was worth it anyways. Not a single fragment or even joking statement worth repeating, and nothing anyone around you wanted to hear. Why would anyone suddenly care? It’d been beyond twenty years without anyone even batting an eye toward things you’d said. Like mentioned, if nothing is wrong then everything is fine anyways. You weren’t physically actually bleeding out but the pain and strife as well as grief that came with all your current panic was flowing so passionately that it was like tons of knives repeatedly rushing back blade first into your chest. After crying for so long that you began to hyperventilate, the grasp on your legs had loosened into less of a clutch because you’d begun fading into a less painful minute. One where you’d exhausted yourself fully. Either you caught yourself to get to a bed, or that was where you remained.

Waking up briefly within someone’s recognizable tight arms was better than on the freezing floor of the entrance hallway to the home.

“I thought you died or something right in the doorway. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You look like you got beaten at both of your eyes, were you crying?” The softer spoken voice of your boyfriend questions in deep concern. He’s scared to let you go, but he places you on the couch in the corner spot so your head remains propped up. If anything is wrong, or to go wrong, he doesn’t want you suffocating. The gentle breath in signals that Luke has more to say, and it reminds you of how much you adore hearing his voice. “If you don’t have anything to say, just point to where it hurts so I can help take care of you for tonight. Sometimes it’s hard, and I-I think I understand that.. maybe tonight is hard. Just allow me to help you out, please, Spence.” Further prying for some pointers, fearful to cause more pain.

Managing, you point to your face and your chest, as well as your head. Making a motion that looks like you’re mocking squeezing your head. Not to mention the signal you made by your heart. A closed fist and a circle going counterclockwise, which was an apology. An unnecessary one. You hadn’t done anything wrong. For someone so academically intelligent, when it came to emotions or emotionally based responses, you seemed like a real idiot.

“Don’t apologize, really. Spence, you didn’t do anything wrong. Panicking is beyond your control and I’m certainly not mad at you for losing control tonight. We all break down, and it’s okay. So I’ll go and get some medicine, scream if anything happens or if you need me to come back.” Watching out for you, he just can’t afford to lose you. It’s too early, he’s had you for so long yet not long enough. With the way you two clung to each other and the thoughts of one another, it’d be way too soon. He hastily returned with two Advil, and a glass of water as well as a wash cloth. He almost damn near tripped on his way to you, in a motion that startled you. “I’m okay, I’m okay, it’s just my foot, it’ll be fine. Here, these should help or I hope they help with the headache.” There was a tension of just wanting things to be okay, and that was all that he wanted things to return back to. He didn’t like seeing you hurt, he knew you deserved more. Regardless of the fact that he’d be here through your weakest and strongest moments, he preferred the happier ones. Even though you two were generally extremely happy around one another 99% of the time, the sad moments would internally crush both of you. “Is there anything else you want or need? You’re not bothering me. I’ll grab pretty much anything for you.” Reminding you of how much you mattered because in his eyes, you were the world and more.

“I-I love you. I hope you know just how much, t-too.” You whispered, and sniffled a bit before flashing a small smile to your boyfriend. He was your world and more, and he treated you exactly how you desired and more. He was amazing, always willing to learn better and keep things good. Of course, everyone had flaws but he felt so perfect to you even with the flaws. As you laid up at night often dwelling on how repulsive you could find yourself at times, he laid beside you and held your hand hoping you’d feel his love through his grips and overrule such negative thoughts.

#spencer reid #luke alvez #ralvez #i wrote this because it shows a softer and panicked side of spencer #and a loving soft side to luke #i hope you enjoy :) #my writing