#i think i was in the middle of doing something about secondary jobs? maybe? who knows

[cookiescribble]

Show Me How To Be Whole Again

A/N: hi everyone! This is the fic I've been working on for eight months 😮‍💨. I hope it came out as well as I hoped it would 😅 - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer is abducted, you rush to the team to make sure you're there when they find him. After you get home, Spencer's behavior starts to get more and more concerning, and you're desperate for answers. (based on 2x15 and the aftermath of that episode)

Word Count: 7.1k

CW: Mentions of abduction, violence, drug addiction, withdrawal, arguing. some angst in the middle but i am incapable of writing something without a happy ending.

~~~~~

The call came early in the morning. They said they called you as soon as they could. 

If you were thinking rationally, or if you could stand being alone for 5 minutes after hearing the news, maybe you would’ve stayed home. But you couldn’t stay put knowing Spencer was in trouble. 

You quickly threw a few days’ worth of clothes in a carry-on bag and took the first flight out of the nearest airport. You were trying so hard to keep yourself together and not break down crying on a crowded airplane, but the thoughts just kept rushing in your head. You were so worried about him. 

When you landed, you called the team and told them you were going to the police station and you were going to stay there until they found him. You wouldn’t let anyone argue with you. You wouldn’t be able to calm down until they found him anyway, so being anywhere else didn’t make sense. 

You didn’t really think of what you’d do when you got there. You’d just been on autopilot since you got the call. You were hoping someone would meet you there. 

When you frantically burst through the doors of the police station, JJ was standing there waiting for you. You dropped your bag and hugged her tight. 

“It was my fault,” she choked out, sobbing. “We were together and… we split up… I shouldn’t have split up…”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, you’re not the one who abducted him. It’s not your fault.” You were also sobbing now. You tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself, but all you could think about was what could possibly be happening to Spencer right now. 

You calmed down enough to ask, “Where is everybody else?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath herself. “We set up at the unsub’s house. He took Spence to a secondary location, and Garcia set up there to get to his computers.” She looked down. “I really should be getting back there.”

You nodded while she talked. “I’m coming with you,” you announced. 

She looked at you, concerned. “We can’t risk you-“

You cut her off. “I am coming with you. I’m staying with you until we find him,” you stated forcefully. 

She didn’t argue further. She could see the desperation in your eyes, you’re sure. Even someone who didn’t analyze behavior for a living could see that. “Alright. Let’s go.”

…

You arrived at the house. You couldn’t tell how long the car ride took; every second felt like an hour. 

When everybody saw you, they took turns giving you a hug. You could tell they were concerned that you were here, but they could see how devastated you were. You think they understood. 

You hung around while they all did their jobs and tried to find Spencer. You sat next to Penelope and watched as she tried to do whatever she could to help find him. 

Time passed. The team was coming in and out of the room as they needed to. Derek was probably in here the most, giving his moral support to Penelope. 

Suddenly, the monitors in front of you lit up. 

“What‘s happening?” Derek asked. 

“I… don’t know,” Penelope answered. 

Your heart dropped as an image popped up on the screen. 

It was Spencer. He was sitting in a chair, his hands tied together. He was wearing the clothes you watched him pack on the morning you last saw him. 

He looked so scared. 

“Guys! Get in here!” you heard Derek yell. 

You couldn’t look away from the screen. 

The rest of the team rushed in, faces dropping as they saw what was happening. 

Someone was talking in the background of the stream. You couldn’t hear them. Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. Spencer was replying to whatever they were saying. Through your loud heartbeat, you could hear his trembling voice. Your eyes started to water. 

After a few moments, you heard someone near you say something and suddenly you were being pulled away from the screen and into another room. 

When you realized what was happening, you looked up to see Hotch holding your shoulders, pushing you away from the horrific scene unfolding on the monitors. 

You started sobbing. “I have to see him,” you tried to say, but your voice was cracking. 

“No. You saw that he’s alive. That’s all you need to see.” he said firmly. He was protecting you from seeing something that would truly break you. 

You couldn’t argue. What you saw shook you to your very core; you couldn’t go back in there. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. “You’re going to find him and bring him back safe.” It wasn’t a question. You knew they’d find him. They had to. 

You took a step back, telling Hotch he could go back to the team in the other room, and that you were okay out here.

You sat at a table, laying your head down and covering it with your arms. You had started crying, and you couldn’t stop. How could they do this to him? He’s never done anything to hurt anybody. All he does is help people. How could someone look at him and feel anything other than warmth, comfort, and love?

You heard footsteps come into the room. The girls came in and sat around you. You picked your head up to look at them, your eyes already swollen from crying so much. 

“What happened?” you asked frantically. Your heart was racing again. 

“He’s okay,” Emily said quickly. “He’s alive. The unsub… made him choose a victim to keep alive, but there’s going to be more victims… and then the camera cut off.” She took a deep breath. “It looked like making that decision let him live.”

You buried your face in your hands. This was so cruel. you knew he dealt with bad people every day, but… this was so heartbreaking. How could someone feel so little remorse for other human beings that they force an innocent person to decide someone’s fate?

You took deep breaths to try not to cry again. “I can tell he’s in so much pain right now… He’s going to blame himself for all those people’s deaths. The guilt is going to eat him up inside. He’ll feel horrible even if he does make it out of this.”

Everyone took turns patting your back to reassure you. “He is going to make it out of this. He’ll be home soon.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to believe it. You had to believe it. If you didn’t believe it… you would break down more than you ever have before. 

…

You stayed in that room for what felt like an eternity. The team took turns keeping you company when they weren’t busy. They gave you vague updates to let you know that Spencer was still alive. They didn’t tell you details of what they saw. You didn’t ask. Seeing the somber looks on their faces told you all you needed to know.

Eventually, everyone came rushing out of the room, putting on their coats and practically running out the door. Penelope came to sit with you, her eyes wide and full of hope. “They found where he is. They’re going to him now.” She hugged you tightly. “He’s going to be okay.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes again. This time they were happy tears. The immense rush of relief you felt was enough to render you speechless for a while, until you finally choked out, “They’re going to call us when he’s safe?” She nodded eagerly and you let out a huge sigh of relief. 

The wait felt like forever. You were still nervous. What if they don’t get to him in time? What if they’re just barely too late?

Finally, finally Penelope’s phone rang. She answered quickly, nodding at what she was hearing. Eventually she hung up and looked at you, smiling. “He’s with them now. The unsub is dead. They’re rushing an ambulance but his injuries seem minor considering… what’s been happening.”

You closed your eyes and took another big sigh of relief. “I’m going to meet the ambulance there,” you declared.

Penelope looked at you quizzically. “I don’t know if-“

“You said the unsub is dead,” you cut her off. “There’s no more danger. I’m going to him.” You saw keys to one of the FBI vehicles that was left over since they had multiple people to a van. You picked them up and tossed them to Penelope. “You know their coordinates. You drive.”

She caught the keys and nodded at you, unable to argue with your logic. You both rushed out to the van and sped over to the location. 

You saw the ambulance as you arrived there. You barely waited for Penelope to put the car in park before you were running out the door to where the ambulance had parked. 

You saw Spencer sitting at the edge of the back of the ambulance with a first aid blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was beaten up, but he was still conscious and alert. You were relieved his injuries weren’t worse. 

“Spencer!” you shouted as you ran towards him. He looked your way, his eyes widening as he saw you. 

You threw your arms around his shoulders when you reached him. His shock quickly turned to something softer as he relaxed into your arms, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You nestled your face into his neck for a few moments, unable to stop your sobs of joy. “Oh, sweetie…” you cooed into his ear. 

He moved so his forehead was touching yours. Tears were streaking down his face. “I’m sorry…” he started. 

You shook your head vigorously. “No apologies. You’re okay now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently and threaded your fingers in his hair “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He nodded and tightened his grip on you, kissing you firmly. He kissed you for a long time before finally pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled warmly, whispering back to him. “I love you, too.”

You stayed like that for a few moments before everyone started pushing Spencer to get in the ambulance so he could go to the hospital. You rode with him, of course. You held his hand the whole way there. 

He wasn’t in the hospital for too long. They were able to treat his wounds relatively easily. The team waited in the waiting room while you followed him into the examination room. 

When you came back to the waiting room, hand in hand, everyone rushed to greet you before you all headed to the jet. 

You sat in the corner of the couch to the side of the other seats, motioning for Spencer to lay his head in your lap. He followed eagerly, curling up on his side and nestling his head in your lap. 

You ran your fingers through his curls as he began to fall asleep. He must’ve been exhausted. You couldn’t imagine him sleeping during any of that. 

You stayed like that the whole ride home, him asleep and you petting his hair softly. 

You gently woke him up when you landed. “C’mon, baby. We’re going home.”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. You kissed his cheek before standing up, taking his hand as you went to the parking lot. He obviously wasn’t in any condition to drive, so he handed you the keys to his car and let you drive home. You insisted on stopping and getting some food on the way back. He said he didn’t feel hungry, but once he started eating, it seemed like he’d never stop. He must’ve been starving.

When you walked into your apartment, he grabbed you and hugged you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, relaxing into him. 

“I missed you so much.” He was crying again, sniffling softly. “I thought about you every waking moment. I knew I had to make it through because you were waiting for me.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. 

“I missed you too,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes with a soft expression. “I knew you were going to make it back.” You hugged him tight again. “I didn’t see everything. The team… made sure I didn’t see anything that was going to hurt me.”

He nodded, leaning down to stroke your cheek gently with his thumb. “I’m glad you didn’t have to see me like that.” He touched his forehead to yours. “What matters now is that I’m here with you.” He kissed you slowly, pushing your hair out of your face. 

You kissed for a long time, slowly making your way to your bedroom. You smiled up at him after a while. “As much as I would love to continue this…” You gestured to the bed. “You need to sleep.”

As if to prove your point, he let out a quiet yawn. You smiled as he sat down at the edge of the bed. You grabbed his pajamas from the drawer and helped him get changed and settled into bed. 

He lay his head on your chest and you stroked his hair gently, just like you did the whole way home. “Go to sleep, baby,” you whispered as his eyes closed. After a moment you heard his breathing slow as he fell asleep. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head before relaxing to fall asleep yourself.   

…

After that night, things got… bad. 

Spencer wasn’t acting like himself anymore. He was… distant. Cold. He had never acted this way towards you before. Or anyone, for that matter. 

You had never had a problem with intimacy before, but suddenly he refused to touch you. Any time you would reach for his hand, or try to put your arm around him, he’d just shrug you off of him and move away from you. It always ended in you mumbling an apology and putting some space between you. 

He never explained why he didn’t want you to touch him. In fact, he didn’t talk a whole lot anymore. You often sat in silence, completely apart from each other. You always used to be able to count on him to fill these silences, but now he just stayed quiet. 

When he did talk, he was a lot more cold to you than he used to be. You had never fought before, but now it felt like any time he talked it was to argue with you about something. It felt like he was always angry lately. 

He didn’t even like to sleep in the same bed as you anymore. Most nights, if not every night, he slept on the couch. You started begging him, telling him that you would never cross over your side of the bed, but he shrugged you off saying he just needed to be alone.

All of this was really taking a toll on you. You tried not to show it, because you knew he was going through a hard time, so you only let your feelings out in places you could be alone. Which meant you spent a lot of time crying in the bathroom.

This went on for months. You thought that, surely, he had to tell you what was going on eventually. He had never hidden anything from you before, so you didn’t really know what to do, or how to handle this. You didn’t want to push him into talking about things he didn’t want to talk about, but something was very clearly wrong. 

After a particularly bad argument one night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go to someone about this. For Spencer’s sake.

The next morning, you set an extra early alarm, quietly getting dressed and tiptoeing past Spencer, who was asleep on the couch, and silently leaving your apartment. 

As you got in your car and started driving, you started arguing with yourself in your head. Part of your brain was trying to say that this wasn’t going to help, and that this was just like being a little kid and tattling to a teacher. But the emotional part of your brain was saying that just telling anyone would be able to help Spencer. And that little shred of hope was all it took to convince you to do this.

You shoved open the doors to the BAU, hoping that Spencer’s stories about his boss barely leaving his office were true. When you looked around, you saw an office with a light on, making you breathe a sigh of relief.

You bound up the stairs, knocking on the office door, a little more forcefully than you had intended. Hopefully it would help get your emotions across.

“Come in,” a familiar voice ordered. 

You took a deep breath before opening the door, seeing Hotch sitting at his desk with a bunch of paperwork in front of him. You wondered just how much paperwork this job required, and if he was always here hours before everyone else.

He looked surprised to see you. He would probably be surprised to see anyone at this early hour, but considering you don’t even work for him, he probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of you coming here. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asked. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn’t really think this far; you just figured that surely someone who works so closely with Spencer had to know something, especially since he was a profiler. 

You thought about everything that had happened in the last few months, trying to find the right words to properly articulate your concerns. But all the thoughts about Spencer pushing you away and refusing your affection, mixed with remembering what your relationship was like before that fateful night of his abduction, overwhelmed your mind so much that you just couldn’t stop your emotions flowing out. Tears welled in your eyes before starting to streak down your face. Here you were, in Hotch’s office, completely unannounced and uninvited, and you were just standing there crying.

After a few moments of crying, and of Hotch looking very concerned at this scene playing out before him, you decided it didn’t matter that you couldn’t form the perfect words. You just needed to say something. 

Through choked sobs, you finally managed to blurt out, “What’s wrong with Spencer?”

Hotch looked at you, his expression as unreadable as always. “What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, too emotional to think about how you shouldn’t be saying all of this to your boyfriend’s boss. The words just started coming out in a rush. “Something’s wrong. We had never had a single argument before, and now the only time he ever talks to me is to pick a fight. He’s never present, he barely speaks, which I’m sure I don’t have to tell you is very strange behavior for Spencer. He never smiles anymore, he won’t let me touch him anymore, he won’t sleep in our bed anymore, he only sleeps on the couch…” 

You covered your eyes with your hands, trying to stop the tears from coming out. Finally, after some shaky breaths, you finished by saying, “I just wanted to know if there’s anything you could tell me about this. If you know why he’s acting this way. If there’s something he’s not telling me.”

Hotch hesitated before gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Do you want to take a seat?”

You looked at the chair, and you noticed you were shaking. You nodded, and sat down in the chair, trying to calm down. But you couldn’t help being extremely restless, your leg bouncing rapidly while you sat.

Hotch leaned forward, moving some paperwork out of the way and placing his hands on his desk. His expression was slightly softened. “Working in this field, you go through a lot of traumatic things. Reid’s abduction was one of the worst things an agent can go through.” His voice was low and steady, which was a welcome contrast to how frantic your own words had come out. “Anyone would struggle after that.”

You sighed. “I know, but-”

He raised his hand to cut you off. “That being said, we’ve all been able to tell that Reid has been a little off.” He saw you raise your eyebrow and added, “Okay, a lot off.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “We have some… theories, but we can’t know for sure what’s happening with him unless he tells us. And since he’s already struggling, we didn’t want to make it worse, especially since he’s technically just a subordinate or coworker. But if he’s not telling you either…” He looked at you sympathetically. “I’ll try to talk to him.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “... Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I came here out of the blue.” You stood up, taking a step forward as if you were going to hug him, but for once your rational thoughts took over and you stayed where you were.

He stood up after you. “You’re welcome. It couldn’t have been easy to come here and talk about this.” He reached out to shake your hand, and when you shook his hand back he put his other hand over yours and spoke softly to you. “I’m going to try to get through to him. I promise.”

His gentle hands and soft-spoken words were enough to reassure you, at least for now. You nodded, thanking him again before leaving his office. You were able to leave with a lot more composure than you came here with.

It was getting late by the time you left Hotch’s office, and there were a lot more people here now. As you came down the stairs, you looked up to see Spencer staring at you. He wasn’t angry, thankfully, but he looked… kind of dumbfounded. Which made sense. You had no reason to be here at all, let alone a reason to be talking to his boss.

As you walked towards him to get to the door to leave, he turned to you. “Hey…” he started, his voice soft.

You didn’t know what to say, his soft voice sounding nothing like what you’ve been hearing these past few months. So you just kind of waved to him awkwardly, pointing to your watch to indicate that you had to get to work, and you left the BAU. 

When you got back in your car, you took a few minutes to process everything that had happened. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to convince yourself that everything was okay. You believed Hotch when he said he’d help. It felt like Spencer was in capable hands.

…

Later that day, you had been in the bathroom when Spencer came home, and you didn’t hear the door open and close. When you came out, you saw him standing awkwardly in the front of your apartment. It made you jump a little bit. “Hi… I didn’t know you were home,” you muttered awkwardly.

He stood there looking at you, his eyes moving a little as if he was thinking of what to say. After a few moments, instead of saying anything, he walked over to you and hugged you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

You just froze for a moment, not sure how to react. But he kept his tight hold on you, as if you were the only thing keeping him up right now, and you finally started to hug him back just as tightly. You both just stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other.

Finally, he spoke up. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and he sounded so fragile. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was starting to cry now, making soft sobbing sounds into your shoulder.

Hearing him cry broke something in you, and shortly you were also in tears. “Oh, Spence…” You squeezed him a little tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay…”

He sniffled and shook his head, pulling back a little so he could look you in the eyes. “My behavior has been abhorrent lately. I’ve been struggling, and I’ve been bottling everything up. I didn’t realize just how much this was hurting you.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep up with his thoughts. “I guess I figured, if I didn’t tell you about my problems, then they couldn’t affect you. But I was wrong. It just made it worse.”

You looked at him sadly, one of your hands moving to gently stroke his hair. “You can always come to me with anything. I’ll always try to help you. You know that.”

Some more tears started falling down his cheeks, and you started to wipe them away with your thumb. “I guess I felt like… I didn’t deserve the help.” He took a few shaky breaths as he tried to calm down. “Like I didn’t deserve you being so nice to me.”

“Spencer…” you started, trying to make your voice sound as soothing as possible. “What’s wrong? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I… I don’t know if I can talk about it yet. But I promise I’ll tell you soon.” He looked at you determinedly. “Until then, I promise I’m going to try to be better to you.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed your face and captured your lips in a soft kiss, making your heart flutter.

After years of dating, you didn’t think you’d feel that flustered, shy feeling of butterflies in your stomach again. But, after these past few months of having no physical contact, this kiss almost felt like it was your first kiss all over again.

You couldn’t help but hold the back of his head to try to bring his face even closer to yours. You were craving his touch, and you needed his affection. On the off chance that this was a one-time thing, and that he would start to distance himself again after this, you figured you had to make it last.

He showed no signs of letting up, though, moving you both so you were laying on the couch, with him hovering over you. His lips never left yours the whole time, and his hands were moving around your face as if he was trying to remember what it felt like. 

He broke the kiss to look at you, before closing his eyes. His hands trailed from your face down to your neck, moving slightly under your shirt to your shoulders. He wasn’t just touching you, he was feeling you. As if feeling your skin would jog his memory of you. His breathing was soft and even as his hands moved down to your hips, his fingers gentle and slow on your waist as he started to lift your shirt up. 

Your breath hitched when you felt cold air suddenly hit your stomach. “Spence…” you spoke quietly, a soft blush on your face. 

He looked at you, his voice quick and reassuring. “I don’t want to do anything like… that. It would be a little too much for me right now.” He quickly flashed you that awkward little smile he had sometimes. “I just want to see you, to feel you.” His voice went a little quieter when he added, “I missed you.”

You looked at him sadly, reaching up to touch his face. “I missed you, too.” You leaned in to kiss him again. “I missed you so much.”

The soft, slow kissing resumed, and Spencer very carefully pulled your shirt over your head, his hands gently gliding over the newly exposed skin. You let out a dreamy sigh. You hadn’t realized just how touch starved you had been over these past few months. This is exactly what you had been needing. 

You just stayed on the couch like that for a while, his lips and hands on you, the gentlest of touches. After a little while longer, you started to unbutton his shirt, because you wanted to do the same to him.

He completely froze, sucking in a breath. You immediately pulled your hands away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, worried that you just ruined any progress that had been made tonight. 

He shook his head, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “It’s okay, I just… I don’t want you to see me with my shirt off.” He looked at you with pleading eyes, as if he was begging you not to ask about it. 

You hesitated, but instead of asking about it you tried to be a little more lighthearted. “I’ve seen you without a shirt plenty of times, Spencer.” 

He gave you a slight smile before the worried look came back to his face. “I just…” he started, “I can’t right now. Please understand.”

You nodded, taking his hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “I understand.” You stroked his hand gently with your thumb. “I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You can trust me.”

He squeezed your hand back, giving you another little smile. “I know you won’t. I do trust you.” He let out a little yawn and started to rub his eyes. 

You looked at the clock, not realizing how late it had gotten. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You leaned over to kiss his forehead. “You should get some sleep.”

You worried he would still insist on sleeping on the couch, but he just nodded, his hand still tightly holding yours as you both stood up and walked to your bedroom. He grabbed his pajamas and headed to the bathroom to change.

You sat on the bed and watched him for a few moments before he closed the door. You started to get dressed yourself, wondering what this problem was about. He had been a little shy around you when you two first started getting intimate, but you thought he had gotten over that. Had these past few months apart made the shyness come back?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Spencer coming back into the room. You stood up so he could get in bed. He looked so tired; you could see just how bad the dark circles under his eyes were.

He crawled under the covers, curling up and closing his eyes. You got in the other side of the bed, gently rubbing his back to soothe him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries, so you pulled away after just a moment.

He turned around, looking at you with those big eyes of his, and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath, as if soothed by your touch. You smiled softly. He looked more peaceful than you had seen him in a long time. It made it easier to close your eyes and relax.

It was silent for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep. But then, you heard him speak very softly. “I love you.”

You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you. You squeezed his hand gently. “I love you too.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead, making him smile. “Get some sleep. I can tell you need it,” you whispered.

He nodded and closed his eyes again, moving a little closer to you before wrapping his arms around you and nestling his head in your neck. You hesitated for a moment in shock before cradling him in your arms. You kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight, baby,” you whispered to him. Soon, you could hear his breathing soften, and you just listened to the quiet sounds of him sleeping for a few more moments before falling asleep yourself.

…

Things didn’t magically get better after that, but they did improve. 

Spencer went back to sleeping in your bed, though he seemed to have a hard time sleeping nowadays. He was always tossing and turning, and you usually woke up in the middle of the night to either try to soothe him to sleep or to keep him company when he couldn’t sleep. 

There was a lot more talking, and a lot less fighting. You could have more comfortable conversations, and he would politely tell you when he didn’t feel like talking. It was a lot better than him yelling at you to leave him alone. 

There was still some arguing, but usually only when you were trying to get him to eat. He was always saying he wasn’t hungry, and you had to try to push to get him to eat, saying he needed some kind of nutrition. Sometimes he would snap at you, saying he would eat if he was hungry and that he didn’t push you when you didn’t want to eat. He’d always apologize, though, and try his best to explain that he was either feeling nauseous or he just didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. It seemed to get a little better after a few days.

He didn’t mind a little more physical contact. He wasn’t always up for it, but he didn’t seem to mind it as much. It was always trial and error, almost like trying to pet a skittish cat. You’d start by putting a gentle hand on his, and he’d tense up for a second, and he’d either pull away and explain he didn’t want to be touched, or he’d take your hand and hold it gently. A big improvement. It was just little touches: holding hands, an arm around his shoulder, a hug… it never went past that.

He didn’t talk about what it was that was bothering him at first, but you trusted that he would tell you when he was ready. After about a week, he was finally ready to talk about it.

…

You both were sitting on the couch, in one of your quiet moments. You were reading a book, like you usually did when Spencer felt like being quiet. The silences were starting to get more comfortable, making it easier to just do quiet activities next to each other.

After a few minutes, Spencer cleared his throat, making you look over at him. You bookmarked the page you were on and turned to him. “What is it?”

He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure how to start this conversation. He closed his eyes for a moment to put his thoughts together, before opening them again to look at you. He spoke very softly.

“When I was…” he started, swallowing and taking a deep breath to compose himself before continuing, “... When I was abducted for those few days back in February, a lot happened. The man who took me had dissociative identity disorder, and dealing with all his personalities was difficult. But there was one of his personalities that was… nicer than the others. More helpful than harmful.” He closed his eyes again, and you knew this was really hard for him to talk about. You placed a gentle hand over his, and he let out a breath, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. He continued on, his voice still soft and sad.

“Unfortunately, one of the ways that he helped me was to… give me something to help numb the pain the others were causing.” He closed his eyes again, and he slowly rolled up his sleeves for you to see his arms.

You stared in shock. His arms were covered in needle marks. You covered your mouth. “Oh, Spencer…” You looked back up at his face, but his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he didn’t want to face this. You squeezed his hand to let him know you were here to support him.

“He would come to me saying Dilaudid helped with the pain, and after a few times, it started to feel… good.” He took another deep breath, his eyes still closed. “After he died, I took the bottles he still had. And when things started getting hard to handle… all the flashbacks and memories of what happened to me, I just needed to numb myself. And it worked, for a while. But eventually, I just… couldn’t stop.”

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentle. “You could’ve come to me, I could’ve tried to help you-”

“I didn’t want that,” he cut you off. “I tried to convince myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong. That it was just medicine that was helping me. But, obviously, I knew that wasn’t the truth. And I knew that if I told anyone about it, they would say I needed help. But I didn’t want help. I just wanted to live in this unrealistic world where everything I was doing was fine.” He finally opened his eyes to look at you. “That’s why I was lashing out. I didn’t want anyone to help me, and I also felt like I didn’t deserve anyone being nice to me.”

He looked at you very seriously. “I thought, if I didn’t tell you any of this, it couldn’t hurt you. I know how sensitive you are to other people’s emotions and problems, so I figured if I didn’t tell you, you couldn’t worry about me. Obviously, I was wrong, and that was a naive way of thinking.” He reached out and gently touched your face. “When I saw you at the BAU, I knew it was because you were worried about me, and I saw that you looked like you had been crying. And it just snapped me out of this false reality I had created for myself. And that’s when I came home and apologized, because I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep hurting you.”

You listened to him silently while he talked, letting him get out everything he needed to say before responding. “Why didn’t you tell me that day? Or the few days after that? Why did you wait until now?”

He nodded as if he was waiting for this question. “I read that withdrawal symptoms peak within 12-48 hours, and that it usually takes 5-7 days for the symptoms to resolve. So I wanted to wait out those 7 days just to make sure.”

You gave him a sad look. “But if I knew you were having withdrawal symptoms, I could have helped you. I really wish you would have told me.”

He sighed. “I wanted to do it on my own. To prove to myself that I could do it. That I wasn’t just going to quit halfway through and relapse.”

You nodded sympathetically. “Well, I’m really glad you told me now. We can get through this together.” You gave his hand a little pat. “You know this isn’t the end of it, right? It’s not just over when withdrawal symptoms stop. You still need to work out these issues that made you start this in the first place.”

He nodded. “I know. I want to try to get help now. I… I think I’m ready. I want to look into going to therapy, and maybe some support groups if I need them.” He squeezed your hand again. “I know I can make it through this, because I know you’ll be by my side.”

You smiled softly at him. “I’ll always be by your side.” Your hand trailed up his arms, looking back at the needle marks. “Do they… hurt?” you asked softly.

He shrugged. “Only when they first appear. They don’t hurt right now.”

You nodded, and you gently touched the marks on his arm. You looked at him, and you slowly brought his arm up so you could give every little mark a gentle kiss, to let him know that everything was going to get better soon.

He looked at you with big, loving eyes, and he started tearing up a bit. He pulled you in for a tight hug, sniffling as he buried his face in your neck. “I love you so much,” he said with a shaky voice.

You held him tight, rubbing his back to comfort him. “I love you too, Spence. Everything is going to be okay.” Your voice was calm and soothing. “I’m here now.”

…

Things started to get much better after that. Spencer was way more comfortable telling you when things were feeling more difficult than usual. Typically, it would be when he came home from a particularly emotional case. You were always there to hold him and to soothe him. There was no more aversion to your touch or need for extended silences. He felt comfortable in your arms, and he knew he could talk to you when something was bothering him.

He started seeing a therapist, and you always went there with him. Usually, you just sat outside the office for his sessions so he could have the one-on-one help he needed. Sometimes, if he was having a particularly rough week, he would bring you in with him for extra support. And you were always there when he needed you.

It took a bit of time, but you learned how to help with whatever he needed you for. If he needed a distraction, you could always come up with some activity to get his mind off of things. You played a lot of board games, and started learning to bake so you could just pull out a new recipe to try and he could focus on getting everything just right. When he just needed someone to listen to him, or a shoulder to cry on, you didn’t mind being that person for him. And sometimes he just wanted to be held, saying that the physical touch grounded him. You were always happy to hold him. 

Over time, things got easier and easier to deal with. Eventually, things seemed to be fully back to normal. You both knew that this was always going to be a struggle that could come back, but you knew how to handle it now, and you were certain that you could get through any struggle that ever tried to get in your way.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

[cowyolks]

Petals (König x Reader)

Summary: Being socially awkward makes it hard to say just about anything. König is as socially awkward as it comes. Sometimes actions speak louder than words.

Part Two

Warnings: typical cod violence, some injuries, other than that it’s pure fluff.

Words: Way too damn long, oop

It’s super easy to overlook the aspect of comfort and love when it wasn’t smacked directly in your face. You happened to be as oblivious as a rock when it came to love and affection, which is why it was so hard for you to believe that someone truly enjoyed having you around. That was until one of the soldiers told you to open your eyes and take a glance at the little things. They pointed out how you had a secret admirer this whole time, and he had been right under your nose.

They told you that König had feelings for you.

The first time someone pointed it out you shrugged it off, saying he was just being a friendly teammate.

You were both undercover, on a co-op mission at a local Russian casino, attempting to find a rising threat and take him down. You had put on your best dress, the black fitting material was not something you were used to, but it was all part of the job.

It was supposed to be easy. You were to pose as a gambler, blending in to the casino and sneaking your way to a weapons cache that was storing illegal assault rifles to sell to the public in Moscow.

You were slightly nervous, only because you were ordered to do the opposite of your typical specialties. You were the sniper of the faction, and being out in the open made you feel uneasy. König, as much as you trusted his skills was to be the one watching over you from the rooftops. He had gotten better at staying still, but his tall frame would be hard to conceal in such a cramped casino.

“König, you copy?” You brought your hand to your ear, feeling the barely visible piece of your comm. There was a faint shuffle, “I copy.” He murmured quietly, you could hear the anxiety dripping off his voice. You knew of his difficulty when it came to interacting with others. You had tried to assure him you would never ever make him feel less of a soldier for it, yet he still hardly spoke outside of missions, except to you on occasion.

“Hey, its alright. You won’t be speaking to anyone. Leave the talking to me.” You assured, adjusting the expensive ruby necklace around your throat. “That’s not why I’m anxious.” He mumbled. You furrowed your brow in confusion.

“What is it? I need you at your best, so let me know before I’m with the enemy,” you prodded, hoping it wasn’t serious enough for him to be so anxious he’d miss his shots. You heard a quiet huff, “I don’t like you being in the middle of this.”

You deflated, relaxing a bit as he admitted what was troubling him. “Relax, big guy, I’ll be fine and that’s a promise. Besides I’ve got you looking after me. I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine, right?”

“Right.” He added, just as you ascended the steps and into the casino. “Remember, I’ll draw him away, take him down and confiscate the guns. Easy peasy.”

It had indeed not been easy peasy. You had posed as a regular gambler, bidding your expensive necklace to the drug lord, yet he didn’t seem interested in it. “If I win, I get to see who you’ve been communicating to you in that little comm of yours.” He sneered as he shuffled a poker chips between his fingers.

You gulped, watching as he rose from the table as his other guards pulled weapons from their waistbands and pointed them all at you. Shit. You brought your hands up, lowering your shoulders in defeat. Even though you had your secondary hidden in a thigh holster, you could never reach it without being shot down.

“You come in here thinking you could beat me?” The terrorist pulled you against him, you squirmed, fighting against his hold until a knife was pressed to your throat. He pulled the comm from your ear, before pushing down.

“I’ve got your soldier. Surrender and maybe I’ll let her live and we can go about our days.” The terrorist growled as he was met with silence. But your eyes caught sight of König behind one of the guards. There was five of them, you’ve seen him take out more, but you couldn’t move to help with the knife pressed to your throat.

Your eyes locked, as the mountain of a man pressed a finger to his mask, telling you to stay quiet. Quickly you adverted your eyes. You heard the nearly silent noise of his knife slicing through skin. The body dropped, but it was enough of a thud to alert the other guards and the boss. “Don’t fucking move!” The terrorist screamed in your ear, pinning you behind him as he faced König, whose eyes were fiery under his sniper hood.

“Let her go and I won’t kill you.” His voice was lower than what you were used to. The terrorist laughed, pressing you closer to him in a disgusting way. You saw König grip his weapon tighter. Carefully you inched your fingers closer to your pistol.

“I’ve got you surrounded. Drop your weapon. Now!” König did the opposite, nodding to you in a subtle way. You brought your fingers to your weapon, bringing it up and firing a round into the man’s side. He fell, just as you pulled his hand so the knife wouldn’t slice your neck. König took care of the rest, throwing a knife into a soldier before shooting two rounds into the other two.

He turned to you, jogging closer as your hands shook. It’s been a while since you’ve been that close to dying. “You alright?” He asked, slightly winded from the men he had brought down. All you could do was nod your head, taking a long breath.

You glanced up to König, but his eyes flashed, catching sight of the terrorist cocking his gun and raising it to the back of your head. You heard the bang just as he pushed you out the way. König let out a strangled noise as the bullet pierced his arm, but it didn’t stop him from raising up his pistol and shooting the man in the head.

While the mission was regarded as a success, you still felt bad as the two of you took a chopper home, another following behind with the assault rifles. König had his arm wrapped and stitched by one of the medics and was resting next to you with his eyes closed.

“I’m really sorry.” You apologized guiltily as he popped one eye open to glance at you. The man held his breath, scooting closer to you so your shoulder hit his bicep. “Don’t be sorry,” he mumbled, glancing down at you through his sniper hood.

“You got shot because of me, you almost died because of me. If I hadn’t-”

“And I would do it again. In a heartbeat.” König vowed, speaking so strongly you knew he had to be sincere. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the first time you had touched him outside of a mission. It may have meant little to everyone else, but to König it was everything.

The second time someone had mentioned just how well attuned he was to you. You shrugged it off again, he was just being respectful.

The team had a day off, not away from the base of course, but a day where you could all gather in the lounge and have a couple of drinks and play pool.

You had launched into a story, your eyes lighting up in a way that made König’s heart beat just a bit faster. You had used wild hand gestures, as the other boys played pool. But rather than listening to you speak most of them were invested in sinking the ball in the slot.

You became aware of just how little people were interacting to your story, a frown pulling across your lips as you dropped your hands in your lap.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice scared you, as you placed a hand over your heart. “Oh, no one was listening anyways.” You shrugged it off, actually kind of hurt that no one cared to hear what you had to say.

“I was listening.” He insisted, his blue eyes softened through his mask. König had been listening intently, loving how your eyes lit up and how pretty you looked as you scrunched your nose.

“You seem to be the only one.” You admitted before your eyes grew excited again. “You want a drink? I’ll make you one for listening to me ramble.” You offered, to which König nodded his head before standing from the chair he sat in.

You crouched below the bar, pulling out a nice bottle of whiskey you had been saving. You poured him a glass before sliding it over to him, watching as his fingers wrapped completely around it. You chuckled, taking in the sight with soft eyes. “I wonder how many of those it would take to get you feeling tipsy.”

“Quite a few.” König brought up his mask a fraction, something he hardly did when it was just himself, let alone in front of you. Your eyes studied his sharp jaw, brushed with a light-colored stubble. He had pretty pink lips, and a rather impressive Cupid’s bow.

You could see him tense up slightly, yet he still quickly downed the liquid you had gave him. When you didn’t break your gaze he was quick to ask, “Is something wrong?” He spoke quickly and nervous.

“Course not,” you denied, flicking your gaze back up to his eyes. You sat up straighter, taking a sip of the burning whiskey. “You ever take your mask off?” You asked gently, gauging his reaction.

You saw his eyelids crinkle, a good sign that he was grinning slightly. “Sometimes.” He warmly hinted, as he slid his glass towards you. You were quick to fill it again, raising your own towards him, signaling for a toast.

“To your face. I do hope I’ll see it sometime.” You spoke with a laugh in your tone.

König took a sip, only thinking that you’d be the one he would want to show himself to.

Finally you fully understood just how well actions spoke louder than words a few months later. Missions ran smooth, and partnered with König you were your best yet. The two of you had worked like an oiled machine, and when one lacked the other picked up the slack.

You learnt little things about König the more you worked together. How he had a fascination for painting and drawing despite his large hands. He was very good at pointing out noises of wildlife, surprising you when he knew the different chirps of birds.

You learnt his quirks too, how when he was anxious he would puncture his nails into his palms. You’d gotten into the habit of gently holding his hand, feeling his fingers wrap to your wrist, holding it as if it was the most fragile thing.

So while you learnt his quirks, he learnt of yours. How you’d bounce your knee up and down at briefings, he’d put his palm on your thigh, pushing down your kneecap to stop the distracting noise. He also learnt of how you could name your favorite flowers within seconds, pinpoint that your favorite were cornflowers.

It’s how he’d ended in the middle of the field as the team had downtime on their mission until they were shipped out for the second phase. He was sore and had received a cut across his eyebrow a week prior, the stitches itching slightly and needing to come out. Yet König ignored the itchy feeling while he scoured the area for wild cornflowers, hoping to find a couple to gift you and to confess.

Confess that after this past year he had fallen, and fallen hard.

“Whatcha doing out here, König?” Your voice interrupted his thoughts just as he spotted a cluster of the flowers. “Thinking.” He responded bluntly, before lowering to his knees and sitting in the soft grass. You always had a way of making the words disappear in his brain.

“Mind if I think with you?” You teased, not waiting for an answer before plopping down next to him. König groaned softly, as he itched the side of his head, helplessly attempting to get the horrible sensation.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, shifting so you were in front of his face. He dropped his hand, letting it fall to the grass where he swung his fingers back and forth. “Damn stitches, bout time they came out.” He growled.

You tilted your head, warmly glancing at his blue eyes . “I can take them out for you.” You offered before forgetting about the obvious factor of his hood. You cringed, “never mind, I forgot about your mask.” You scolded yourself, but your mouth dropped open as König reached behind him, slowly pulling the hood from his face.

“König…” You breathed, watching as he looked at you with a gaze you were never able to fully see. He was beautiful, his light hair trimmed neatly, and his nose rather long. His eyebrow stitch was rather small, only a couple loops around. You shook your head, the two of you chose to say nothing as you got to work cutting the strings and pulling them out. His eyes would look up to you. At this point, König was sprawled out across the grass, with him being so tall you wouldn’t have been able to reach his face.

He wouldn’t admit how nice your fingertips felt against his face, one hand holding him still as it brushed across his cheek.

“I can feel you staring.” You commented as you pulled the last stitch. König blushed, averting his eyes, mumbling lowly, “can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

Your heart quickened as he picked a singular flower, holding it out to you with a soft grin. You took it in your grasp, noticing the familiar petals. “I ought to go, thank you.” He chickened, and for his size he moved fast, making his way to the base. As he left a paper slipped from his pocket. You were about to call out to him, but curiosity got the better of you.

You unfolded the paper, gasping in surprise at the image. Drawn in pencil was yourself, a small smile on your lips as you cradled your head in your hand. Scribbled at the bottom was a poem,

If only she knew,

My love for her would never settle,

She was everything,

Sweeter than her favorite flower’s petals.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #callofduty #König #Konig #soap mactavish #simon riley #modern warfare

[yourtouchismidas]

hiii i was thinking about a blurb about teenage gigi getting into a fight with her best friends and non of them showing at her sleepover, but Matty and the guys insist of having the sleepover instead, making her extremely happy <3

omg it's giving the best day by taylor swift second verse and chorus and i'm living for it.

i think maybe gigi is just thirteen, and she is in that age where she is navigating transitioning from a child to an adult and she's awkward and sad and she drums for long periods of time in her room and listens to moody music, but still occasionally is caught playing dolls with her sisters, making up elaborate stories.

since starting secondary school, you and matty have been slightly concerned about some of the girls she is hanging out with. she still has her friends who she moved up with from primary, but she talks more about claire now and a girl called neveah and another called isla. claire has been round for tea once, and she didn't say please or thank you at the dinner table and matty overheard her make fun of gigi's bedroom, asking why she still had a taylor swift poster up in her room, and if she was a baby.

but you both let it be. because she is finding her own way. and you know, with gigi's nature, if you said she shouldnt be hanging out with those girls, then she would want to do it even more. she begs you to let all three of them sleep over, and because she has been to all three of theirs now you feel its your turn so you relent. you pack shay and valley off to george and charli's for the night, and the twin's go to matty's mum, as gigi says that her and her friends will probably want to stay up late and be loud.

then gigi comes home from shopping in town, where you dropped her off to meet the other girls before the sleepover, and she is alone. she bowls through the door and slams it and runs up to her room before you even register she is home.

you're on the phone with denise about the twins and so you gesture at matty to head up, which he already is doing.

he knocks gently on the door, where he hears sad music inside. she doesnt answer so he lets her know he is coming in and then opens the door. she is lying in the middle of her bed, bag slung down, and staring at the ceiling.

"you okay baby?"

"yep," she says.

"where are your friends?"

"not coming."

"why?" he says. he sits down on the edge of her bed. she doesnt move her eyes from the ceiling, where there are still patches from the glow in the dark stars she took down recently. matty still has them in his bedside table, in case she ever wanted to put them back up.

"they hate me," she says.

"no they don't love," he says. "how could they hate you? you're wonderful."

this when she breaks and starts crying, although she pretends she isn't and quickly wipes her face with the back of her arm.

"what happened, baby? talk to dad."

"we played this game where we had to pick out an outfit for one of our friends, and i got claire and i picked her something nice but then she got all mad at me and said it was babyish and that i was trying to make her look like a baby like me. then i said she was being a twat and she got all offended and was like, i dont have to hang out with you you know, and then i said, well dont then and she was like, well i'm going home and she did and i thought the other girls would come with me but they didnt either, they all went to claires. without me."

"oh dear," matty says. he hates claire and her stupid little nose and the dots she draws in the corner of her eyes and the way she tuts when something isn't good enough. "claire doesn't seem like the nicest of girls."

"she's so nice. she's so nice most of the time but then she'll randomly do shit like this. and you just... dont know when it's gonna happen. like. it's like a puzzle i cant solve."

"its not your job to solve, babe," he says.

"what am i going to do?"

"you dont have to hang out with her you know. rosie and gemma are nice. and..."

"no i mean, tonight" gigi says, crying. she rolls over and puts her head in her pillow. "i'm supposed to be having a sleepover. and the girls are all at nana's or george's now. and i'm going to be alone."

she wails. matty puts his hand on her back.

"baby you're never alone. you've got me."

he goes downstairs to update you, while gigi cries, and you book cinema tickets and a reservation at pizza express and you send her the confirmation emails over text. you wait to hear the music go off and the door crack open and then she appears, not really saying anything, and you ask, "you ready?"

"mum and gigi and dad's night of fun!" matty says.

"i look like a mess," gigi says. so you take her upstairs and wipe her face with a hot towel and then put some make up on her and some cute slides in her hair. she picks an outfit and she looks perfect, matty thinks, halfway between an adult and a little girl, which is what she is, and that's fine, no matter what fucking little shits at her school think.

you all go and get pizza and gigi laughs as matty curls spaghetti into his mouth from above it and rolls her eyes. you sip coke and share popcorn in the cinema, gigi wedged between you, watching a PG13.

when you get home, matty makes a fort in the living room with loads of pillows and fairy lights, and you watch another movie on the telly, while you paint gigi's nails and then she paints yours and matty's. you dont mention her sisters the entire night. or her friends. it's just the three of you.

at the end of the movie you lie back in the fort and look up at the fairy lights.

"thanks," gigi says, "you're my best friends really."

she then tells matty to get a grip when he tears up about this.

"these lights remind me of when i had those stars in my room. i took them down because claire thought they were for babies. stupid right?" she chuckles. then "i wish i still had them."

that's what you do until bedtime, the three of you, standing on gigi's bed, listening to taylor swift and fixing the glow in the dark stars to the marks in the ceiling, finding the right one to the right mark like a jigsaw. after, you all climb under gigi's duvet, and fall asleep, tucked up together, with the stars looking down over all three of you.

#ruins #ruins behind the scenes #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #dad!matty

[fishy-xp]

If you could create chans background how would you do it ??

Have a nice day

this is difficult because i can't imagine chan in any other fashion other than coming out of the womb as a cleanly shaven, 30/40 something year old man who can shoot several bitches in the head from a moving vehicle. but alas i will try!

i think chan comes from a middle-upper class background. a well-respected family, the type that has a family photo taken in a studio where the mother is sitting on a chair in her best pearls and the father and son stood behind her in suits. chan is an only child. i don't know if it's the same thing in thailand as it is in china but most people want a son as their first child (because patriarchy and patrilineal lineage) so i assume when his parents had chan, they were overjoyed by their little boy. but as the only child, chan took on every pressure and expectation his parents and those around him held for him. he was expected to act well, do well and be well. he was the pride of the family and the one who would continue their bloodline. whether his parents were in a loving relationship or whether he had a good family life, i don't know, chan doesn't know either because he was shipped off to some fancy boarding school in europe. he stayed there for most of his childhood and adolescence and it's where he learnt english (we love a cultured dilf). chan was always top of his class, he's a quiet, studious boy that all the teachers love and the other students don't bother him because he carries himself with an air of righteousness that everyone can't help but respect. he has a small group of friends and they always sneak off into the woods to smoke expensive cigars and write poetry (how very dps of you).

chan comes back after he finishes his secondary studies to serve his mandatory military sentence. he's top of his regiment in field training and all branches want him. chan chooses to join the navy because that was his worst performing - worst performing still having broken any and all records the royal thai navy has seen in decades. he's in the navy whilst he's studying part-time a bachelor's of political science and engineering. he works his way up to become the youngest commander in the navy. chan meets another officer, a lieutenant from phuket that smokes cheap cigarettes, the ones you get from any corner shop, and always wears their hair in a pony tail. they teach chan how to hold his breath underwater for four minutes. they're found in the water one day, having been drowned and the higher-ups chalk it up to an accident. a naval officer drowned. chan quits the navy the day after and joins special forces. he becomes an infamous sniper and when he leaves the army, his record in the special forces is wiped clean.

chan first meets grandpappy theerapanyakul at a function event with his parents. his mother and father introduce him with all his shiny records and achievements and there’s this glint in grandpapa theerapanyakul’s eyes. later that night chan sees grandpappy theerapanyakul pull his parents aside. even later that night, when they all get home, his parents tell him that the theerapanyakuls have generously offered him a job as security detail for their eldest son. about a week later chan is whisked away to the compound of the major family as he begins his new life in yet another institution. 

once again, chan is easily the best of the new recruits, and maybe even the old guards. he falls into everything too easily as well, having the intelligence and diligence from his former years easing the change into something very familiar. morally, the job doesn’t get to him either. it’s not like chan hasn’t killed people before. 

chan meets korn one day on the patio, the man is sitting in front of an untouched chess board. korn calls for him and asks him if he knows how to play. chan doesn’t. korn explains the rules and then invites him for a game. that game would last for hours until all the pieces empty the board and the only ones left are two kings. the game only ends because chan pretends he needs to go do something. korn leans back in his seat and wonders if that should be taken as an insult or a compliment. he asks his father to make chan his head bodyguard that night. 

chan has comfortably been korn’s head bodyguard and the head of the bodyguards for a few years now. he’s gotten privileges such as his own private room and the other bodyguards treat him as if he, himself, was a member of the theerapanyakuls. chan also oversees the training of new recruits and he always has an inclination towards those who were just that bit better than others. from the pool of new recruits this week, three stood out to him. one explained to him what a database was and single-handedly digitalised all the theerapanyakul records. it was the first time chan ever felt his age. recruit two, chan doesn't know how or why he is a bodyguard. he's close to number one, who helps him through the physical training. as for his general ability tests, chan looks at the physical paper in his hand and then the digital record, both of which hold two different scores. it makes a lot more sense when chan sees he's assigned to khun tankhun despite not having finished his training.

and finally, number three. number three came in the form of a street rat with a slew of juvenile offences taking residence on his record and kept his long hair tied up in a ponytail. he was 'offered' recruitment as an alternative to incarceration and acted out at every turn. one day, chan locked him in an empty room with nothing but pens and paper and told him he wouldn't be leaving until he re-wrote the third rule of the bodyguards until the ink of all the pens ran out. several hours later, number three emerged from that room with his head bowed to the floor. he hands over the papers to chan and dismissed himself quietly. chan looks down at the stack of blank papers. the next day, number three sets a new record for target accuracy, beating chan's old one.

one day, chan is walking the grounds when a familiar smell hits him. the smell of old, cheap cigarettes that takes him back to the shipyard in chonburi. he finds number three smoking by the east wing of the compound by his lonesome. he doesn't do much once he notices chan's presence, other than straighten his posture.

"where you from boy?" he asks.

number three looks at the head of the bodyguards, his cautious eyes giving him the once over. he takes another drag of his cigarette and exhales. the familiarity threatens to smother chan.

'"phuket."

A/N: also no anon, YOU HAVE A NICE DAY. YOU HAVE THE NICEST DAY AND THAT'S A THREAT ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

#i don't know #i say as i write a giant ass post going into excruciating detail #i am just here to push a chanbig and armpol agenda #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche the series #kinn theerapanyakul #chanbig #kinnporsche chan #bigchan #peter knight #nodt nutthasid #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche cast #kinnporsche drabble

[aerysa-targaryen]

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞?

Request by anon: Would it be alright if I request a boromir x reader one-shot. I'm not great at coming up with plot but I'm just craving boromir angst, maybe something where you get in an argument with him over something or maybe where he gets super hurt because you've been avoiding him for months and he finally can't take it anymore and asks why and you tell him lord denethor forbade you to be near boromir because you were a distraction to him? 

Type: Angst/Fluff

Warning: none

Characters: Boromir, Denethor, Faramir and some secondary characters

Numbers of words: 2.6K

You’ve been friends with Boromir for a long time, you’ve always known each other. Since you were a child, because your father was one of Denethor’s counselors, the intendant and Boromir’s father. To be honest, you never really liked him, when you were little, he frightened you, and now, as an adult, you felt nothing but disgust for him. Despite this, your friendship with Boromir remained the same, you even became a close friend of his brother Faramir, you tended to console him, when his father was cruel to him, another reason why you didn’t like Denethor. So you grew up, and you became a beautiful woman, and as the months went by, Boromir’s attitude towards you changed, he was more polite, more courteous. There was a spark in his eyes that shone every time he looked at you, but you didn’t mind, you liked how he looked at you, how he talked to you. The only one in Minas Thirit who didn’t seem to realize that you were returning his affection was himself.

┊

One evening, when you had just left Boromir, a guard stopped you. "Denethor wants to speak to you as soon as possible, my lady. He asked that I escort you to his offices." The guard spoke firmly, and, you had no choice but to follow him. As you walked side by side in the white corridors of the city, you could not help but wonder. Why did Denethor want to see you? What was he gonna tell you? you shook your head to drive away those evil thoughts, and you realized that you were finally getting to the steward’s offices that you didn’t like. As the guard was leaving, you stared at his back before finally turning to the door and knocking. You waited for the man to let you in to push the wooden door and enter the office to light only a few candles here and there. You bowed before the man with grey hair, as the traditons wanted, even if you didn’t really think what you were doing. When you got up, you noticed the look in his eyes and you knew right away that you were not here to talk about the rain and the good weather.

┊

"You wanted to see me?" you asked him rhetorically, the answer being obvious, but you did not mind being somewhat insolent with him. "Sit down,y/n" he said coldly as you sat in front of him, eager to know the reason why he had summoned you. "I asked to see you tonight because of my son. You’re way too close to him, do I have to remind you that he’s a prince and you’re just the daughter of one of my counselors? Also, your father does his job in a pitiful way, I should send him back." He spoke in a hostile tone with an angry look. All your exchanges went like this, you were always measuring your strength to his, but, because of his social rank, he gained more times than he should have. "My father does a much better job than you, he should have been the steward, not you." You almost spit those words in the steward’s face that you didn’t like. Denethor, more than annoyed by your behavior, stood up and slapped you before speaking to you coldly. "Listen to me, little pest, I’ll be clear with you, stay away from my son."

┊

You put your hand on your red cheek where the man had dared to slap you, despite what he had just done, you kept your head high. "If I refuse, Intendant, what will you do? banish me from the city? You know very well that Boromir and Faramir will follow me through the whole Middle Earth, no matter where I go." You said in a confident tone. "Don’t you think I know that? Even if I don’t mind my incapable son following you, I want Boromir to stay by my side. That’s why, if you don’t stay away from my son, you’re not the one who’s gonna get punished… If you stay too close to my oldest son, I’ll have your father banished forever from the city, and he’ll have to fend for himself outside the city. Also, I think I remember him not being a good warrior." he gave you a smile that was all but honneste to finally lean towards you "it’s your choice, y/n" he finished, proud of himself, as if he had just killed an army of orcs all by himself. "So all right, I won’t go near Boromir." You talk, finally admitting to losing this verbal game.

┊

"You see you can be nice whenever you want. Now leave my office, I don’t want to see you again." He told you in that supporous voice that he always took to speak to his advisers, his servants and his people in general. You didn’t get prayed and you walked out of his office and slammed the door behind you, angry. You rushed to your room to think about what you were going to do. Once you entered your room, you came to sit by the window, looking at the stars above, in the sky. What could you do? This man was abusing of his power to keep you away from his son, and he must have warned the guards that if they saw you in Borormir’s company, they should come and tell him. Besides, if you persisted, your father would be banished from the city, he was your only family, and, you cared too much about him to lose him, too, he raised you since your mother died and you were more than grateful for everything he’d done for you. So, for once, you were gonna obey and stay away from Boromir, no matter how much it hurt you.

┊

At first, it was difficult for you to ignore Boromir and to act as if you did not know him, because he stayed by your side and you had to push him back several times in an angry tone so that finally he Abbandonne enifn . So several months passed, and the more the days passed, the more lonely you felt, despite Faramir remaining as much as he could with you even if you did not tell him the reason why you no longer wanted to see his brother. You just took a peek at him when you saw him, that sometimes he sent you back, but it never went any further, you were too scared for your father. Also you who loved Boromir, it hurt you to stay so far away from him for such a long time. But you told yourself that Denethor could not forbid you to see him forever, and, you hoped that one day he would reconsider his choice, even if you knew that this was certainly not going to happen. So you stayed alone with your pain, waiting for the days to pass, you even thought of leaving the city just to relieve your pain, but you were resigned.

┊

Boromir at first didn’t understand why you were pushing him away when the night before, you almost seemed to want to kiss him.But, when he noticed you kept avoiding him for weeks, you didn’t look back when he called you, when you passed him without looking at him. It hurt him more than you could have imagined, however nothing changed and you stayed away from him, you were so close and, at the same time, so far away. Away from him, away from his arms.To be honest, Boromir looked for a long time for the reason why you didn’t want to see him anymore, had you seen him in the company of another lady? Did you think he loved someone other than you? Despite the questions in his mind, he had no answers, and could not ask you why you were avoiding him. He was content to ask his brother about you, whom you seemed not to ignore, and this made Boromir jealous. Maybe in the end you loved Faramir and not him? Just that thought made him sad, but he couldn’t do anything, not as long as you kept avoiding him.

┊

So he decided to see you again, whether you like it or not, he had to know, he needed to know. He had to know how you felt about him, and more importantly, why you were avoiding him. So one evening, as you were leaving the main room, your books in your arms, he stood up and left the room, following you with a silent step. Like a wolf stalking its prey, Boromir followed you until he was far enough away from the room and you and he found yourself in a hallway where only a few guards would pass after dark. As you seemed oblivious to what was going to happen, Boromir went behind you and stuck you against the wall, using his body as a barrier, so that you could not go away. Your heart was pounding when you realized it was he who stopped you from leaving, your greatest fear was that someone would call you together and that guard would go and tell Denethor everything. You were so afraid that you just stared at the stone floor with a frightened air, yet when you heard his voice, you raised your head shyly.

┊

"Why are you ignoring me y/n?" his voice was calm as the man looked at you, in his eyes glittered a spark that you could not describe. "I’m not ignoring you, Boromir," you said in a calm voice as you looked at her eyes, which suddenly seemed to be filled with sadness. "Don’t lie y/n, you’ve never been good at it." he kept looking at you, he wanted to know why you didn’t want to see him anymore, when you didn’t answer, he sighed before he started talking again. "Tell me why you ignore me, please, did I hurt you?" he spoke softly, lowering his eyes to you, with a sad look. "No, you didn’t hurt me Boromir, you never hurt me, but…" you couldn’t finish your sentence while Boromir spoke in a sad voice. "Do you love my brother? I knew he was always better at love than I was, he was always nicer, more loving than me." His emotional distress made you sad and you gave him a sad smile.

┊

"I love you Boromir, believe me, you are one of the few interesting and beautiful men in this city," you spoke softly, as your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. As you spoke these words, his eyes began to shine with a new spark. "However, your father forbade me to stand by you, for I am a distraction to you, according to him. And if a guard sees me in your company, my father will be banished from the city and will have to fend for himself outside the city." As you spoke, you could see the rage burning in Boromir’s eyes. So that’s why you were avoiding him, because of his father, he had threatened you, and it pissed Boromir off to the max. Yes, he loved his father, but he absolutely didn’t like him threatening you because of the love you had for him. He leaned towards you and pressed his lips against yours before rising. "Stay here, y/n, I have to go see my father, then I’ll meet you in your room". Before you could answer, the man with the brown hair was walking away into the dark hallway, and, uh, he seemed furious. You quickly walked into your room before slamming the door behind you, and the hallway became silent again.

┊

Boromir walked into his father’s office without knocking, angry, before his father could speak, the man got angry. "What right do you have to threaten y/n? If you want to punish her for the love she has for me, I love her too. And let me be clear, if you dare threaten her again, I will leave this town with her, to make sure you can’t threaten her again." Denethor sighed, as if he had to explain to his 5-year-old son why it was wrong to eat candy before dinner. "She’s a counselor’s daughter, you’re a prince, don’t you see what the problem is? Do I have to explain to you that you are gold and that she is not worth more than mud? Be reasonable Boromir, there are other beautiful women who have a social status that will suit you better than her." While his father hoped that his words would appease his son, his words only enraged him further. "Can’t you understand that I love her, not another woman? that she has my heart?" he breathed, exasperated by the behavior of his father, who seemed unwilling to accept that what he felt for her was true.

┊

"Do what you want, Boromir, if you are stupid enough to choose her as your wife, do not come back to me if the people of the court mock you because of your choice, and, if you want my opinion, you will fully deserve to be mocked, for you seem to be blind to the love you bear her. Finally, you don’t seem to be any more intellectual than your brother… what did I do in heaven to have two stupid boys? Go away, I don’t want to see you anymore." He was talking about an angry look. Of course Boromir was very happy to obey him and he hurried from his dear father’s office, he hated to see you again. When he came to your room, he knocked gently on the door and when he received a positive response, he entered. You were waiting for him on your bed, sitting down, and you seemed impatient, but the answers could wait the next day, you missed him so much. only the stars knew what happened that night, but you clearly showed all the love you had for him, and as the sun rose, he made you a promise to marry you, no matter whether his father agreed or not.

┊

So, a few months later, you finally married, and lived your few months of joy together before Boromir was sent to Rivendell by his father. Your farewell was sad, and Boromir made his brother promise to look after you, no matter what. In the short time he travelled with the community, he often told anecdotes about you and your daughter, whom he loved more than anything, and he saw that he loved you. But he died protecting Merry and Pippin from the orcs, in his last moments of life, he asked Aragorn to tell you that he loved you and that he would be with you forever. You met Aragorn when he arrived at Minas Thirit, at the end of the ring war, finally, your daughter met him. She was very curious and when she saw Legolas, she started to follow him and asked him many questions, because he was an Elf and she had never seen one before. You had to go get her and you apologized to the blond-haired elf many times. He simply smiled and said that it did not bother him.So you learned what Boromir had asked Aragorn as he was dying and it filled your heat with joy, he was with you forever

┊

Thanks you for reading ! My request for Lord of the rings and the house of the dragon are open, so feel free to ask what you want ! Had a good day

#lord of the rings #boromir x reader #boromir x y/n

[doodle17]

Oh, I've been thinking

How do they all survive at Thorny Towers? Like, do they grow their own food or do they somehow buy it? With what money? Does Cal take side jobs so that he can ensure that everyone (at least Raz) is feed?

I can see them fishing during the summer, especially with the help of Linda. But then, how about winter?

Also, in regards to winter

Do they all sleep together so that no one freezes to death? Just them all in a blanket fort and Raz jumping around to give everyone a good night hug sounds really cute to me

Thinking back, it seems as though Thorny Towers does have a garden of sort, so maybe they had some plants, like potatoes there. And maybe Gloria was the one who decided to take care of them, but as time went on her mental state deteriorate and it became harder for her to take care of them.

I wonder if Gloria acts more "normal" during the day, when the sun is up. Because then she is practically always in the spotlight in a way

Secondary or thirdly or nthly,

When did Coach Olander first try to contact Cal? How old was Raz? And how long do you think the plan to steal brains has been in the works?

(n+1)thly,

What are your thoughts on Coach? Like do you feel that maybe he was sent to take care of camp kids as no one really saw any real potential in him and with that wouldn't want to send him on a real mission? And that's part of the reason he wants to take over the world, to prove he is capable

And as the stars are always in the sky

We wish you te best as the river flows by :)

They do go out an buy food, but they do grow some. As for where they got the money, there was a bunch left over from when the asylum wasn't abandoned hidden somewhere. They kind of forget they have it though, so that explains why they don't spend it a lot. And they do fish in the summer!

As for winter, they light giant bonfires in the middle of the asylum which aren't really safe but they keep everyone warm. Also, when has safety ever been a big concern for these people? Some people bunk together, because the inside of Thorney Towers isn't very big and most people's rooms are outside. So Raz does pay them little snuggle visits when he gets the chance

Oh, and in regards to Coach, I feel like this plan of his has been going on for while. I mean, he didn't have a set plan yet at the time. It was still being workshopped. He went to Cal about it when Raz was around 2 years old.

And I'm pretty sure Coach just wanted to work at the camp to train campers! Its possible he probably had some issues with people seeing him to much as a loose canon or something, but I believe that he just wanted to train young minds before he got the "taking over the world" idea

And I saw the little gift you left in my askbox! Thanks a million :)

#doodles rants #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #anon babble #Lobotomy family au

[mrssimply]

The Rubicon

As announced and teased, here is the second (and for now, final installment of my John Wick fic. I say final for now because I still have ideas, and I love these two very much so there is a possibility I might write more later.

Regarding this work, like the first, it flowed and I think I wrote it in something like a week. Everything was so clear, and easy which is a rarity when you're an author. It makes it precious for me.

I was buyoed by how amazing the fourth movie was, and when I got out I had so many feels to expel that I finished the first fic and started the second one right away. So this is basically a retelling of the fourth movie, with Santino alive (it briefly retrace what happens in the third, too).

Please, enjoy it, oh few John/Santino lovers like me. We should come up with a name for the ship, too...

Oh, and that one got an exclusive ship (cause I think it's the only fic with it in the fandom): Marquis Vincent de Gramont/Santino D'Antonio, because what's sexier than one little meow meow? Two little meow meows being terrible to each other and the rest of the world. It very secondary, though, the main ship is John/Santino.

Without further ado... a snippet from chapter 2:

Eight years ago, when John wanted to marry Helen, he called Santino for help. The call came in the middle of the night, on Santino’s personal line. John had gone through Julius, the Continental’s Manager in Rome, the only precaution taken for plausible deniability. Hearing his voice had felt like breaking through the deep waters he was drowning in since their break up. Like electroshocks to his heart, a shot of heroin to the brain, a painful rebirth. John had saved him time and time again.  The bargain was clearly in Santino’s favor: An opportunity to get New York back by eliminating his father’s cousin, and a blood oath more binding that any other promise, against help to reunite all of John’s targets in the same place. Their exchange was brief that night, and the following night in New York, too. Professional .  Santino clung to that like a life line as the usual longing he associated with John came bubbling back. The hitman seemed unsettled by the tone of their talk, and Santino wanted to slap him: what did he expect, exactly, when he was asking Santino help to get out of The Arrangement to marry someone else . When he was about to give someone else everything Santino had ever wanted? So he kept it to business even if something was screaming in rage and anguish inside of him the whole time. The marker had been a wicked thing, an offering to try and appease the beast yowling inside of him. A piece of John for Santino to keep forever. A way to possess him, even just a little. - Why did John call him for help and not anyone else? Maybe because he’d known no one loved him enough but Santino to risk so much on his behalf. Which was probably the exact same train of thought that led him to the Villa in Praiano when he needed help to get out again. - Cassian took his job seriously. After a year in Santino’s service, he’d learned to see through the mask and the callous attitude, beyond the sneers and the recklessness, probably helped by the fact he felt it was his mission to keep Gianna’s love for Santino alive. It meant Santino trusted him, even if they bickered half the time they were forced together by their respective jobs. It helped pass the time, in the mob boss opinion. Leonora had learned to ignore them. It also meant that when John appeared on the threshold of the Villa's grounds, Cassian was the first to welcome him. With a shotgun. Santino laughed. “Felt good?” he asked, leaning against the doorway as Cassian reloaded.  “Very. Can I do it again?” Leonora snorted discreetly and Santino eyed John, who was struggling to get back to his feet. His armored suit had done its job and protected him, but it hadn’t lessened the pain of the impact. “Be my guest.”

Read the rest on AO3

#john wick #john wick 4 #jw4 #John/Santino #John Wick/Santino D'Antonio #Marquis Vincent De Gramont/Santino D'Antonio #john wick 3 #my writing

[wizardheart83]

Rings of Power Analysis Part #5

Back to this format cause aesthetics

Durins 4 and 3 Vs Míriel and Palantir

Both are sets containing a ruler and an adult child. In both cases the ruler has access to mystical knowledge beyond the reach of most people ( the collective wisdom of past dwarf kings and Palantir’s palantir).

No moms, nowhere no sir, except Durin 4’s whose memory is a stick in the fight between him and his dad and everyone gets more beat up for it.

In both cases the adult heir to the throne is being hemmed in by the actions of their father.

Because of Palantir’s reforms Míriel walks a tightrope trying to be faithful but project agreement with the majority of her people. Because Durin 3 is holding onto the status quo that has worked well for his people and allowed them to thrive, his son Durin 4 feels frustrated and unable to enact plans he feels could bring them still more success. Durin 4 walks a tightrope between loyalty to his king and loyalty to himself and his friend. Interesting differences:

The royals in our two plots are asking fundamentally different questions.

Can khazad dum advance? vs Can Númenor be saved?

Both kings seem to be landing on “no” or maybe “not like that” but in different ways and by different means.

Palantir’s last scene shows him confused but hopeful, still believing that his daughter can turn the people to the old ways and save the island. But he doesn’t think that going to middle earth will help, and he believes it will be ruinous for at least Míriel.

Míriel and Palantir are/ were partners, carrying the secret of the wave and grappling with hope and fear together as Palantir declines, leaving Míriel alone, but not by his own choice.

King Durin has presided over a time of positive and rapid change and his rejection of Durin 4’s plan is seemingly based in the belief that that can continue without the risks associated with mithril.

The Durins are increasingly adversarial as the season goes on. They have different values and can’t bridge the gap, despite love and fealty binding them. Durin 3 in a sense abandons Durin 4 but it’s a pained act, he takes no joy in it .

Thus Durin 4 like Míriel, ends the season with a future in some serious doubt.

I’ve been tracking ambition in these, and of the two, Durin 4 is more openly ambitious but it’s debatable. Miriel is queen regent, vulnerable and powerful in equal measure. she’s on the tightrope over a populist uprising that could take the line of Elros off the throne for the first time since Numenor was founded and if she fails every still living soul she’s ever known or seen or had a passing thought about prior to Galadriel’s arrival dies horribly. Durin 4’s home will at best be more awesome, if he succeeds, or at worst stagnate (as far as he knows).

Míriel has more to lose, so what she personally wants is necessarily secondary to what she feels she can do without failing at her one very difficult job.

The above makes it hard to judge coloring in the line status as well … shall we call that “lawfulness”?

What does this show have to say about the tensions between being a good king and being a good father? Palantir has, we can infer, lost the ability to see Miriel by his end, to the extent that he can’t tell it’s not miriel in the room, but he talks clearly to his heir. Durin 3 turns his back on his son after looking him in the eyes and removing the symbol of his status as heir. (god this show has stuff to say about fathers, so much, but that’s another post)

The fates of these kingdoms and of the two adult children of their once rulers will be something to watch.

Both are at the end separated from the ones who incited much of the upheaval in their lives, our final pair Elrond and Galadriel. Look for that one tomorrow, probably. Then maybe some attempt at a conclusion but the show is in its earliest days so don’t count on that, this is a time for questions more than answers I think.

Ps if Durin 4 and Miriel parallels are your thing, this may interest you

#rings of power #wizardheart83 rants about parallels #trop #the rings of power spoilers #miriel #durin iv #tar palantir #Durin 3

[ina-nis]

"Meet me in the middle," says the unjust man. You take a step towards him, he takes a step back. "Meet me in the middle," says the unjust man.

I’ve been thinking about this, as I feel I’m “stuck” in the last step of recovery from AvPD, because of all these uncomfortable feelings that, somehow, don’t compare to the deep and old loneliness.

I prefer the loneliness.

Its pain is familiar, predictable and, obviously, doesn’t depend on anything or anyone else.

I understand my high standards and very strict filters with which I navigate social spaces don’t quite work in my favour - I’m probably missing many opportunities to connect!

At the same time, from watching and experiencing, people seem to want an easy love, something stress-free, and that’s what causes piss poor communication and absolutely awful issues down the line. Relationships are not always easy and they definitely can be really hard for someone mentally ill.

I want an easy love too, something stress-free, who doesn’t?

Now... who’s willing to put on the effort for that to happen? Because these kinds of connections don’t manifest themselves into existence. It takes work, sometimes a lot of work.

I take a look at my opportunities for connections and it’s a lot of really annoying things, really unfulfilling things and uhh... I’m supposed to settle for that and work through it - after all, there’s no perfect relationships and no perfect partners, etc - but 10 out of 10 times, I follow my guts (I try not to rely on that too much, considering trauma and stuff) and end up dodging a bullet.

No, thanks, I prefer very much to stay and remain single if the alternative is an absolute dogshit relationship. At this point, the bare minimum for me is communication, and that seems like an impossible feat for others.

I will not beg for scraps of attention, I will not deal with a relationship where I’ll not feel prioritized because of other person’s job or something (if all you have time for is work, I don’t want that for my life, even though I understand people might not have a choice. Well, I do, I’ll choose my full-time loneliness over a part-time relationship), I will not feel safe in a connection with someone in a established relationship (like I said a million times: I’m not fit to be a backup plan, a secondary or a convenience), I will not feel safe in a casual relationship either, the list goes on...

Things I have talked about exhaustively, things I kept second-guessing myself and thinking that, maybe, I’m being too harsh and that’s why I’m still single and don’t have local friends etc... and then I fact-check everything just to have the reassurance that, no, I’m not asking for too much and it’s not like I’m being unreasonable. I have needs and things I wish to do, I want for something to go a certain way, it’s not wrong or a bad thing.

Why are the compromises always so one-sided?

Why is it always on their terms?

Why when I speak up and put all these issues on the table, that’s too much and I’m being too difficult?

“I want to get better” means I want to get better relationships too. Half-assing anything never worked, why would I expect that to work now, when I know better and I’m not willing to put up with crap?

Why is it me that has to step on their level? Why can’t they try to make an effort to get on mine?

Why am I the one supposed to meet the other in the middle?

Hmm...

I prefer the loneliness, really.

#avpd #avoidance #avoidant #avoidant personality disorder #loneliness #inanis post

[misspearly1]

15 Questions!

Thanks for the tag @scorpio-marionette 🥰

I would tag all of my moots and my whole following list, but you may have been tagged already by others. So, if you see this post and would like to answer these questions, but haven't received a tag, just make a new post and tag me. I'd love to know more about you! ❤️

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope. I am not named after anyone, but my mum and dad named my siblings after someone and gave them all a middle name as well apart from me 🤣. I don't blame them either as I'm the second youngest out of 10 kids lmao.

~

2. When was the last time you cried?

November last year. Sounds longer saying it that way, but really it's only been a month and fifteen days since I last cried.

~

3. Do you have kids?

No kids. I have plenty nieces and nephews that take away my baby fever. 🤣 I'm not ready for kids and honestly, I don't think I ever will be. I can barely take care of myself some days.

~

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Does a bear shit in the woods?

~

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Oh, their smile for sure. Little smiles, barely there smiles, big, small, toothy or goofy, I love them all. A smile is so contagious and just passing a stranger who is smiling at someone else is enough to make me smile. I just love your smile, ok!

~

6. What’s your eye colour?

Grey/blue? I've always thought I had blue eyes but I tried that tiktok trend and the colour came out grey so Idek at this point. 🤷‍♀️

~

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies - always. I love a happy ending, but horror is my all time favourite.

~

8. Any special talents?

Surprisingly, writing. I'm certainly not the best, but I'm improving, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to create something readable/enjoyable thanks to my primary (elementary) school teacher.

~

9. Where were you born?

In a hospital.

~

10: What are your hobbies?

Listening to music. Playing video games. Writing fanfics. Reading. Painting/Crafting. Walking/swimming. Insulting my younger brother.

~

11. Have you any pets?

Two doggies. Pepsi and Charlie.

~

12: What sports do you play/have you played?

I played a lot of football (soccer) growing up, and basketball in secondary school (high school).

~

13: How tall are you?

5'5" or 5'6". I'm not certain.

~

14. Favourite subject in school?

History, English Literature, Media Studies - each teacher in those three subjects were chill af and they really made their subject fun to learn too.

~

15. Dream job?

Honestly, I do not have a clue. I always thought I wanted to be a nurse/paramedic, but when I started pursuing a career in that field of work, I hated every second of it and quit. My current job isn't the most exciting, but I love everything about it. So maybe my dream job is to work in a kitchen? 🤷‍♀️ Funnily enough, I spent some time in a hospital kitchen and I really enjoyed it too lmao!

#this was fun #Anyone can join in #I welcome you all to answer 15 questions #Tell me a little about yourself?

[disappointingyet]

Babylon

Director Damien Chazelle Stars Diego Calva, Margot Robbie, Brad Pitt, Li Jun Li, Jovan Adepo USA 2022 Language English, Spanish, Cantonese, French, Hungarian plus random bits of Italian spoken by Brad Pitt 3hrs 9mins Colour, Black & white

Movie decadence! Lots of running around! The worst movie score I have ever heard!

Something that massively fails to meet expectations is a big flop, but what’s a work of art that gets much closer to its targets but falls short? A small flop? A minor disappointment? Neither of those descriptions will remotely do for Babylon, which is immense in scale, cast size, running time, ambition…

Still, Babylon could be described as a flop since it failed to make back its production budget (let alone the full spend including ads etc) at the box office. The marketing tactic seems to have been ‘come for the wild party/orgy, stay for the elegiac speeches about movies-as-art’ but not enough people, it seems, were lured in by the promise of excess and decadence… 

It also, for the limited amount either of these things are worth, failed to make the anticipated splash at awards season (three Oscar noms – production design, costume design, score – no wins) and got a mixed critical reception. Its average on Metacritic is a middling 60, but few of those writers thought of it as a six out of 10 movie – you get there by balancing the 10s and the 2s, the lovers and the haters. Babylon is a film with lots of fierce defenders, and because of that, maybe down the line it will end up with a good reputation as they keep up the fight while those who didn’t like it move on. 

It starts in the desert outside Los Angeles in 1926, during the preparations for a huge party being held by movie mogul Don Wallach. I won’t give spoilers for what exactly is going on in this opening sequence, but it introduces us to Manny Torres (Diego Calva), the first of our main characters. He’s the guy responsible for making sure the event happens and that the chaos is just about contained. Although his job has introduced him to many people in the business, he has (we learn) never been to a film set. 

The party, when we get there, has a guest list of hundreds and no limits to the drink, drugs, sex (in the middle of the room) etc etc. The screen is crammed with figures like a painting by Bosch or Bruegel. As all this whirls on around us, we meet the other two central characters as well as two the film (to me) seems to treat as secondary leads. Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie) is convinced she’s a star, even though – like Manny – she is yet to set foot on a movie set. Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt), meanwhile, actually is a screen idol, a hard-drinking, much-married one. Then we have seductive cabaret act Lady Fay Zhu (Li Jun Li) – who we learn a little later also writes dialogue for the title cards shown in the (silent) movies of the time. And, because this is a Damien Chazelle flick, there’s a jazz trumpeter, Sidney Palmer (Jovan Adepo).

The next day after the party, we get to the film’s second vast set piece – an open-air film lot where – because there’s no sound recording – multiple movies are being shot right next to each other. There’s a cast-of-hundreds mediaeval battle scene almost right on top of a barroom Western. It’s an attempt to capture everything deranged and magical about the film business in one breathless sequence. 

And when that ends, it feels like Chazelle has thrown everything he can think of at us, gone maximum rock’n’roll from the start. It’s impressive, if exhausting… but there’s over two hours left of the film. Where are we headed from here?

Well, this is 1926 and in 1927 The Jazz Singer was released, and within a couple of years talking (and singing) pictures had made silents obsolete. Meanwhile, there was a moral backlash against Hollywood that would lead to the strict enforcement of the Production Code by the mid-1930s. The coming of sound – the way it changed movies and the careers it supposedly killed overnight – has been told many times, including by a movie that is heavily alluded to a couple of times in this and by a film that makes a crucial cameo here. Which is to say: Chazelle is aware this is not unchartered territory. 

Considering the epic running time, we don’t get to know the characters well, except maybe Jack – he gets a best friend, the many wives and plenty of chances to give speeches about modernism and why movies matter. The others seem more sketched in – we see Nellie doing plenty of wild things, but beyond that? And with Sidney Palmer and Lady Fay Zhu, Chazelle seems to be falling into a representation trap – ‘look!’ he’s saying, ‘there were black dudes and Chinese lesbians in Old Hollywood, but they are never centre stage in those other film histories, and they are here.’ Which is true, but they still don’t get much to do, character-wise (Palmer does get plenty of screen time but not really acting time, more standing-there-with-a-trumpet time.)

I approached Babylon with interest and a dash of scepticism. I often like Hollywood stories about Hollywood. I don’t approve of films with a three-hour running time. I have a mixed history with the films of Damien Chazelle – I loathe Whiplash, liked La La Land and had no interest in seeing First Man. I’m by no means an expert on the early film industry, but I know some of this stuff – I’m pretty sure, for instance, that the title is nodding to both DW Griffith’s Intolerance – one of the first movie mega-productions – and Kenneth Anger’s book Hollywood Babylon, a collection of lurid tales of scandal I first read in Upper Norwood library as a teenager and more recently have heard scrupulously fact-checked on the always excellent You Must Remember This podcast.

And after watching the film, I had a similar mix of feelings. The two huge set pieces are certainly audacious and memorable bits of film-making, and there are other good moments throughout the film. But does Chazelle have three hours of interesting stuff to say here? Not by a distance.

And then I kept being reminded of movies I like better. There’s what feels like a very long scene when Nellie is working on maybe her first sound picture, and everything keeps going wrong. The timing of the scene (to me) feels like Chazelle is anticipating times when the audience is just catching its breath after screaming with laughter when he’s going to hit them with the other gag… But I wasn’t splitting my sides – I was thinking fondly of the great ‘Would that it were so simple’ scene from Hail, Caesar! and of Living In Oblivion.

Like Hail, Caesar!, but well, not as funny

As well as the film that features so prominently in the film that I’m not going to name, as mentioned I thought of Hail, Caesar! a lot, and of The Bad And The Beautiful, Vincente Minelli’s masterful stew of various movie biz legends, as well (of course) with Pitt and Robbie back together, Once Upon A Time In Hollywood. (I also thought of the trailer for Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby, a film I will never watch.) Chazelle gives us more writhing bodies, more drugs, but not more insight. And then there’s the terrible, terrible music – not actual 1920s jazz (because they think the kids wouldn’t like that? Because Chazelle doesn’t like it?) but a horrible concoction, a grim, fat-sounding jazz-rock fusion. 

Should you watch Babylon? If you like big, ambitious movies, yes, I think so. If you like talking about films, yes – I’ve certainly had good conversations about it, and now I’ve written lots of words about it, too. It’s not a disaster, but is it a complete success? Not that either.

[isotherealone]

Changing the Angles

Personal story to my life perspective and the things I told myself to change it.

Stuck in one place. Time to start moving.

Have you ever felt stuck in one place?

I never really knew what I wanted to do so I have tried several different creative things: starting from singing, playing instruments, streaming videogames, belly dancing and later on pole dancing. And then everything stopped... Life got busy, work got harder; and I entered an 8 year long boring home-study-work routine.

The reason I started modeling was simple: Sometime in the middle of 2020 I went through a mindset changing experience; I wanted to change the routine in which I felt like I was trapped in - Wake up, eat poorly, go to work for someone you don't like, try to regain the passion for my career studies, come back home, eat poorly again, go to sleep, repeat the process. Every. Single. Day. I felt ugly, tired and bored.

Something had to change; my creative spirit wasn't being properly engaged. I think had depression... What had happened to my young, energetic, full of enthusiasm, intelligent bewitching self from 8 years ago? I didn't really like myself right there and then... But what if I had started looking at myself in a different way again?

Maybe I was not looking from the right angles.

How does one come back to the feeling of "I can do whatever I set my mind to"? For me; the first step was daring myself to try out new things I thought would lift up my self-esteem.

The way I wanted to see myself was more the type of a woman who would be sure and confident on herself, her qualities and charisma. I wanted to regain the courage to try new things and continue doing the things I like, whether it was modeling, streaming, pole dancing or writing articles: I had to try it all; because figuring out what my life purpose was, was essential to defeating my depression.

Just eating healthier was not going to cut it.

Some time after a break-up, moving to another apartment and quitting my job the perfect time to start anew had arrived: I started drinking more water, eating healthier food, going out for walks and then, while hanging out at a friend's place the motivation suddenly hit me: I renamed my secondary Instagram account (the one with no family members), and posted the very first self-made but very aesthetically pleasing boudoir and BDSM photos I could produce on my friends terrace and an IPhone X. I have to say these were not bad.

https:/www.instagram.com/isoyich/

(This is of course not the very first Instagram account I own nor the last one. Over the course of the year I too have learned about the censorship + do's and don'ts of Instagram's posting policies.)

With these rebranding, other changes in the relationships I had with former acquaintances had to take place; people who didn't share my interest in this kind of photography left my networking circle, leaving space for new people who either partake in content creation or enjoy the type of content I started creating.

Encourage yourself to take steps outside of your comfort zone if you feel like what you want to do is genuinely good for your well-being, even if that means that some people will not support you/will disagree with you.

Making such an Instagram account was one of the wildest things I had done in my life, and I was able to meet artists from all around the world just by taking the first step; but it was not the end of it: With the help of my SO, I started searching for platforms where I could find local photographer-model communities where I could set up my profile and connect with other photographers who would do TFP-Shootings (Trade For Prints).

About accepting help from others while working towards your goals:

Remind yourself that asking for help and accepting it is not only necessary for thriving, it is also OKAY! Other people can offer different perspectives and additional information that can be useful to the realization of your goals.

The networking site is full of photographers looking to work on several different artistic projects, and I was already on my way walking through the journey that would eventually teach me to believe in, encourage and cherish myself through photography.

What now?

I had all these requests for TFP-Shootings, and ZERO experience to go with it; but that's exactly what I was looking for: To force myself out of my comfort-zone.

Make the time to recreate yourself and see what you are capable of. Challenge yourself, be consistent.

"Where you want to go, what you want to do, where you want to succeed, what you'd like to be in order to achieve a fulfilling life. Set your goals, inform yourself about them and plan in small steps to achieving each and every one of them. Big goals require long-term commitment, consistency and a structured plan to ensure their realization."

Having these guidelines in the back of my head, I had the first, second, fifth, maybe even tenth shooting in the first year; at my own pace and taking care of my mental health.

All the amazing artistic photography projects I've participated in have helped me look back at these past few years and not only feel more confident, beautiful and fearless but also to reflect on what I have achieved and how I have progressed in the modeling industry.

Get out of the routine, change your angles, start doing fulfilling things.

Where this path is taking me, I don't know yet, but I welcome it with my arms and eyes open.

#empoweringothers #modelling #photoart #inspirational

[grimecrow]

Random Facts About My Favorite OCxCanon pairing Niac.

My OTP is a OCxCanon pairing set in the MTV Teen Wolf universe between a Jersey Devil named Nigel Leeds and Isaac Lahey. I have been rocking this pairing for a long time and just feel the urge to share some random facts about them. It's all below the read more if you wanna read random stuff about a random ship. Maybe something will make you smirk?

Height Differences: - when Nigel is in human he's six inches shorter than Isaac - Isaac loves to play that up in cute ways - in his monstrous form Nigel is a little over three feet taller than Isaac - monster form Nigel has carried Isaac under his arm on more than one occasion The Outdoors: - Nigel introduced Isaac to camping who at first was rather resistant but he falls in love with it almost immediately - sometimes he and Nigel talk about their messy fucked up family lives for hours without realizing how much time has past - at other times they just quietly enjoy the other's company - Isaac comes to the realizes he desperately needs both - it allows him to actually let loose in a way that is safe for him and others when the wolf needs to run or life has been exceptionally hard for him - Isaac developed claustrophobia due to the freezer and sleeping outdoors is some of the safest, most comfortable sleep he gets - Isaac loves sleeping outdoors so much that he doesn't sleep in the tent unless absolutely necessary sometimes enduring what he calls 'light weather' to stay outside if he's comfy - and yes camping out in the middle of nowhere does allow them to 'let loose' in other ways. Sometimes you just want to be able to not hold back without worrying about noise complaints or well-meaning welfare checks - the first couple of times they slept outside though Isaac was worried a bear could come up on them. Nigel assured him that would only happen if the bear was very sick or very stupid. If sick they were doing it a service, if stupid he'd show Isaac how to make bear bacon the next day Family: - though Nigel has had children through surrogate mothers they all celebrate Isaac on Mother's Day - Isaac apparently has a crazy 'mother bear' mode - when they find out their daughter is now hanging out with a werewolf in high school Nigel tries to warn her away because 'werewolves are nothing but trouble' to which she reminds him that Isaac is a werewolf. Isaac's response? "No, your father is right." - they end up with four children, two boys and one girl are fathered by Nigel, one boy is fathered by Isaac - the three Jersey Devil siblings are very protective of their werewolf brother given (apparently) how 'fragile' werewolves are comparatively Isaac's Career: - Isaac's love of the outdoors plus his desire to help Nigel establish his California clan of devils allowed him to find what would end up being his perfect job Park Ranger - during Nigel's post secondary studies Nigel works 12-18 hours a day, every day for a little over 2 years without complaint to ensure that Isaac has everything he needs without having to go into debt - the connections he develops in and around the National Park is what allows them to land their home at the park's edge without too much stress Misc: - yes Isaac is willing to drop a peck on Nigel's muzzle when he's in monstrous form. He loves Nigel just as much whether he's man or beast - despite his love of the outdoors and generally rustic lifestyle Isaac never stops loving fashion - Nigel tries his best to spoil Isaac in the ways he thinks Isaac will like, new fancier jacket, a trip into town for a day of shopping and 'fancy eating', that sort of thing whenever he can though life makes it not happen super often

#OC #oc x canon #canon x oc #fan fiction #fan fic writing #teen wolf #isaac lahey

[asianonymous]

I feel like I’ve written about this before but I’m not really sure. It’s about my brother’s job. Since I was 16, I’ve known I wanted to be a teacher; obviously, it didn’t come without hardships - changing from Secondary Education to Middle Years but winding up in a Primary School (which turned out for the best). I’m definitely a lot more insecure with older kids so everything worked out perfectly. I’d like to think I’m quite self-aware. I know what I want, most of the time. But my brother doesn’t, and I get that not everyone has that ability or motivation to self reflect or think about where they want to go in life; for me, it’s trying to grasp how people don’t know where they’re headed and be completely okay with it. He started off doing something related to hotel, tourism, business, hospitality for his undergrad and then a Master’s in HR. However, he’s been struggling to find a job here in Asia. All the HR jobs apparently require proficiency in speaking and typing and two languages which he doesn’t possess; or, they’re tied in with doing sales (Insurance, for example). Native-English Teaching jobs, on the other hand, pay handsomely and these teachers are often sought after. We have tutorial centres here that hire graduates with overseas degrees. I remember feeling super jealous when he found a tutoring job that paid better than mine - especially since I was the one with the Bachelor’s in Education whereas he didn’t have anything to do with Education. I guess that’s what pushed me to find a better job, one in a school, like where I am now. One of the things that will forever annoy me is people who ‘fall’ into teacher. The saying “If you can’t X, then teach,” really grinds my gears. It doesn’t help that here in Asia, people essentially worship expats who have a white face and will hire them and pay them better than local teachers, which I understand but it’s not for me to say whether it’s fair or not. I’m opposed to him being a teacher because he hasn’t had to go through what I’ve been through to get my qualifications. It baffles me that schools will hire people who haven’t done a degree as teachers. Why bother getting your qualifications then if they could pull any Tom, Dick or Harry off the streets? It’s kind of an insult to the profession and people who worked hard. I think that being an INFP, ‘authenticity’ is a really big deal to me; it’s supposed to be an honourable profession. There are some people who clearly shouldn’t be in the teaching profession, especially people who are only in it for the money. This applies to my brother as well. I guess I’ve spent my life trying to be different from him, to have my own uniqueness and distinction. I don’t like to be lumped in with him, especially given how he acts. I guess I just want to him to stay in his own lane. Maybe I’m secretly worried that he’d make a better teacher.

#blog #thoughts #journal #diary

[dourpeep]

Sprout that last fic was amazing! 10/10 blushing like a school girl as I read it. Im not sure if requests are open right now so no worry if they are not but just wondering if I could maybe ask for something almost along the same lines (them trying to work as you please them) but plot twist just as they think its safe and do finish someone walks in and catches them. (Im a meanie and like to see guys flustered and embarrassed) but Diluc Zhongli and Xiao please

aforementioned fic

Flustered men,,, that's my life blood, and Diluc, Zhongli, and Xiao? The most stoic of them all??? SIGN ME U P

Not to mention I did write that one Xiao imagine where you're doing the do outdoors-

Caught in the Act

Summary: To be fair, neither of you noticed because you were too busy... Featuring: Diluc, Xiao, and Zhongli

Contains: ((NSFW 18+)) character x reader, caught in the act, (Xiao) outdoor sex, clothed sex (Zhongli) blowjob

Fun Fact: the location for Xiao’s is a real in-game place that's easily accessible and also poorly hidden. How indecent of you, Xiao—

Diluc

The two of you have created a sort of schedule when it comes to intimacy. With the limited free time you both have, you make the most of it.

Luckily, today was one of the days where you were both at the winery with enough downtime for more than just a quick moment of privacy.

In the peace of his bedroom, you’re entangled in soft silken sheets, a leg hooked up over Diluc’s hip while he supports himself above you on his forearms.

The back of his hand brushes along your cheek, tracing your jaw before he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. Already, you’ve shed your clothing, careful to keep his unwrinkled for work later. Chest pressing to yours, he takes you, moving slow. When you mumble for him to go faster, he chuckles.

“It’s alright. We have more time today.”

You try your best to quell your desires for the man above you, but the fire in your belly aches. He gently chides you but obliges.

His thrusts grow harder, each thrust making you shift up the bed. Deep and slow, he leans over you to meet lips. Each press is flooded with unspoken words.

It’s easy to get lost in the moment when every touch sets your body aflame and the way that such a gentleman can be so gentle but utterlyimpassioned. The way his body cages you in, filling your senses with everything that he is.

“Darling—” His lips drag against yours when he speaks, an arm wrapping under you to lift your hips just a tad.

Ghosting his touch over your hip and thigh, he reaches between you to help bring you to completion, keeping the steady rhythm he’d begun to make sure you can ride out the pleasure as long as possible.

Relishing in the way you moan his name and grip his arms, he starts a quicker pace enough to make you see stars chasing his own orgasm. Beneath him, you throw your head back and cry out in a soft plea.

There’s a quiet knock at the door, loud enough that normally you’d be able to hear accompanied by a voice.

“Master Diluc, there’s someone here to see you.”

The door opens and the unfortunate maid gasps when she sees the intimate embrace, making you jump and Diluc tug the covers over you both with a swiftness you’d otherwise be impressed about.

Xiao

He works so, so very hard day in and out with battling the monsters and demons that plague the land. Similarly, your days are filled with commissions and battling for the materials you need to make your team and weapons stronger. It only makes sense that you meet him in the middle.

This time, however, you were fortunate enough to be able to convince him to help out with a treasure hoarder problem. It was a bit more difficult than usual, but nothing that the two of you paired with Xinyan and Zhongli couldn’t handle.

The area for the commission, though, was a tricky one, including two separate locations that needed to be cleared out. Zhongli is more than happy to accompany the young Rockstar to the secondary location while you and Xiao handle the other. Really, it should just be a quick thing this way.

Like you thought, it takes only a few flashes of anemo with your help before the treasure hoarders are chased out, but with the heat, you’re left sweating and tired.

“Do we have enough time to freshen up?”

The crystalline waters nearby are a godsend, cool and refreshing and—you turn to Xiao to see the way his shirt sticks to his muscles and how droplets of water stream down his arms.

So now, somewhere between Lingjiu Pass and Mt. Tiangheng, you’re hidden in a rocky alcove behind a waterfall, bodies flush together as he thrusts into you feverishly. You’ve both hastily pulled down trousers and shucked off unnecessary items adorning your outfits, left partly clothed.

The feeling of him so desperate to feel you is maddening.

Your bodies mingle, still tired and sweaty from the fighting, but you can hardly bother to care. Shifting, he hoists you up to wrap your legs around his waist and angles you to reach deeper. He hits the spot that makes you see stars and you cry out his name as you unravel.

Xiao’s pace grows sloppy with the way you squeeze around him, patience leaving with the way he’s getting close. His forehead presses against your neck when he shakily moans your name, thrusting up once more before releasing.

Breathing hard, he meets your lips for a kiss—

“I understand the appeal of partaking in activities that relieve stress, however…”

It’s unmistakable, the voice that speaks up.

Immediately, Xiao’s eyes snap open and his face explodes in color, nearly dropping you in his surprise. You’re glad that your bodies are mostly covered by the large rock you’re behind, but you doubt that Xiao would be very willing to accompany you and your team on a commission anytime soon.

Zhongli

It’s not strange to want privacy in your own home.

While Zhongli is busy with his job at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, he has ample time in the mornings and late afternoon to indulge in you. Those long hours are spent in each other’s arms, drawing every gasp and every moan from lips that seldom part.

“Zhongli, I want to make you feel good this time.”

Who was he to deny?

When your lips press to the base of his shaft, he lets out a groan. It’s deep, rumbling in his chest, and you squeeze your thighs together to help relieve a bit of the pressure. Another kiss is placed on his hip and you laugh at the way his cock twitches.

“Are you feeling impatient?”

His cheeks color, slight in afternoon light. “Perhaps.”

So you take him into your mouth, sliding your tongue along the length of him as you descend. He’s lost in the way the hot wetness of your mouth envelops him, watching you take what you can. You moan around him and his hips twitch with the vibration.

Every lick and suck has him clutching at the couch, willing his hips to stay still so that you may take your time with your ministrations. He wants to know how it feels to be entirely at your mercy, and you gladly take that in stride.

His eyes widen when you push yourself further down, your eyes squeezing as you focus on relaxing your throat and he nearly chokes in the way your lips finally meet his pelvis. He wants to tell you it’s alright, you don’t have to push yourself—but the way that you look up at him with slightly watery eyes sends a need through him.

One of his hands finds its way into your hair, keeping you pressed down against him longer. Once the feeling of you swallowing around him is bearable, he helps you draw back off, an apology on his tongue until you sink back and take him once more.

Surrendering to the feeling, Zhongli breathes your name, eyes closing as you suck at his tip. It’s a shock, coming undone just as the door to his home slams open, revealing a mop of messy red hair and bright blue eyes that settle on the sight of you kneeling between the geo Archon’s spread legs.

“Xiangsheng!”

At least the harbinger has the tact to raise a gloved hand to cover his eyes as he backs out of the doorway and closes the door with the other.

“My apologies—I’ll return later.”

#anon ask #Diluc #Xiao #Zhongli #Diluc x reader #Xiao x reader #Zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact smut #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact zhongli #smut #brainrot #genshin impact x reader

[junonreactor]

all these octopath traveler npcs greeting me like “hey! remember me? you saved my dad’s life that one time! well now i have a new problem.....” sorry buddy i have no clue who you are. it’s been a year or somethin. what did you need me to steal from that old man hurry up

#i have totally lost the thread of everything except the basics of the main character plots #and even that might be kind of unsteady #i think i was in the middle of doing something about secondary jobs? maybe? who knows #ein babbles #edit: ok after some thinking time. i don't remember a single thing about cyrus ch 2 #i think i literally just went ''haha what a funny little man'' and just. had no investment in his story thereafter. sorry dude #he's an important member of the team i just don't care about his life story you knpw #i guess i should read a summary though just in case