#UR LUCKY UR FAR AWAY AND ILL

[collisvng]

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD—

@channie-143 I HAVE BARELY BEEN BACK FOR 24 HOURS, STOP BOOPING MEEEJSJSJSJ

#➴collisvng thoughts ✨️ #mooties✨️ #IMMA KICK UR ASS #UR LUCKY UR FAR AWAY AND ILL #IMMA BITE WHEN YOU WHEN I SEE YOU #ISTG

[transmutationisms]

serious question but do you personally believe there is a way to approach psychiatry in a way that uplifts and upholds patient autonomy and wellness or is the entire trade essentially fucked haha. Btw this is an ask coming from a 3rd year med student—with a background of severe mental illness—who is considering a residency in psychiatry after receiving life-saving care in high school pertaining to said conditions. (I have peers who have been involuntarily hospitalized and treated horribly in psych wards, with approaches i patently disagree with, but was lucky not to experience. I don’t like modern american medicine’s approach to mental illness; “throw pills” at it to “make it go away” ie. a problem of overprescribing, inadequate and non-holistic approach to mental health, and i feel a lot of that can be attributed to the capitalistic framework. I also def agree with you that so much of what can be considered normal human responses to traumatic events/normal human suffering can be unnecessarily pathologized—a great example being the whole “chemical imbalances in the brain is the ONLY reason why im like this” argument that ive unfortunately fallen hard for when i was younger and am still currently dismantling within myself…and like dont even get me started on this field’s history of demonizing POC, women, LGBT, etc). Like i deeply love my psych rotations so far, and i utterly feel in my gut that this is the manner in which i would like to help people—a lot of whom are just like me—but im wondering if there is a way to reconcile these aspects in a way that one can feel morally okay participating within such an imperfect system, in ur opinion… ngghhhhhh i just want to be a good doctor to my patients…

(ps i love all ur writing and analysis on succession!! big fan mwah <333)

i don't mean to sound unduly pissy at you, specifically, but i do have to say: every single time i've talked about antipsych or broader criticism of medicine on this website, i immediately get a wave of responses like this, from doctors/nurses/psychs/students of the above, asking me to, like, reassure them that they're not doing something immoral or un-communist or whatever by having or pursuing these jobs. and it's honestly frustrating. why is it that these conversations get re-framed around this particular line of inquiry and medical ego-soothing? why is it that when i say "the medical encounter is not structured to protect patient autonomy or well-being," so many people hear something more along the lines of "doctors are mean and i wish they were nicer"? why is it that it's impossible to discuss the philosophical and structural violence of academic and clinical medicine without it becoming a referendum on the individual morality of doctors?

i'm choosing to read you in good faith because i think it's possible to re-re-frame this line of questioning to demonstrate to you the sorts of critiques and inquiries i find more interesting and more conducive to patient autonomy and liberation. so, let me pick apart a few lines of this ask.

"is the entire trade essentially fucked?"

if you're thinking of trying to 'reform' the project of medical psychology within existing infrastructures and institutions, then yeah, it's fucked. if you're still assuming that affective distress can only be 'treated' within this medical apparatus (despite, again, no psychiatric dx satisfying any pathologist's understanding of a 'disease' ie an aberration from 'normal' physiological functioning) then you're not challenging the things that actually make psychiatry violent. you're simply fantasising about making the violence nicer.

"I don’t like modern american medicine’s approach to mental illness; “throw pills” at it to “make it go away” ie. a problem of overprescribing, inadequate and non-holistic approach to mental health, and i feel a lot of that can be attributed to the capitalistic framework."

i hate when i talk about psychotropic drugs being marketed to patients using lies like the chemical imbalance myth, and then pushed on patients—including through outright force—by psychiatrists, and the discussion gets re-framed as one about 'overprescribing'. my problem is not with people taking drugs. i am, in fact, so pro-drugs that i think even the ones administered in a clinical setting sometimes have value. my issue is with, again, the provision of misleading or outright false information, the use of force and coercion to put patients on such drugs in order to force social conformity and employability, and the general model of medicine and medical psychology that assumes patients ought to be passive recipients of medical enlightenment rather than active participants in their own treatment who are given the agency to decide when and how to engage with any form of curative or meliorative intervention.

'holistic' medicine and psychiatry do not solve this problem! they are not a paradigm shift because they continue to locate expertise and epistemological authority with the credentialed physician, and to position patients as too sick, stupid, or helpless to do anything but receive and comply with the medical interventions. there are certainly psychotropic drugs that are demonstrably more harmful than others (antipsychotics, for example), and some that are demonstrably prescribed to patients who do not benefit from them and are even harmed by them. conversely, there are certainly forms of intervention besides pharmaceuticals that people may find helpful. but my general critique here is aimed less at haggling over specific methods of intervention, and more at the ideological and philosophical tenets of medicine that cause any interventions to be imposed by force or coercion on patients, then framed as being 'for their own good'. were suffering people given the information and autonomy to actually choose whether and how to engage in any kind of intervention, some might still choose drugs! my position here is not one of moralising drugs, but making the act of taking them one that is freely chosen and available as an option without relying on physician determination of a patient's interests over their own assessment of their needs and wants.

"so much of what can be considered normal human responses to traumatic events/normal human suffering can be unnecessarily pathologized"

true, but don't misunderstand me as saying that drugs or any other form of intervention should be forcibly withheld from those who do want them and are made fully aware of what risks and harms seeking them could entail. again, this would still be an authoritarian model; my critique is aimed at increasing patient autonomy, not at creating equally authoritarian and empowered doctors who just have slightly different treatment philosophies.

"dont even get me started on this field’s history of demonizing POC, women, LGBT, etc"

ok, framing this as "demonisation" tells me that you're not understanding that, again, this is a systemic and structural critique. it is certainly true that a great many doctors currently are, and have historically have been, outright racist, trans/misogynist, ableist, and so on. framing this as a problem of a well-intentioned discipline being corrupted by some assholes is getting it backwards. medicine attracts prejudiced people, not to mention strengthens and promotes these prejudices in its entire training and practice infrastructures, because of its underlying philosophical orientation toward enforcing 'normality' as defined by 18th-century statistics and 19th-century human sciences that explicitly place white, cis, able-bodied european men as the normal ideal that everyone else is inferior to or failing to live up to. doctors who really nicely tell you that you're too fat are still using bmi charts that come from the statistical anthropometry of adolphe quételet and the flawed actuarial calculations of metlife insurance. doctors who really nicely deny you access to transition surgery are still operating under a paradigm that gives the practitioner authority over expressions and embodiments of gender. the issue isn't 'demonisation', it's that medicine and psychiatry explicitly attempt to render judgments about who and what is 'normal' and therefore socially 'healthy', and enforce those standards on patients. this is not a promotion of patient well-being, but of social conformity.

"i deeply love my psych rotations so far, and i utterly feel in my gut that this is the manner in which i would like to help people"

let me ask you a few questions. you say that you like your psych rotations... but how do your patients feel about them? is their autonomy protected? are they in treatment by free choice, and free to leave any time they wish? are they treated as human beings with full self-determination? if you witnessed a situation in which a patient was coerced or forced into a certain treatment, or in which you were not sure whether they were consenting with full knowledge or freedom, would you feel empowered to intervene? or would doing so threaten your career by exposing you to anger and retaliation from your higher-ups? what higher-ups will you be exposed to as a resident, and then as a practicing physician? could you practice in a way that committed fully, 100%, to patient autonomy if you were working at someone else's practice, or in a hospital or clinic? could you, according to current medical guidelines, even if you had your own practice?

when you say "this is the manner in which i would like to help people", what do you mean by "this"? can you define your philosophy of treatment, and the relationship and power dynamic you want to have with any future patients? is it one in which you hold authority over them and see yourself as determining what's in their 'best interests', even over their own expressed wishes? have you connected with patient advocates, psych survivors (other than your friends), and radical psychiatrists and anti-psychiatrists who may espouse heterodox treatment philosophies that you could consider? do you think such philosophies are sufficient for protecting patient autonomy and well-being, or are they still models that position the physician's judgment and authority over that of the patient?

"im wondering if there is a way to reconcile these aspects in a way that one can feel morally okay participating within such an imperfect system"

and here is the crux of the problem with this entire ask. you are wondering how to sleep at night, if you are participating in a career you find morally distasteful. where, though, do your patients enter into that equation? do you worry about how they sleep at night, after having interacted with a system of social violence that may very well have traumatised them under the guise of providing help? why does your own guilty conscience worry you more than violations of your patients' bodies, minds, and basic self-determination?

i can't tell you whether your career path is morally acceptable to you. i don't think this type of guilt or self-flagellation is fruitful and i don't think it helps protect patients. i don't, frankly, have a handy roadmap sitting around for creating a new system of medicine and health care that rests on patient autonomy. affective distress is real, and is not something we should have to bear alone or with the risk of having violence inflicted upon us. what you need to ask yourself is: how does the medical model and establishment serve people experiencing such distress? how does it perpetuate violence against them? and how do you see yourself countering, or perpetuating, such violence as someone operating within this discipline? what would it mean to be a 'good' actor within a violent system, if you do indeed believe that such a thing is ontologically possible?

#sorry for LONG ASS POST #psychiatry

[sweethibiscus]

here’s me slipping into ur inbox! u don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but here’s a little request i have!

loser!ellie who’s like the notorious shit-head of your neighborhood. always playing her music too loud, you can tell she’s coming cause you’ll hear her skating, and if she sees you at the park she messes with you and tries to impress you with tricks! (falls on her ass)

ofc ill do this tysm for the req (btw ily and ur writing sm !!)

i got a little carried away but i hope this is atleast somewhat what you were envisioning <33

ellie is lowk kinda stalker ish and theres also some smut so mdni !!

loser!neighbor!ellie who made her presence known shortly after moving in when you were just about to fall asleep on a saturday when you heard and felt the bass of music and the sound of people just two houses away.

loser!neighbor!ellie who when you confront about the obnoxiously loud music and guests apologizes but her next party she makes the music louder on purpose and invites more people 100% out of spite and definitely not in hopes that you’ll scold her again.

loser!neighbor!ellie who keeps apologizing when shes confronted about it but never actually does anything about it so after your third or fourth try you just gave up and invested in some earplugs that barely work

loser!neighbor!ellie that skateboards by your house every morning while your out on your porch checking the mail or watering plants just to have an excuse to see you in your pajamas and wave at you and if shes lucky enough she’ll muster up enough courage to say a quick mornin’ to you

loser!neighbor!ellie who acts super confident but is really terrified to talk to you and thinks you would never go out with her

loser!neighbor!ellie who ‘accidentally’ memorized your daily schedule. not because she watches you leaving for work and getting home or anything she just happens to notice when you leave when you get back what you wear who your with and makes a mental note in her mind of it. shes just a concerned neighbor! who also happens to have a whole section in her journal dedicated to you and your daily activities!

loser!neighbor!ellie who one day gained enough courage to ask for your phone number, for safety purposes of course! so she can make sure your safe and not with anyone else when you dont come home at your usual time and also occasionally invite you to her parties (that you always say no too)

loser!neighbor!ellie who when she passes by your house tries to look as cool as possible by doing tricks on her skateboard that she almost always fails and gets all red and embarrassed especially when you giggle a little bit but you find it kinda cute?

loser!neighbor!ellie who when skating by your house one morning notices you left your curtains open and looks inside to find you running around in just a bra and jeans. you were probably just running late but she stood there for a good minute just shocked watching you before she snapped herself out of it and continued skating back to her house

loser!neighbor!ellie who engraved that memory of you in her brain as best as she could and masturbated to the memory of it even moaning your name as she circled her clit. that night she came the hardest shes ever cum on her own

loser!neighbor!ellie who found your instagram and stalks it daily but one day accidentally liked one of your posts from 6 months ago and a few minutes later received a screenshot of the notification of her liking it from you with a message asking her if that account was her. she said yes and threw her phone across the room cause now you definitely think shes a stalker and will never talk to her again but when she shakily grabs her phone she sees that you’ve followed her and liked her posts going as far back as a year ago!

loser!neighbor!ellie who when skating by your house the next day was stopped by you. she felt her palms get sweaty as she thought of all the things you would say to her. is it about her stalking you on insta? or did you somehow know she saw you in your bra that one morning? or were you a mind reader that somehow knew every disgusting and unholy thought shes ever had of you. she was already planning on where she was going to move to when you finally came up to her but the last thing she expected was to be asked on a date by you. she stood there taken aback for a minute and you thought you were about to be rejected when she finally said yes and nodded her head vigorously

i just love loser ellie sm i cant i need to write her more

#ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #the last of us #☆ lex ☆ #slut4els #beforeimdeceased

[whyse7vn]

DONE -

[ seokjin x reader ]

jin: 😘🥰😘😝😈

y/n: i just woke up can you give me a minute before you start being weird

jin: 😫

y/n: ew

jin: feeling very romantical rn

y/n: romantical?

jin: ur hot i could punch you

on the lips

with MY lips

y/n: you just have a way with words

jin: ikr 😍

y/n: it’s not a good way

jin: i’m choosing to ignore you

because i’m in a good mood rn

y/n: lucky me ig!

jin: the luckiest

y/n: what do you want

it’s 8 am

jin: rise and shine pretty

i saw ur insta post

y/n: ???

the one from two days ago?

jin: 2 days ago 3 days ago 1 hour ago it doesn’t matter

what matters is that you want me so bad

like so bad

i can tell

the way ur looking at me in that photo its telling me

“jin baby pls come here i need you rn 😩😫”

i can hear it

y/n: you got to lay off the crack im telling you

jin: CRACK????

ARE YOU INSANE????????/!:!

y/n: there is no logical way to explain what you’ve just said to me if you didn’t do some type of drug

jin: don’t speak to me

not in person not through text and

ESPECIALLY not through insta posts

y/n: :(

jin: don’t frown at me

y/n: why not :(

jin: you have no right to be sad in this situation

you literally accused me of doing drugs

y/n: you said my photo talked to you

i think that was a pretty fair accusation

jin: you literally should be so grateful rn i said i wanted to kiss you…

ON THE MOUTH AS WELL

and i said you were hot

ME kim seokjin said YOU were hot

PEOPLE BE SO UNGRATEFUL THESE DAYS OMG?

y/n: sorry

jin: i don’t belive you

y/n: cuz i was lying

jin: GO AWAY

y/n: i won’t

i miss you

jin: it’s too late to miss me

y/n: are you dying or something?

jin: what?

y/n: is the age isn’t it?

jin: excuse me?????

you sound like jimin rn and i’m telling you that’s a IMMEDIATE turn off

wait

you wouldn’t right

tell me you didn’t

…

you’ve been spending time with jimin

haven’t you..

y/n: he’s the bff wydm

jin: oh my god somebody shoot me

y/n: drama queen 🥱

jin: we are OVER

DONE I TELL YOU

DONE

D

O

N

E

y/n: i’m crying so many tears rn

jin: CRY HARDER

WE HAD ONE RULE IN THIS RELATIONSHIP

AND THAT RULE WAS STAY FAR FAR FAR FAR FAR FAR AWAY FROM PARK JIMIN

y/n: that is a ridiculous rule

i literally work with him?

jin: if you loved me you would of made it work

y/n: if you loved me you would be at home rn

why are you out so early?

cheating perhaps??

jin: you caught me!!!

it’s time i tell you the truth anyways…

y/n: you’ve been seeing tae behind my back haven’t you…

jin: now i know ur out of ur mind

you must be a heavy drug user

y/n: ig we both are…

jin: me and you are NOT the same

y/n: what’s that supposed to mean 😣?

jin: EXACTLY what i said

look at you

and look at me

y/n: i see no difference

we both are fucking tae?

what separates us seokjin?

lmk

jin: ARE YOU ILL?

I WOULD NEVER EVER IN MY LIFE PICK THAT THING

ITS ENOUGH IM FORCED TO STAND NEXT TO THAT FREAK OF A MAN

BUT FUCK HIM???

OMH MY GOD SHOOT ME NOW SHOOT ME NOWWWWWW

y/n: so it’s okay that i’m fucking him?

jin: like i said WE are done

IDC

do what you want

you betrayed me

i have no love left for you

y/n: good to know

jin: don’t tell me ur mad at me rn…

y/n: i’m not

jin: omg you so are

y/n: am not

jin: i love you

y/n: but we’re done?

jin: i take it back

i can’t breathe without you

y/n: ur too clingy for my liking

jin: i’ll crawl into your skin and live there

y/n: ew and ow

jin: love hurts

y/n: will you be in my skin when i make my weekly visits to tae?

jin: you are BLOCKED

…

THIS IS SO BAD PLS DONT HATE ME PLS THJS WAS A DRAFT OMGSHSHSH

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 — act I, scene ii

nonidol!hwang intak x f!reader

when summit poster boy hwang intak's car breaks down in the school parking lot, it sets off a chain of events that leads to you, someone he was perhaps always meant to find. the only problem is that the two of you are far from the ideal couple, and your peers are apt to keep that status quo.

▷ genre, chapter warnings. s2f2l, grief and mentions of death and terminal illness, classism and discrimination, forbidden romance au, minimal swearing, angst, humor

▷ word count. 2.3k

« prev · m.list · next »

a/n: there's quite a bit of texting in this one so i apologize 😭

SUMMER (RISING JUNIORS).

INTAK wasn't one to give up easily. A couple weeks after school had been dismissed for the much-anticipated summer break, he was still in town while the rest of his friends were off traveling the world with their families. His dad had left the house early, as per usual, to head to the company building for work, so he enjoyed the serenity of an empty house as he took his time rolling out of bed and making himself breakfast.

As he sat on one of the breakfast bar stools in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal before him, he pulled out his brother's phone and opened up one of the text threads. The last thing he had texted Yn was about properly working out a stain—he'd received a very (albeit amusing) passionate lecture from her about drinking or consuming anything in the car, because if he spilled anything on the seats, she would risk her own identity to come and beat him up.

He'd had a very good laugh at that.

jae's phone: bored

Not even a minute later, he received a reply.

yer a wizard yn!: why r u still using his phone?

jae's phone: well do u want someone to find your contact on *my* phone, miss secrecy?

yer a wizard yn!: fair enough

jae's phone: hey how old r u

yer a wizard yn!: wow it never occurred to u that i could just be some old pervert?

jae's phone: r u??

yer a wizard yn!: lucky for u, no

jae's phone: lucky for me? 👀

jae's phone: before u virtually threaten to hit me again

jae's phone: r u my brother's age then? u must be

yer a wizard yn!: nope

jae's phone: my age then? idk if u know my age actually

yer a wizard yn!: am i 5 years old? no

jae's phone: i will , hit u

yer a wizard yn!: LMAO

In spite of his texts, Intak laughed down at the counter and set aside the phone for a second so he could spoon some more of the sweet cereal milk into his mouth. He and this Yn person had been trading texts these past couple of weeks. All of the conversations had been brief and harmless at most; it was all just his attempts at holding a conversation while Yn deflected anything that would expose who she was. Except for this conversation and their first one, he had no inkling of her identity.

yer a wizard yn!: okay, fine yes, i'm ur age i think

yer a wizard yn!: at least that's what jae said

Intak leaned into the conversation. Do u go to the academy too?

yer a wizard yn!: my friends say that's confidential

jae's phone: ur friends knew my brother too??

yer a wizard yn!: mhm

jae's phone: okay well,,, wait tf they're READING THESE??

He could hear her laughing at him now, even if he didn't know what her laugh sounded like. Did Jaehyuk know all these people in secret? He felt like a right idiot now.

yer a wizard yn!: now they're not, i just shooed them away

yer a wizard yn!: i can't tell u explicitly, but if u figure it out on ur own per se,,,,

jae's phone: ahhhh i see

jae's phone: don't say anything if u go to the academy

jae's phone: LETS GOOOO !! 😩

yer a wizard yn!: u r so…

jae's phone: handsome, smart, funny, etc lots to choose from

yer a wizard yn!: *crickets*

jae's phone: rude 😔

jae's phone: doing anything for the summer?

yer a wizard yn!: nah just working and hanging out w friends. u?

jae's phone: ignoring my responsibilities lol

It wasn't exactly a lie. After Jaehyuk had passed away, his father had made it incredibly clear that Intak was now to step into his shoes. No more second child privileges. Plus, how could he find the energy to get away when that was all he did last summer to forget the pain of Jaehyuk leaving?

yer a wizard yn!: once when jae (well ig *you*) and his family went on vacation, he left the car w me. it was kind of weird having that thing just sitting in my garage

jae's phone: really? huh. what year was that

yer a wizard yn!: i think he said u guys were going to jeju or sumn

Ah, that must have been the last vacation Intak could remember enjoying with Jae.

jae's phone: oh yeah, i remember that holiday

jae's phone: he must've really trusted u then

yer a wizard yn!: yeah ig so… couldn’t even drive it then, so maybe that’s why lol

Minutes passed of silence in the text chain. Intak wanted to know what she was thinking on the other side of the phone, if she was even as sad as he was. He'd figured out that his brother and Yn had been really close, so she must have gone through some type of grieving process like he had? He didn't know anyone else as heartbroken as he was. His dad didn't really care, only that his number one heir was now six feet under. Intak was still bitter that his father didn't even stay after the funeral, but he supposed everyone grieved in different ways.

Intak picked up the phone again and began typing. My brother didn't trust a lot of people, he admitted. Idk why I feel the need to but thanks for being there for him.

yer a wizard yn!: wish i had been there for him better to be honest

Yeah, that one hurt. I get that. I blame myself too.

yer a wizard yn!: ur brother loved u a lot tho, intak. that's why he left u the car

yer a wizard yn!: it was something to remember him by

Intak swiped at the warm tears trailing down his face. He wished he didn't have the dumb car. He wished his brother was here instead.

yer a wizard yn!: i'm sorry if i made u upset, but just remember that he loved u so much

yer a wizard yn!: if u ever need someone to talk to who knew him as u did or close to how u did, then come find me

jae's phone: thanks yn

jae's phone: i wish he had trusted me enough to introduce me to u tbh

Somehow, she had figured out that he wasn't saying this as a joke like all the other times.

yer a wizard yn!: he did trust u. he was just trying to protect me

jae's phone: it worries me when u say that

yer a wizard yn!: it's okay just,,, forget i said anything

As if he could just forget that speaking to her could jeopardize her. He didn't even know how this could get her in trouble, if he was interpreting what she was saying correctly. If only Jae had left him a note explaining who Yn was, but he supposed it wasn't … safe to?

jae's phone: how did my brother even find u lol

Great segue, he shoveled a spoon of cereal into his mouth so he didn't have to look at his gross attempt at a subject change.

yer a wizard yn!: strangely enough, just like this

jae's phone: ??

yer a wizard yn!: he texted my number thinking it was this auto repair helpline he found online w his problems and i fixed his car haha

jae's phone: oh yo that's kinda cool tho

yer a wizard yn!: ur both really bad w cars

jae's phone: oUT OF POCKET 😭

jae's phone: wait so u go to the academy

yer a wizard yn!: bye intak

jae's phone: NOOOO WAIT COME BACCCK

It was late, that much he knew, but sleep would not bless his eyes and body and mind. Intak stared up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom with moonlight streaming through the curtains by his bedside. There were too many things in his head to even think about a peaceful night of sleep.

"You could just look her up in the yearbook," he said aloud into the darkness. "But that would be invading her privacy." And Yn had made it so very clear that she was against him finding out her identity. But she had pretty much confirmed that she went to the academy, that she was in his year, and that her name was actually Yn—

Wait. Okay, so maybe she hadn't confirmed the latter yet, but Intak assumed his brother didn't make contact names that didn't make sense.

He sighed. He wished Jaehyuk could have given him some sort of sign.

Intak reached for his phone sitting on the nightstand, but instead of going to YouTube or some other streaming service he opened up her text messages.

Just as he was about to type a greeting, she beat him to it.

yer a wizard yn!: can't sleep either?

jae's phone: yeah ig not

jae's phone: wbu?

yer a wizard yn!: yeah no same

jae's phone: i wanna ask u stuff, but i don't wanna make u uncomfortable. it's not abt u personally, it's just abt ur connection w my brother. idk really

yer a wizard yn!: this is closure for u, i get it

yer a wizard yn!: ask to ur heart's content

jae's phone: did u know… that he was sick?

There was a long pause, and Intak waited patiently while laying on his side.

yer a wizard yn!: i found out really late

yer a wizard yn!: i knew something was wrong, but he was good at hiding it

yer a wizard yn!: i didn't get to say goodbye to him tho

jae's phone: i'm sorry yn

yer a wizard yn!: don't be, it's okay

yer a wizard yn!: were ur friends close to him too?

jae's phone: they thought he was cool and they got along, but they weren't super close. ig i can say ur one of the very few people who prob grieved like i did

yer a wizard yn!: that's… god, that's really sad. everyone at school liked him tho

jae's phone: tch yeah, but yk our school's full of fake shitheads

yer a wizard yn!: yeah fs… i think ur wrong in one aspect tho

jae's phone: what's that?

yer a wizard yn!: *grieves not grieved, i think we're both still grieving

jae's phone: would u be uncomfortable if i sent a voice message?

As soon as he sent the text, he grimaced. Oh no, he was going to be faced with immediate rejection. Intak scrambled onto his stomach and elbows to get in a better position to text faster and beat the three moving dots at the bottom of the screen.

yer a wizard yn!: sure go ahead

jae's phone: WAITWAIT

He wanted to slap himself.

jae's phone: okay uhm gimme a second

jae's phone: didn't actually think u would agree

Good going, idiot. Now what?

Intak sat up against his headboard. He didn't know why he asked in the first place, but maybe he just wanted to voice his thoughts aloud for once. He licked his lips, gathered his thoughts—

"Hey—" he cleared his throat, coughing and wishing he didn't just voice crack. "Sorry, hi. I thought this was gonna be a lot less awkward, but here goes nothing." He paused, then continued on, "Do you ever… miss him? Just miss him a lot. Sometimes I watch movies and they're always like—sometimes I feel them sitting next to me or hear their laughter—and I don't. I don't feel him next to me, I don't hear his voice or his laugh, Yn. I wish I did though. I wish I could miss him like that. Do you think it would hurt less if I did?"

Intak hit the send button, then exited out of the app so he could look for the right kind of music to listen to. The room was just too quiet right now.

To his surprise, when she replied, it was not in the form of a text message, but in the form of her own voice message. He was about to hear her voice. That had to mean something right?

"Hey Intak." His heart thumped. Woah… "Yeah, I was unsure of replying in a voice message, but I thought it was fair. Don't worry; I've gaslit myself enough to feel comfortable," she laughed to herself. "That was a joke, by the way. Yeah, I laugh at my own jokes."

Intak snorted.

The sound of laughter faded slightly as she continued on though. "Yeah, I miss him a lot. I think… I think this past year, I've been trying to ignore the fact that I miss him, but I do. When I saw the convertible steaming that one day, I just couldn't stop myself from texting his number, I guess. Force of habit. I don't really feel those sensations either, but I don't think it would hurt any less if you did feel that way. I think any way you grieve is valid, really." Her voice went quiet at the end. "You're not alone, y'know?"

His cheeks were warm again and his breathing trembled. Intak hugged his knees to his chest, wondering why his head hurt when he was crying, but maybe it was because he had not cried fully in a long time. He sniffled, collecting himself to reply.

"Thanks Yn," he said, voice slightly hoarse from his crying. "You have a nice voice, by the way." Nice was an understatement. His heart was beating a little too fast at the moment.

She replied with, "Thanks Intak. You, too."

jae's phone: u said ur friends knew him too

jae's phone: were they close?

yer a wizard yn!: yeah, i'd say they had gotten to know him almost as well as i did. they hung out w us at the garage

jae's phone: like an auto repair shop?

yer a wizard yn!: yeah

jae's phone: this feels illegal to know

yer a wizard yn!: maybe u deserve a taste of the forbidden for once tho

And for some reason, that engraved itself in his head and right above his heart. He wouldn't know that from here on out, he would wear that phrase like a crown.

« prev · m.list · next »

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @sodafy @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #p1harmony x reader #hwang intak x reader #p1harmony oneshot #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #hwang intak oneshot #hwang intak imagines #hwang intak scenarios #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony angst

[momosbrainrots]

Heyo! Can I request a jinx x reader who is like one of those people who r really cold to ppl they don't know, tall with tattoos, piercings and jinx is kinda mesmerized by them and is like tryna get close to them and eventually they warm up to her and like kinda get protective of her? Like reader has an arm over her shoulder, on her waist, hugging her from behind all the time and is usually just a very affectionate person and jinx is all proud bc she made the cold person they were into a affectionate person but just for her?

I know I should(n't)

Jinx X cold !gn reader who's tall w tattoos and piercing

A/N: hihi pretty anon! Ugh love this kind of people. A meanie who in reality is a softie!? And only for her fav person!? Aw cute!! Here u have and again sorry for the wait! Love ya <33 (and yes i promise, my mind is thinking thought again so ill try to stay bc i have so many drafts aaa)

In Zaun you don't need to do a laborious search to run across threatening people, they're all over the underground city. After all, this is how one can survive or be respected around here.

Jinx was not far behind. She might look harmless but oh she was a menace. With all those bright colors, pink, blue, going around with those chunky boots and armed to the calf. Everyone knew it was better not to cross her path.

But hey! No need for that. You were lucky enough that you caught her shiny eye.

It all started as a funny game of hers.

She saw you a couple of times while she was wandering around the streets, searching for new pieces, or when she was on top of a building looking at the street beneath her. But still, it was when she saw you that one time at the Last drop that allowed her to check you out.

Tall. A bunch of piercings on your ears and all around your meanie face. Oh! And she could get a glimpse of a few parts covered in ink. You were a tough looking individual!

Of course, she knew people like you, she works with Sevika, a buff angry woman. But you had something that caught her eye.

And she made it ur problem.

Eventually, you found yourself expecting her by your side. But how could you not when she appeared out of nowhere to pester you until she was gone for no good.

At first, you tried to push her away. Giving her the cold shoulder didn't work and when you cuss her out she wouldn't bulge. Only for her to return a few days after like whatever you said meant nothing. And that pissed you off, why couldn't she just go away and leave you alone?

It took you one day in which Jinx did not go to your hunt that you noticed how jinx never seemed to be accompanied. Anyone you ask would be shocked to hear her name, either because of her reputation or because she's Silco's kid.

She was alone. And so were you.

As time passed you found yourself unable to not grow fond of her. But how could you not? It was like you needed to be there to protect her from all harm. It's not like she couldn't herself but you wanted to be there for her.

Anytime you looked down at her you swear you could feel her eyes all over you, locking eyes with you. And you couldn't help to notice how sparkly they looked. As if you were the finest of prices, the tastiest of desserts. You couldn't get a hold of why? What was that she saw?

Listening to her talk about whatever she had on her mind after a hard day started to feel good, and comfortable. You drank all of her rants and after some time you start throwing in a few comments here and there, comforting words and affirmations to let her know you were listening.

Although he also loved to ask you questions about yourself. If she could touch your piercings if they hurt if you'd let her give you one, why were you so fucking tall?!?

You tried to answer her but at first, it was a bit overwhelming. Despite this, to your luck or not sometimes you didn't need to because she would do it for you or wouldn't expect any and move on. She learned to not push too hard if she felt you were getting uncomfortable.

Oh, but when you noticed she was down... Good luck if it was someone's fault, you were immediately on your way to deal with it. You couldn't stand seeing her bright self turn blue, it made your heart ache. That may be the reasoning behind why you felt the desire to aid her, protect her, and keep her in a little candy box inside your pocket.

When you two finally got to the point of no returning the one who ended up getting surprised was Jinx. Who were you again??

So that meanie she met at the bar that night is the most cuddly and warm and caring human ever? So... Physical touch was your love language? And so was one of hers.

It started slow and steady at first. Holding hands, Jinx loves to hold your hands. A quick hug here and soft short touches there. Most of them were started by her but as you grow confident enough to let your hand linger, let your body just act...

Leaning into each other was a thing now.

You always have an arm over her shoulder or on her waist because it just felt right. It was where they belonged. And out on the streets worked as a warning to others, but overly you just wanted to be as close as you could.

Hugs from behind are your thing. And the size difference makes it look so fucking adorable. If it's not Jinx's surprise hugs, it's yours to her while she works on her trinkets. Like two puzzle pieces that are meant to fit flawlessly together. Head to head, soft, hard, easy breathing against each other, soft temple, neck kisses always exchanged.

Moments, where you two were more intimate were not rare, those happened on slow or bad days commonly. Tracing stories that could only be told through your skin. Lingering touches that could easily ignite fireworks. Talking about how you get your tattoos, and what meaning they hold. Jinx unleashes her curiosity for your whole being and memorizes where her hand leaves goosebumps.

And let me tell you, she's so proud! She broke through your walls only to find the warmest soul, the brightest of stars. Just to her and she wouldn't want it another way.

Because that meant that she got you all to herself.

Thank you for reading! Have a nice day!

#jinx imagines #jinx imagine #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx #arcane imagine #arcane jinx #arcane headcanons #arcane imagines #jinxarcane #jinx league of legends #jinx lol

[princesssmars]

Hey can you make a monet de haan smut from gossip girl maybe a monet x fem reader and like monet gives reader a lot of gifts and then then smut

everything she wants

a monet de haan x reader

it's your birthday, and monet decides to make it extra special for you.

wc : 2.375

contains : fluff, most likely badly first-time written smut for someone who reads it all day. if ur cringing reading it im cringing writing it we'll suffer together <3 so yes fxf smut, oral with reader receiving.

a/n : ive never written like. actual smut so if this is bad im so sorry but thanks for the request lets do this gays. if savannah or the cast see my fics ill eat a battery.

.

when it came to you, monet was infatuated. she wouldn't say it out loud, minus the times some idiotic man thought he had a chance and tried to flirt with you, but everyone could tell.

.

.

they saw it in the way she defended you like her life depended on it, in the way she look at you when talking like you hung the moon and stars in the sky. she was the queen of constance and you were her consort.

so when the day of your birthday rolls around, you should have known she wouldn't hold back.

your day starts with the sweetest good morning text youve ever seen, sent to you from your one and only. monet wasnt one to show her affection through pretty words, but you could tell she tried just for you and that made it pull at your heart strings even more.

after eating a lovely breakfast and a giddy ride to school, you step out of your car with a farewell to your driver before seeing nearly a quarter of the school is still outside, flocking around something parked on the street. getting closer, you almost can't believe what you're seeing.

its a pop-up version of gâterie, your favorite place to go for the best pastries. but as far as you knew they only had locations available in france, so how was there...

"i found out they were deciding to open a pop up in the city and made some calls for their grand opening to be here." monet's smooth voice in your ear pops up from beside you, sending brief shivers down your spine. she wraps an arm around your waist before leading you forward, casually showing dominance like she loved to do.

she guided you up to the pop up, pushing and shoving other students out of your way, finally getting to the front of the line and monet getting your favorite pastry and drink before you could even process it. when you looked at her she just smiled and pulled you closer in to her.

"today's your birthday which means i don't want you to worry your pretty little head about anything, m'kay? now get your stuff so we can hurry to our seats, im already sick of standing near these lowlives and if that freshman keeps staring at us it's gonna ruin my good mood," she tells you, smiling bigger when you giggle at her meanness.

monet stuck true to her word the entire duration of the school day, making sure you didnt have to stress about anything. she tried to goad you into skipping with her to the spa so you didnt have to worry about your schoolwork, but stopped when you reminded her that not everyone's parents could snap their fingers and change their grades. you were lucky she liked it when you could go toe to toe with her bitchiness.

after school ended, she quickly whisked luna and you into her car without telling you where you three were headed, but by the look on her face, you knew it was somewhere good.

the car stops and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you look out of the window and see your favorite spa that you and the girls visit regularly. this was exactly what you needed after all the stress from the drama at school.

after a simple mani-pedi and a thorough massage, you walk into the lounging area where all the guests go after their stay and see monet hurriedly whispering something into lunas ear who then nods and walks away, holding her phone up to her ear and getting into what you can tell must be a passionate conversation.

monet looks pissed off until she sees you, putting on a slightly concerning but nevertheless welcoming smile as she wraps her arms around your waist and kisses you on both of your cheeks. which she always does when shes trying to distract you from something. hm.

"what are you hiding, sweetheart?" you question, nearly giggling when she smiles at your cheesy yet cute pet name for her.

"i despise when you call me that. and its nothing, just dealing with some morons for this school project im doing." her answer comes out smoothly, but you still feel slightly suspicious. youre confused why shed make luna go outside to take care of her presumably annoying classmates, but you decided not to worry about it too much.

after the spa, monet takes you to a high end boutique youve been checking the website for religiously to see when you could book an appointment. your look of shock and happiness is all monet wanted at this moment, pretending to be nonchalant when you turned towards her.

"dont give me that look. just buy and put on something pretty, ok? hurry up."

not wasting any time, you quicky flutter over to all of the clothes you see that catch your eyes: dresses, skirts, pantsuits. its a short search until you finally find the one outfit you like most, the one thats just perfect for you.

trying it on, you leave the dressing room to see monet sitting on the stool putside the curtain hurriedly putting away her phone, bringing back that suspicion you felt earlier. you dont get the chance to ask her what she was up to before she takes your arm and spins you, thoroughly observing the outfit you picked.

"if theres one thing i love about you its definitely your great sense of style." she tells, bringing her hands to your face and staring at you with that look that makes your heart flutter. "and your personality and all that, of course."

after checking out some more stuff you brought to try on, (and maybe making out for a few minutes but thats neither here nor there, also monet insisting you keep the outfit you liked most on), you get to the register and once hearing the price go to pull out your card before you hear a beep and whip your head to see monet smiling at you and putting hers away. you dont even get to comment before she grabs your bags and leads you back to the car.

a while into the drive, monet pulls out a blindfold from her bag and turns towards you. you try not to let the not so safe for work thoughts run through your head but by monets scoff and roll of eyes you can tell your reaction gave you away. you dont bother asking what its for, knowing she wont tell you anyway. you willingly put it on.

the car rolls to a stop and you feel monets smooth hands guide you out of the car and into the mystery building. its a short walk until she lets go of you for a moment, clearly opening a larget set of doors before leading you in further.

she moves behind you, pressing her body behind yours and slowly taking the blindfold off. the room she's taken you to is nearly pitch black, save for some lights on the far walls. your eyes are just starting to adjust when the lights turn on and your hit with a chorus of "SURPRISE!"

you're almost in a state of shock as you look around you, seeing a large crowd of your family, friends, and more standing and smiling at you. taking in the rest of your surroundings, you have to nearly stop yourself from jumping up and down, seeing that the place of your surprise party is the jane hotel, one of your favorite ballroom party locations.

"i'm gonna take your silence as one of pure happiness and adoration for your girlfriend who planned all of this for you." monet whispers, moving to your side and putting her hand behind your back to lead you forward to everyone else. "go say hi to to everybody, ill catch up with you later." and before you can even get a word in julien nearly flies into your arms, squeezing you near to death and telling you "happy birthday!" over and over.

the rest of the night is great, filled with drinks and food and dancing and reminiscing over old memories. its fun and sweet, but every so often youll catch monets eye, the girl seemingly innocently smiling at you to anyone else but you can tell when shes plotting, and it fills you with a sense of excitement.

eventually, the party comes to a close, guests saying goodbye and extra "happy birthdays" for good measure. monet comes up to you, taking your hand and wordlessly leading you out of the ballroom to her car waiting outside. after a few minutes of driving you recognize that its heading to your girlfriend's home.

"do you have another surprise for me?" you ask, smiling and leaning your head on her shoulder and looking up at her. every time you look at her it almost surprises you how damn pretty she is.

"it wouldnt be a surprise if i told you what it was, now would it?" she answers, bring her hand up to move some of your hair out of your face and resting it on your cheek. "dont worry. i promise youll love it."

"i know ill love it just like everything else today. thank you, by the way. it was sweet." you remove her hand from your face and bring it to your lips, giving it a few small pecks that she tries to act like doesn't affect her but you can see right past it.

"no need to thank me. you deserved all of it and it's my job as your amazing girlfriend to make it all happen." she hugs you closer to her, settling into her car seat as you do the same.

just when you feel yourself drifting off monet tugs you from your seat and up the stairs to her home, your mind drifting in between a state of semiconsciousness when you feel your bottom hit the familar soft padding of her bed, her sigh and tugging at your shoes bringing a light smile to your face.

"soooo wheres my last surprise of the evening?" your voice is soft, perfectly content with just sitting here in this moment with her.

"well, i might have worded it wrong. less a surprise ad more of a...reward." the tone of her voice and the feeling of her hands trailing up the sides of your thighs knocks the sleep straight from your brain. your eyes slowly open and follow to hers, the warm brown staring into you so intensely it feels like she can see into your soul.

“and what exactly am I being rewarded for?” you question, the words leaving your throat in a whisper.

she moves her body closer to yours, pushing you onto the bed and hovering over you. “because you're the best…girlfriend…in the world…and I want to show you how much i care about you.” she praises you into your skin, taking breaks between words to press a line of kisses up your throat until eventually, her lips meet yours.

there was nothing better in the world than monet’s kisses when she wanted you, they were just as intense as she was, and the feeling of the both of you combined lingered on your lips for hours after.

you feel like you're on cloud nine as she moves quickly yet softly, removing both of your clothing and pushing you farther up the bed as she kisses down your body. she presses harsh ones and teasing bites on your thighs, knowing how much you loved and hated it when she teased you. she smiled to herself when you started to squirm, deciding to stop teasing and give you what you want. and the sound of a ragged gasp leaving your lips when she connects hers to your core is one of her favorite sounds in the world.

she decides not to tease you for the rest of the night and you are all the better for it. the pleasure brought from her mouth and tongue combined with the comfort of your surroundings and mental state makes it feel like this is the best head you've ever gotten. granted you feel like that every time she does this.

she does everything she knows will drive you crazy, circling her tongue around your center, pushing it inside you along with using her fingers. it's slow but manages to hit you harder than anything else possible.

"monet..please, please i need to cum, don't tease." you moan, struggling to find the words with the constant attack on your sex.

monet just hums, continuing her attack on your cunt as she rakes her hands down your thighs, enjoying as you twitch and jerk your hips. "anything you want, baby."

the next few moments pass by in what feels like the longest minute of your life. she increases the speed of her tongue pressing into you and her fingers circling your clit in such a short span it causes your orgasm to hit you like a freight train, your hips raising off the bed and crying out "monet!" and "oh god, yes!" on repeat.

she continues her actions throughout it, keeping the same pace and motions until you start to flinch away from her and push her head. she gives your clit one last hard kiss before moving up to your face, kissing both of your cheeks before giving you another heated kiss.

"when you said 'a reward' you really weren't kidding," you joke, laughing when she rolls her eyes at you. "seriously, thank you. for everything you did for me today. it means the world to me."

the genuine smile on her face warms your heart, your hand coming up to her cheek to hold her in place and admire her. you press another kiss to her lips, this one being tender and slow compared to the ones earlier.

"mmm don't thank me yet," she pulls away from the kiss and sits in your lap, smoothing her hands up and down your arms. "we still aren't finished. tonight im gonna show you how much you mean to me, over and over and over."

happy fucking birthday to you.

.

.

.

i got this ask idek when and it took me so long to finish that now the shows cancelled im actually crying. but yeah this was my first time writing smut and to be honest. dont know how yall do it. but if you read hope this didnt make you wanna throw up <3

#monet de haan x reader #monet de haan #monet x reader #gossip girl reboot x reader #gossip girl x reader #gossip girl revival #gossip girl #gossip girl reboot #gossip girl 2021 #julien calloway #luna la #ggrb #gghbo #monet de haan smut

[judjira]

hello i would like to be devastated is dahyun involved is there romance is there friendship who else is there give me all ur thoughts thanks

(TW: mentions of toxic relationship, dark themes and medical torture)

IT IS DARK

it is going to be a dark fic, like as dark as i can possibly make it, like little to no wholesome or fluffy moments, i want to make it as twisted as possible, so yes many toxic relationships and morally dubious decisions

as for the characters i havent rly decided on who exactly, BUT i do have four dynamics that i want to explore that i'll list here:

asylum director/new patient: ok so this dynamic is basically, a new patient has been entered into the asylum, and they've been wrongfully convicted of a crime. to get out of it, they've pled insanity, even though they are fully sane. this has unfortunately attracted the attention of the asylum director, who is an obssessive, unstable, and sadistic person who's taken a liking to this patient, and will NOT allow them to leave. so yes very reversal of dynamics, this is a DARK pairing, bc it will def involve medical torture to "cure" or "condition" the new patient, PLUS very intense stockholm syndrome. this is NOT gonna be a happy go-lucky relationship guys, if anything, this is probably the worst dynamic among the four in terms of healthy relationships. (i am leaning towards sahyo or minayeon for this pairing idk it works really well)

new nurse/oldest patient: so this will probably be the focus of the fic, if i dont plan on releasing solo fics for the other pairings HAHA. basically a new nurse and caretaker has been hired to take care of the asylum's oldest patient, a supposedly deranged individual who can't be "cured". but upon the nurse's observations, this patient is kind and polite, and remarkably sweet to her. but obviously there is more to them than meets the eye. this pairing is less toxic than the first but still ill-advised because it involves the corruption of innocence and morality, as the nurse falls deeper and deeper for the patient. (looking at dajeong, minayeon, or motzu for this one, its definitely a younger to older dynamic, younger nurse and older patient)

established doctor/asylum orderly or guard: so this relationship is basically a couple that goes down the rabbit hole. an established relationship, the doctor is the pride and joy of the asylum for "curing" so many patients. what the people don't know is what the doctor does to "cure" people. enter the asylum orderly/guard, who carries out all of their "operations" and "sessions" through very violent means. it's a question of how far they'll go to succeed and whether love triumphs morals. yes this is toxic, but these two truly do love each other, and they're too far in deep to stop now. (this is probably dajeong or motzu. a charismatic doctor and a stoic orderly)

asylum psychiatrist/asylum janitor: lastly, the simplest and probably healthiest, but still not that healthy, relationship. the asylum psychiatrist is an old, jaded soul who works late nights at the asylum to get all their paperwork done. the janitor of the night shift always encounters this doctor late nights, and they walk home together. the janitor is just a simple person who likes the psychiatrist, but the psychiatrist hides many dark secrets that might turn the janitor away. yep this is very simple and very unlike the others at first glance, but the psychiatrist has seen many things and done many things to get such a comfortable position. (this one might either be motzu or minayeon, older janitor and younger doctor)

so yeah ! these are the pairings i wanna explore. i imagine this as a single fic focusing on the new nurse and oldest patient, but who knows, yknow !

#ask #lmao this was a lot

[doomh3ad]

hi mutual!! its @tuliptyper !! (following through my smelly main) i want to request something doomhead related but my brain was replaced with a rock when i was 5 so...maybe could i please have any random headcanons you have about him? since not much is said abt his identity or backstory, do you have any thoughts on him? sorry its so stupid ill have a more interesting rq later i promise 😭

take ur time and thank u for writing abt my new husband fave you write him (and many others) SO WELL! 💗💗

it's not stupid at all !! thank u sm for requesting and giving me an excuse to ramble about him <3 and thank u omg i'm glad u think i write him well 🥺

content warning for mentions of alcohol + drugs

-i love the thought that he's an actor (pretty small time, maybe hasn't got his big break yet) outside of 31. he's got the dramatic flair of a man of the theatre and he'd have an amazing stage presence. his shakespearean monologues are to die for. he definitely steals makeup from whatever set he's on. i also love the idea of him kind of being a surrogate dad to a few upcoming teenage actors? he pretends they annoy him but really they're the lucky few he can stand to be around.

-he kinda feels like he's from a small town with not many prospects, maybe from a fairly religious background which would be interesting with the devil tattoo on his back. i feel like he's got a number of small tattoos as well, representing various stages of his life, such as an innocuous one for him joining 31 and his first or most memorable kill. if he has family still living, he doesn't talk to them.

-i think he's been in the game ever since its conception, and he's always been a key player. if father murder and the sisters want something done right, they call him. he mentions that he wasn't supposed to be working that year which makes me think it's on a schedule which is so funny to me? one of the other heads calling him up like hey could you take my shift this year my great aunt's uncle's son's cat's pet mouse died :(

-outside of the game, he'd have some shitty apartment in the worst part of town. he's barely in it, spending most of his time in the bar nearby or picking up some woman. he lives from high to high, searching for anything like the thrill he's only ever found in the hunt, the killing. and now i actually feel so sad. it's ok because all he needs is a big fan of his to fix him (or make him worse) <3

-suspiciously good at card games. he's not even cheating he's just so good, don't ever play poker or blackjack with him because you'll lose. also amazing at darts, but he's had a lot of practise.

-he makes a lot of money from 31, but it's hard to spend it inconspicuously, so he goes on a number of road trips to spend the money at towns so far away they'd never remember he was there.

- likes to get high and just relax out in the open, listening to the radio. he has the best taste in music but he's also probably so smug about it. if it were 2022 i would give him the aux and then immediately regret it.

#thank u sm for this request bc <333 #slasher x reader #horror #slasher #slasher fic #doomhead #imelda's writing #rob zombie #rob zombie's 31 #rob zombie 31 #rob zombie movies #doomhead 31 #31 #31 rz #rz's 31 #horror movie #doomhead headcanons

[horce-divorce]

is there any way to fix your mals?

surgery :/ it's hard to find a competent MALS surgeon tho. the place that diagnosed me sucks & basically seem to be under the impression that you can just kinda live like this, which uhh like. absolutely not. its a terrifying and huge surgery, but tbh the idea of leaving it untreated is so much more terrifying that it's a non question.

so like anywayyyy i need to personally take my recent test results and talk to a doctor who actually knows MALS to get surgery rolling... and i am working on that... there's doctor/surgeon info in some of the groups i joined i just... am so tired and weak and brain foggy fucked up all the time right now. i get winded having a normal conversation. i can barely handle my routine stuff, let alone really important phone calls.

im gonna have to go out of state both for my 2nd opinion and for the surgery too, which i dread. it's already SO much work dealing w my doctors in state who are all 2hrs away lol like i wanna cry just thinking about it. if im lucky maybe ill only have to go as far as chicago for this. it kind of all just A Lot when I barely even have the strength to digest like 500cals worth of food in a day. hard to formulate sentences and like be an advocate for yourself and talk insurance when it feels like satans making balloon animals out of ur guts

#me #ask #anon #mals

[fortheloveofwonderland]

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

[eternallyhyucks]

pretty boy | choi beomgyu

pairing: bf! beomgyu x gn! s/o

word count: 886

genre/warnings: fluff, none

summary: in which you do beomgyu’s makeup !!

𖤐 ྀ

while waiting for beomgyu to come over, you get all of your makeup ready so that you’ll quickly be able to turn your already beautiful boyfriend into an even more beautiful one.

as you begin to laugh at the thought of his face when he finds out whats happening tonight, you hear a knock at your door.

opening it, you see a smiling boy who immediately embraces you with a warm hug. he notices your extra wide smile and smugly says, “i know youre obsessed with me, but you dont have to show how excited you are, it’s getting a little creepy, you know😩💪”

“oh dont worry, it’s not that, but soon youre gonna wish that that was the actual reason behind my happiness today.” you say with an evil grin on your face.

you drag him to the couch in your living room and sit him down. “stay here, i need to go get something.” following your words, he stares at you confused as you sprint out of the room.

running back in with your hands now occupied with all of your makeup products, you say, “mister beomgyu, it’s your lucky day because today, im doing your makeup!!”

“no. no, you are most definitely not.”

frowning, you stand in front of him. “why not😠😠 you’d look EXTRA pretty gyu. dont you wanna look even prettier than you do now??”

“i like to think that i am just the right amount of pretty as i am, y/n”

“but BEOMGYUUUUUUU☹️☹️☹️☹️” you whine, knowing full well that he always gives into your wants when you act this way.

“ugh i know youre acting like this bc you know i cant resist, but im only agreeing bc youre saying youre gonna make me look even prettier than right now, which, may i add, i dont think is humanely possible🙄”

“trust me, it’s possible” you say laughing.

sitting yourself down on a seat in front of him, you position beomgyu’s head so you can properly apply all of the products on his smooth skin.

after about 15 minutes, you finally got to his eyes. “beomgyu, if u dont stop moving i swear to god im literally gonna tie you onto this seat”

“but your taking so loooooonnnnnnggggg” he complains. “im almost done, please wait JUST a little longer?”

“ugh fine, only bc youre cute”

contemplating whether you want to do his eyeliner or not, you decide to go for it.

“okay im gonna do your eyeliner, this is the last step.” you say getting off of your seat.

“wait if u havent done it yet, then why are you getting up??”

“i have to get closer to your face so i can do it properly, now move ur hands so i can sit.”

you sit next to him on the couch, trying to get a feel of how youre going to start the process of putting the eyeliner on nicely, but quickly realize that you arent close enough to his face.

embarassed, you say “uhh so i dont think we should do the eyeliner lol”

“what why?? i actually wanna do it now tho!!”

“no no it’s okay, i dont think it’ll go with the look”

“you are an insanely terrible liar”

“ugh fine, im still not close enough to ur stupid face”

“okay first of all, my face is far from stupid, ESPECIALLY now. & second, just sit on my lap?? it’s not that difficult.”

(author’s note— y/n rn:🧍‍♀️)

“fym ‘sit on your lap’ i dont want to”

“yes you do” he says pulling you onto his lap.

with your faces now less than an inch apart, you feel your cheeks turning red, but try to focus on only the top portion of his face.

before you could even draw the first line on his eyelid, beomgyu gives you a light peck on the lips and says, “sorry, i had to okay🤷‍♂️ it’s not my fault they were there”

“it literally is ur fault, but anyways,, stop distracting me and let me finish😠”

“ok fine ill stop being the love of ur life JUST until ur done. ugh,, the things i do for you🙄”

rolling your eyes, you concentrate on making sure the lines you drew on his eyelids were straight and the way you wanted them to look. after finishing one eye, you move away from his face and examine your work. “wow im so good”

“are you really though? the only way to find out the truth is when i get to see the final product” rolling your eyes for what felt like the 50th time in the past hour, you start on his other eye.

after about 10 more minutes, you back away from his face once more and sigh. “finally” you grab a mirror from beside you turn it towards yourself.

“you ready?”

“yes yes yes”

you turn the mirror, so it faced beomgyu and his jaw drops, “omg wait i look even beter than usual wtf”

“i literally told u this”

“hm i dont seem to recall🤔”

laughing, you begin to get off of his lap when he pulls u back. “what-“ he leans in and slowly kisses you, catching you by surprise. steadily pulling away, he presses his forehead onto yours.

“i love u”

smiling, you say, “i love u too pretty boy”

©eternallyhyucks

#beomgyu & the eyeliner concept has been stuck in my brain for months #gasp two posts in one day😱 #txt imagines #txt scenarios #choi beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu #beomgyu scenarios #txt #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #eternallyhyucks

[t4tbruharvey]

hmhmmmm what you said in that reply "i think if reeves did include him and made it poto inspired i would love to see it be in a way that explores his underlying issues and where they come from (fucking. the world showed no compassion to me!!!) instead of just going 'he sucks' as they did in the dark knight" ? god yeah absolutely! Which is part of why I hope that if Harvey shows up in the sequel - or maybe he shows up in the Penguin spin off show first? - that he's just... Harvey for that. Not TwoFace yet, just Harvey. And that they let him and Bruce develop an actual friendship before the whole acid/burns/whatever they're gonna go for this time thing happens (also they should keep up the 'everyone calls Bruce/Batman by pet names' thing they had going in this movie and have Harvey call him stuff like that too) Because that's one of my biggest gripes with Harvey in TDK, that they just rushed through his storyline without building up a proper connection with Bruce/Batman and the audience first - hell him and Bruce didn't even seem to be friends, they were more like...coworkers at most, they didn't even seem to particularly like each other and that takes away so much from the whole tragedy of Harvey being 'Gotham's white knight that fell to darkness' and of Bruce having to fight a man that was his friend once while still seeing that friend in him despite of what he has become, because instead of him being a character that the audience already knows and got endeared to and someone that clearly means a lot to Bruce he was just...a random lawyer that honestly was kind of a prick even before he was a villain (and he only was a villain for like, a day anyways before dying so what was that even for). And then the thing you mentioned about Harvey masking his mental illness since he was a child to seem good enough and present himself as this perfect guy? If the second movie is gonna be about Bruce having to learn how to be 'public figure Bruce Wayne' then hmmmm the parallels that could be made between him and Harvey in that regard? Perfect. Both of them having to hide their true selves (and especially their mental illness and how it affects them) from the world in an attempt to be seen as good and presentable and perfect? Bruce not having figured out how to do that yet while Harvey has been keeping that up since childhood? Maybe even Bruce learning from Harvey's example how damaging forcing yourself to always seem perfect can be so he decides that actually trying to be something he's not (a happy go lucky playboy or a perfect public figure) to please other people isn't actually a good idea and in the end he finds a middle ground between being a public figure and being true to himself? Mirroring how in the first film he realized that Batman has to be hope not vengeance but this time it's the Bruce part that gets a realization like this, with Harvey being Bruce's foil this time? And if him and Harvey get to have a real friendship in this then it even could be the start of Bruce becoming the kind of Batman that has compassion even for his villains and tries to help them instead of just punishing them, because Harvey would be a villain that he knows once was good but spiraled and needs help, rather than some inherently evil monster....Hmmm a lot of thoughts to think.

ANON IM OBSESSED WITH YOU come off anon we can be best friends. you are the smartest person ALIVE

ok ok gonna respond to this in parts as i understood them so number one YEAH ur so right that harvey is unlikeable in tdk i fucking HATED him on my first watch. i think by not letting him and bruce get along, it makes the film a lot funnier if you don't respect it as a film (which i don't), but also loses out on the message it's trying to get across AND misses the opportunity for the tragedy and you know why? because rachel is harvey :-) i'm not kidding here as far as i'm aware they were GOING to have harvey be in the first movie but he was replaced with rachel (childhood friend? belief in the justice system? lawyer? that's fucking harvey idk who rachel dawes is)

"Both of them having to hide their true selves (and especially their mental illness and how it affects them) from the world in an attempt to be seen as good and presentable and perfect? Bruce not having figured out how to do that yet while Harvey has been keeping that up since childhood?" YEAH LEGITIMATELY i think this bruce is the perfect time to explore that aspect of both of their characters bc like literally it should be part of the thesis of writing harvey. i don't care abt the coin or the duality like beyond set dressing bc the underlying issues and the commentary on projecting a persona to the world and then giving up is what makes him a good fucking foil for bruce like. there's a comic where bruce says he can see what he might have been in harvey because the only thing that makes them different is that bruce still has hope!!! he still thinks things can change!!!

AND ALSO like they should absolutely be friends first they can postpone twoface until film 3 i don't care i think that by letting bruce have a close attachment (who stays!!) who has a similar approach to him but also who opposed him on issues of like legality and fixing the system (which would be continuity from the first film) would be SO SO important bc part of harvey as a narrative device is the understanding that the system CAN'T be fixed and that him going through it is proof that it doesn't work and attracts people who want power, even if he has good intentions. and like again i am going to be thinking about the difference in their public personas for DAYS because it would be sooooo fucking tragic if harvey goes down AS brucie is perfected as an image

#this isn't even getting into dick bc that would require me talking abt transness #anon. i love you. i feel like the prince in cinderella who are you!!!

[pillage-and-lute]

Idk if ur taking promos but here ya go

It takes Geralt “Three Braincells” of Rivia a handful of decades to realize Jaksier isn’t mortal

Hi Anon! 

Here we go, its a plague fic technically, but its happy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’re in some shitty little cottage and Geralt has a headache.

It’s actually a very nice, clean cottage, well kept and, according to Jaskier, idyllic. The issue is that they’d gone to the coast, an annual tradition for them, but a plague had struck the countryside and everyone had been ordered to stay at home.

Naturally, Geralt didn’t have to worry about falling ill himself, and Jaskier was a very healthy young man who never seemed to have so much as a sniffle. The issue was that Geralt couldn’t imagine anything more awful than spreading the illness to another village.

Mostly so far people seemed to be recovering, and a message from Yennefer said that she and her peers were searching frantically for a cure. There had been deaths though. Mostly the elderly or the poorly, but tragedies all around. In poor areas, where many people slept all in one room, whole families caught it within the day. 

So Geralt and Jaskier had been holed up in the little cottage by the sea for two months now. Geralt was going stir crazy. He mostly rode Roach or went fishing and hunting, dropping the occasional cleaned fish or leg of venison at poorer houses in the little fishing village. Still. He wanted to be on the Path.

Jaskier was writing a book, prose rather than poetry, and so far it was all about love and mystery and betrayal. It seemed rather fantastical to Geralt, but Jaskier insisted that it was what people wanted to read, and who would know better than he. 

Tonight it was raining, and after supper as the light grew so dim Geralt sat in front of the fire, slowly losing his mind to cabin fever.

“Remember the last plague?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt did. Perhaps ten years after Jaskier had joined him. It had been awful, but Jaskier and he had stayed well away from that side of the Continent. 

“A tragedy,” Geralt said.

“Yes.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Jaskier said, “strange to think it’s been fifty years since then.”

Geralt did some quick mental calculations. 

“Fifty?” But yes, fifty years since the last plague, and sixty since meeting Jaskier. So why was his face still the one he’d worn at twenty. 

“What are you?” Geralt asked it calmly. Even he could see that taking six decades to figure this out was slow.

“Dear heart, did you only now get it?”

“Hmmm.”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier said, not unkindly, sitting down beside him. “I thought you’d figured it out ages ago.”

“Hmmm,” and then, feeling that wasn’t sufficient, “No.”

“I’m half-elven, dear heart.”

“Ah.”

“Sixty years, Geralt. Really. I had a bet going with Yennefer that you just didn’t think it was worth talking about. I’m going to have to pay for a new dress for her.”

Geralt said nothing. 

Jaskier chuckled, then reached down and lightly tugged a lock of snowy hair.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

[cloudy-dayys]

obsessed w ur clef headcanons. do u have any more u can share? (luv ur art btw <333)

i would kill everyone on this planet for you and then myself tysm 💙💙

more clef headcanons (i will not be referencing 4231 in any of my clef posts just because that is very triggering for me, instead im gonna say he and 166's mom met one day when clef was in his late 20s, shit happened (ya know, they fucked), and boom he had to go and kill her and take 166)

#

· he was never really a child or teen, he was just a monster that happened to break into the foundation's reality one day (i say this bc i cant really imagine him as a child or teen, he's more monster than human and we may never know if he was a normal human that adopted these powers or came from smth else)

· he is both a reality bender and anchor, more so using his bending powers more

· he has many forms, whether the 'human' one is his true one or not is still a mystery, seeing as those he may not be showing his true capabilities or if he has another twisted form that is a lot more powerful

· he may be a rival of kondraki and they hate each other's guts, but he still respects him a lot. clef even met draven (kondraki's son) and admires how konny is a good dad, so he only gives kondraki a hard time and doesn't actually dislike him (clef 🤝 kondraki: good dads and clef finds it cute)

· more than anything, he wants to take meri out on a dad and daughter day. go to the movies, the mall, buy her anything she likes, etcetc. he thinks she deserves to be spoiled rotten (and she does!!)

· but he really dislikes how his daughter is super christian, so if she ever finds out he may be the devil or even states he could be anything satanic or sinful, it wont be pretty on her side

· his face isnt that comprehendible until u personally get closer to him. if ur a complete stranger to him, its impossible to directly look at his face without some sort of problem. it'll seem like static or as if nothing is there, and itll make u want to look away since its too much for ur brain to handle (can make people have headaches or their eyes sore). if ur a pal or a well known enemy of his, you'll see some features like his sharp and terrifying grin, and sometimes his 3rd eye (which will make anybody be in distress)

· he, surprisingly, has a great voice. what makes up for his lack of face or any horrifying features is his voice. sometimes you'll hear him hum a melody or quietly sing a song in his office, he sings more calming songs than anything energetic. if ur lucky enough he'll hop his ukulele out and start singing a wonderful and peaceful song

· he loves guns, but not in a weird way. back to my first headcanon, once he entered this reality and had a somewhat stable form, the minute he found out theres metal shiny things you can hold that make loud kaboom sounds and have many varieties hes like "holy shit!?!? that is so cool!!!!!!!" and its really his comfort item. he usually goes to any open range and practices bc it is a great distraction and he loves holdin em (like a stim!). he cleans em regularly, like a hobby of some sorts

· he's made his own songs before, but he keeps em in private. he may sing em for his daughter though!

· hes more in touch with anomalous beings then regular humans, cause every anomaly thats been locked up by the foundation can relate on something

· "hm. this small anomalous child has no (good) parental figure in their life? well that is clearly my child now. i am their new dad"

· he is very intelligent, you can never prank, trick, or pull any game on him. he can read gestures and cues very easily, and can pick up any weird vibes or feelins within his area

· hes definitely an anarchist, i dont make the rules

· he sometimes wishes he can live a normal life ina suburb home with an amazing s/o and his beautiful daughter and they live happily ever after. then he proceeds with "well where the hell is the fun in that?"

· he has yet to comprehend human emotions, mental illnesses or neurodivergency, he may be able to trick and mess with someone in their head, but being able to fully comprehend human feelings and such is far out of his abilities. maybe one day though

· mess with his friends or family? hes already at ur house bud. there's no saving ur miserable life now

· the infamous 'dr clef can't be affected by anomalous things or properties' still holds very true. he can be affected by 166's powers tho!

· he speaks 4-ish other languages: old greek/latin, german and french. he can gladly try and take up more languages tho, they amaze him!

#

i have more but i dont want to make this too long and borin for others lol

#ask #tanner talks #scp #dr clef #alto clef

[combeauferre]

pressure like a drip, drip, drip

rated g, les miserables, 1.9k words

Combeferre has been piling on the work and maybe they need a break, but they can't quite figure that out on their own.

read on ao3

It doesn’t happen all at once. It’s like the tap-tap of a chisel, slowly eating away at them. They don’t even notice it at first. By the time it’s become apparent, it’s too late. There’s been a shovel in their hand far too long, and they haven’t brought a ladder.

Ferre’s phone rings beside them as they furiously type out the final line of their essay conclusion. It’s messy and far from their best work, but they comfort themselves in the knowledge that it’s not worth much of their final grade. The phone is persistent, and if they let it ring out, their mother will only ring again.

“Hey, mom.”

She responds with their deadname and they hold back a sigh. The concept of being non-binary is confusing for her, they tell themself. How long they’ve told themself that, they’re not sure. Too long, and without much progress.

“How’s your work going?” she asks, and by the sounds of it she’s put the phone on speaker and picked up a paper. It’s been a ritual of theirs throughout Ferre’s time away at university, calls while they work and she does the daily crossword. It’s not been a great experience over the last year, since Ferre came out and their mother had done her absolute best to ignore it.

“Oh, you know,” Ferre says, saving the word document so they can format it later. “Powering through.”

“Written anything interesting?”

“I just finished a paper trying to argue the inherent goodness of humanity with only sources to prove the opposite,” Ferre says. “So I’m not really in the best spirits.”

Taking a philosophy class alongside their med classes had seemed like such a good idea at the time. There were so many easy A classes that they could’ve taken instead, but no.

“Oh, that sounds difficult,” their mother says, distractedly. “And what about your internship?”

Combeferre does their best to hold back a groan. Their one goal for the day was to not think about that fucking internship.

“Oh, it’s great,” they say, instead of complaining, because it really is such a good opportunity, and they’re very lucky to have been accepted. “I’m learning loads.”

They are learning loads. They’ve also only been there a few weeks and have already been pushed into taking extra shifts to shadow doctors when they can barely fit everything into their schedule as it is. Today is their day off, before six days in and the rest of their week chock-full of lectures.

“You’re not very talkative today,” their mother says.

“Sorry,” Ferre breathes, “Just tired, really.”

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

Their mother leaves it at that. She trusts them too much to tell her when something’s wrong. There’s a heavy silence between them for a moment before Ferre speaks up again.

“How’s work?”

 Ferre hangs up the call feeling drained and wholly unmotivated. Which is shit, because this essay is due at midnight and it still needs formatting and referencing. Glancing longingly at the clock, wishing time would turn back, Ferre sighs. Footnotes are the worst.

They’re only a few notes into their essay when their phone buzzes again. Wishing the distraction wasn’t so welcome, Ferre peels their eyes away from their computer screen.

Courf: can i come over

Ferre: Of course. All okay?

Courf: ill tell u when i get to u

That’s never good news. Courfeyrac is a constant over-texter, and doesn’t often wait until he’s in person to tell anyone about his adventures.

Ferre: I’ll order something in?

Courf: ur a saint

As much as they know they won’t get any work done while Courf is over, and as much as they know they can’t afford it, Ferre closes the essay in favour of looking for their favourite Chinese takeout place. Food will only motivate them further, surely.

Courfeyrac lets himself into the apartment and finds Ferre curled up in their chair at the kitchen table, blanket burritoed around them, textbooks open.

“You’re cramming,” Courf says, in a voice that sounds like he’s about to turn back around and leave.

“It’s fine,” Ferre says, saving the essay and closing the lid of their laptop. “What happened?”

Courf sighs and crumples into the chair opposite Combeferre.

“I left one of my fucking binders at home by mistake.”

Ferre frowns.

“My parents found it, I guess,” he carries on, “and figured out what it was.”

“Fuck,” Ferre breathes. “How did they take it?”

Courf pulls his sweater sleeves down his hands to pull at them.

“They called me to talk about it.” He takes a deep breath. “They think I’m copying you being non-binary.”

Combeferre sighs. If only they knew how Courf had come out first, how he had helped Combeferre discover their own identity, not the other way around.

“I knew they wouldn’t like it,” he continues, his voice quiet but quivering with rage and pain, “but could they not at least understand that this is my thing?”

Drained and empty, Combeferre wishes they had wisdom to offer Courf. They wish they could tell him how it’s all going to be okay, everything’s going to work out. But they can’t promise that and Courf knows it, and he deserves better than to be told those words. They’re not enough to encompass what Courf is feeling right now.

So instead, Combeferre stands up and opens their blanket. Courf rises and cuddles into their side, and they clumsily make their way to Ferre’s couch. Words of comfort won’t come, so it will come from touch instead. Ferre strokes their fingers through Courf’s hair and presses occasional kisses to it. When the takeout arrives they stack it out on the table and eat it with a Disney movie playing in the background.

Guilt settles in Combeferre’s stomach and they have to stop eating before they make themself feel more ill. Not only is Courfeyrac’s identity being passed off as some copycat game from their own, but they don’t even have the energy to be the friend Courf needs right now. He deserves better. Tomorrow, when they’ve slept, they’ll be able to rationalise all these feelings. But right now they don’t have the willpower to fight it, so they sit and stew in their thoughts, trying their best to convey comfort through gentle touches.

“Love you, Ferre,” Courf mumbles when they’ve curled back together again.

“Love you,” Combeferre whispers back. It’s not long after that that Courfeyrac begins softly snoring. Ferre pauses the movie and checks the time. Ten thirty.

They extract themself from Courf’s side and creep back to the kitchen table. The lamp flicks on and soon they’re back buried in books and finishing off their referencing. It’s getting late, and they have a six am start at the internship tomorrow. The plan was to get an early night tonight, before their shift and long day of classes.

This paper needs to be handed in in the next half hour. Ferre’s professor is incredibly strict about late papers, and this will get a zero if it’s not on time. Their college-long rule of handing work in the day before in case of internet struggles has gone out the window with every other commitment they’ve piled on to themself this semester. The added anxiety of time pressure makes them type faster, and they’re almost sure there must be errors in their referencing. That’ll be a chunk of their mark gone. Even so, they don’t have time to read back through, uploading the document ten minutes before midnight.

With the pressure off, Ferre sits for a minute and lets the anxiety ebb away. On the couch, Courfeyrac stirs, squinting over to where Ferre is sat at the table.

“What you doing?” Courf mumbles, half asleep still.

“Just finishing up,” Ferre says, “go back to sleep.”

“Should’ve kicked me out, Ferre,” Courf says. He rubs his eyes and yawns, sitting up a little more. “Work’s important.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Ferre whispers. “I got it handed in on time, anyways.”

Courf pulls a face and stands up on wobbly legs, bringing the blanket with him to the table and holding out a hand for Ferre.

“Come on,” he says. “Bed.”

Combeferre can’t argue with that, and takes Courf’s hand. They curl up together on Ferre’s bed, and they barely even remembers saying good night and turning out the light.

 Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Ferre’s alarm, the most faithful and obnoxiously loud alarm, didn’t go off. It’s eight thirty and Ferre is leaping out of bed, swinging open their door and running out to see Enjolras and Courfeyrac sat at the kitchen table with coffee.

“Ferre,” Enjolras says, surprised.

“I’m late,” they breathe. “I’m so fucking late, oh my God.”

“Ferre,” Enjolras says again. They look at him and he smiles softly. “You’re not late. We called in sick for you.”

“You did what?”

“You were like death on two legs last night,” Courf says, “you need to take a break.”

Ferre frowns.

“What- I can’t take a fucking break!”

Enjolras’ eyebrows raise.

“You can, and you bloody well will.”

“But my attendance-”

“Is literally over one hundred percent,” Enjolras tells them. “You’re allowed a day off; you need a day off.”

Ferre breathes, taking it in.

“I’ve already spoken to Joly and Feuilly, they’re going to note-take for your lectures. You need rest.”

“I’m fine,” Ferre says weakly.

“Combeferre, your mother texted me worried about you.”

“What?”

Enjolras pulls out his phone to show them.

“She said you weren’t your normal self on the phone yesterday,” he says, “and we agreed. You’ve been working yourself down to the bone.”

“You were exhausted last night, and you still made yourself listen to me complaining,” Courf says.

“You weren’t complaining,” Ferre says, indignant, “you were having a really shit time.”

“I’m not downplaying my issues,” Courf says, “I’m saying you should prioritise yourself.”

Ferre sighs.

“Maybe I could stand to… do less work for a bit,” they say eventually, looking at their hands.

“Maybe,” Enjolras says with a laugh.

When Ferre finally accepts their fate and slumps down in the chair, a mug of hot coffee is pressed into his hand – decaf, Enjolras insists, since taking a break means looking after yourself in the ways you don’t want to as well as the ways you do. When the coffee has been drunk and breakfast eaten, they move to the sofa, where Ferre settles on Enjolras’ knee and Courf lies over them like a weighted blanket. There’s a hand in their hair and lines tracing across their arm, and as they’re doted on, they drift off into a doze.

When they wake, Enjolras’ hair is still lazily running through their hair and scratching their scalp. Courf is asleep on them, and their whole body is numb. They shift their head and meet Enjolras’ eyes. He smiles and tugs their hair.

“Sleep well?”

Ferre nods.

“Thank you,” they murmur, “I really needed this.”

“I know you did,” Enjolras replies, smirking, “you’re not so good at knowing what you need for yourself, huh?”

“I just wish I could do better than I am,” they say softly.

Enjolras pets their hair, running his nails down the back of they neck, making Ferre shiver.

“You already exceed all expectations,” Enjolras says, “and none of us want you to run on high all the time. Taking time for yourself isn’t weakness.” He looks at them very pointedly. “It was a wise old non-binary person who told me that one.”

Ferre grins and rolls their eyes.

“It’s easy to say that to someone else.”

“I know,” Enjolras says, “but we can always say it back to you.”

Ferre rests their head against Enjolras’ leg.

“Yeah,” they breathe. “It’s a good job I’ve got you guys, huh?”

Enjolras huffs a laugh.

“It’s a good job we’ve all got each other.”

#ollie has a life #mine #les mis #les miserables #enjolras #combeferre #courfeyrac #fanfiction #fanfic #ollie writes