#but did we really expect anything different from him

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?

(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)

ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k

One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless. 

“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back. 

Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.” 

You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?” 

“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”

“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly. 

When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected. 

Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours. 

“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction. 

“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.” 

“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”

“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.” 

“I can’t have narcotics.” 

You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?” 

“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.” 

You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.” 

“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.” 

His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.

“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.” 

He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury. 

“What do you do for work?” you ask him. 

“I work for the FBI.” 

“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.” 

“It’s not the cut that hurts.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.” 

He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it. 

“Are you an agent?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?” 

“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.” 

“So you’re the big gun.” 

“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.” 

“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.” 

He sighs. “I do, too.” 

“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.” 

“It’s okay.” 

You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside. 

“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.” 

You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though. 

Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.” 

You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails. 

“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?” 

“It’s okay.” 

“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.” 

“You’re a great nurse.” 

“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?” 

“Getting worse.” 

“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?” 

“Psychosomatic, apparently.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?” 

“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly. 

“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”

“Stressful.” 

“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?” 

“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.” 

“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand. 

“I’m fine.” 

He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?” 

“Uh–”

“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.” 

He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.” 

He nods but doesn’t move. 

As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think. 

“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say. 

“Fine.” 

“You’re pink.” 

“What?” 

“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?” 

“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply. 

“You can ask for her number.” 

“No I can’t, she’s working.” 

“But you want to,” his friend surmises. 

You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?

[fastandcarlos]

Forgotten Thing : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: you know just how busy max is, and you understood too, only now you're starting to feel like the forgotten thing in his life

The sound of light snores greeted you as you walked into the apartment, unable to stop your eyes from rolling. Your heart raced as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the ground with a loud thud, not caring about the figure asleep in your living room.  

“Max,” you called out, standing to the side of the sofa with your arms folded across your chest. 

The sound of your voice had him stirring, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A smile was on his face for a moment until Max noticed how nice you looked, eyes going wide in horror when he remembered that he had promised to pick you up from work. 

“That was a lovely walk home,” you sarcastically told him, taking a seat on the end of the sofa, “at least you got some rest though, that’s what matters, right?” 

The frustration was clear in your voice as you found yourself let down by Max again. It was becoming a pretty normal feeling for you, to be given empty promises and assured of things that you knew that Max wouldn’t be able to follow through. 

“Don’t be mad, please,” Max asked of you, sitting himself up. “I only planned on closing my eyes for a few minutes, and then I just lost track of time. I mean, all you had to do was walk home from work, it’s hardly the most difficult job in the world. 

Your head shook at how dismissive Max was. “The walk home didn’t bother me Max, it’s the fact that you promised you’d be there. You keep promising and not delivering, it’s like I’m some forgotten, unimportant part of your life.” 

Max brushed his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up, not quite understanding what you were so fed up about. “I’ve been so busy at work recently I obviously just needed the sleep. We can’t all have a job like yours, some of us are working nonstop.” 

“I see, because my job is a walk in the park, isn’t it?” You scoffed. 

You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Max, he’d always seemed to be supportive, but now you weren’t so sure. It was like the two of you were in competition, with Max clearly feeling like he was winning. 

“It’s not the same, how hard I work and how hard you work is very different. I’ve got a flight to catch early tomorrow morning and you’ve got the next two days off, so I’d say I’m slightly more important,” Max argued. 

Your mouth went wide in shock, letting go of a gasp. You didn’t recognise the man in front of you, the man who usually was so caring and sympathetic had turned into someone who couldn’t care less about you. 

“I’ve always looked after you Max, done absolutely anything for you. It’s a shame you can’t do the same for me. I might as well just leave, that’s how you make me feel,” you spoke. 

Max’s eyes widened once again, his body tensing up. You stood up, feeling Max's eyes watching your every move, slowly backing towards the front door. 

“You wouldn’t actually leave,” Max sniggered. 

“Why not? What is there to make me stay anymore?” You challenged, your voice getting louder. “Why shouldn’t I go somewhere where I actually feel valued and appreciated rather as if I’m nothing.” 

“Love,” Max whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel that way, it’s just been so hard for the past couple of weeks. I really did intend on picking you up, I set an alarm and everything, but I must’ve just slept right through it.” 

“If you were tired or stressed Max, you should’ve told me, I’d never have expected you to pick me up if I knew,” you sighed, walking back into the room again. 

“But you’re right, I do keep making promises that I can’t keep, so I wanted to pick you up to prove to you that I care.” Max tapped the space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to sit beside him as his hand rested against your leg. 

“I know that you care about me,” you assured him. 

Max’s head shook, “but I’ve not shown you that, when you’re constantly here caring for me, I just take it for granted, we’re supposed to care for each other.” 

You smiled weakly across at Max, knowing better than anyone just how hard he worked. For all his faults, you could never fault how loved he made you feel, even if his mind was elsewhere sometimes. Your hand reached out and pressed against the side of his face, lips pressing against his cheek, unaware of the way Max’s heart raced with relief at the feeling of your lips on him.  

“If you’re free this weekend, do you fancy coming to the race?” Max asked you, “I’ll make sure that we can spend some time together when I’m not needed at the garage. We can explore, have a proper look around.” 

Your head nodded at his suggestion, excited by the thought of being at a race again. It had been a while, you were never quite sure if Max wanted you there or not, but now he couldn’t imagine himself going to the race without you. 

“You don’t need to do this, I know how hard race weekends are,” you assured him, squeezing against his hand, “I don’t need anything to be made up to me.” 

“But you do,” Max defended, knowing just how badly he’d treated you. “I want to make sure you know that I care, I’m going to make sure that we have the best weekend together too.” 

Max moved his free arm around your frame as he pulled you into his side, pressing several gentle kisses against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was more loving than anything you’d felt from him in a while, letting you know just how sorry he was. 

Once he was done, Max kept his head resting on top of yours. “Whatever you want to do whilst we’re there this weekend, we’ll do. I’ll even drive you around and pick you up from the paddock.” 

“Max,” you whispered, but he quickly shushed you, knowing what you were about to say. 

“Don’t tell me that you understand that it’s alright, because it’s not,” he laughed, reading your mind perfectly. “I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and that needs to be put right.” 

“I do understand, you work so hard.” 

“And so do you,” Max responded, “I never should’ve made it sound like your job doesn’t matter, because it does, you’re the hardest working person I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologising,” you grinned, pressing your head further into Max’s side, “I know how sorry you are Max.” 

A hum came from him as he leant back on the sofa, cuddling you into his side as he draped his legs over the top of yours. 

“Let’s sleep for a bit,” you suggested, placing your hand on his chest, “I know how much better you sleep when you’ve got someone to cuddle.” 

Max nodded in agreement with you, “you can’t be telling anyone how much I love being cuddled to sleep, people won’t think I’m cool anymore.” 

“Leave me stranded at work again and I might just reveal all your secrets,” you teased. 

“You wouldn’t,” Max challenged, watching your head nod out of the corner of his eye. 

“You wouldn’t want to find out.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄����𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 2: POTIONS/DEATH

CW: Suicide attempt, suicidal ideations, mental breakdown, ableism, DDDNE

This is the first thing Zam does when he realizes that everything he has done this season has been absolutely useless: he kills himself.

Okay, he tries: he abruptly turns away, throws off all his armor, takes a few springy steps, and then jumps down. The height is small, but he has ridiculously few hearts, so it's enough...

A moment before landing something breaks on top of his head, and the fall does not cause any damage. The nasty swamp slime gets into his mouth, and he spits it out, at the same time shaking off the glass stuck in his hair.

– What do you think is the probability that he has milk? – Pyro asks Spoke, tossing another splash bottle in his hand. Zam stares at him. How the fuck did he even hit? He is disgusting and wet. He has milk, but only in the enderchest, and he is not stupid enough to believe that he will be given time to drink it. Or that it would make any difference.

– I don't know, man, – Spoke spreads his hands, – like, high? Doesn't matter. Let's continue my supervillain speech. Time is not infinite, you know.

He doesn't want to continue the conversation. He pukes on the spot. He reeks of corpse rot. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be anywhere at all. Oh, God, can he just fucking die already?

Mapicc rolls his eyes. He looks annoyed, but not surprised. He and Spoke exchange understanding glances. Zam mechanically wipes his mouth from vomit, staring past them. There are too many things around. Everything is too bright and distinct. He wants to pierce through his belly with a sword, and he is horrified to realize that this will not help.

They- they don't even laugh at his insignificance and helplessness, they see it as an expected hindrance, as something that will happen when you tell the PrinceZam about the impending apocalypse. For some reason, it's so much worse. The vomit is creeping up in his throat again.

Step. Another. Third. This time he jumps into the void – because the Abyss kills anything, and even if not, suffocating in the infinity is still better than being next to them. That's the only thing he wants right now – to die.

He barely does not manage to reach y 0 when he is teleported back to their feet, and he falls to the knees. He violently coughs up bile. Deep disgust fills every cell of his body.

– Listen, – Mapicc says wearily, – let's skip this part. Yes, Spoke has backdoored the server, yes, he has an OP, and yes, no mundane plots have any meaning anymore. Wormhole will open in a week. Are you with us?

He lowers his head. His hands are shaking. He wants to wash himself. He wants to be anywhere else. He wants warm clothes and soft food. He wants to go home and bake a pumpkin pie. He wants to kill himself.

– Earth to the PrinceZam,– Spoke snaps fingers in front of his face, – bro, hang off. I need your answer. I'm only giving you a choice anyway because you're different. Be faster.

He opens his mouth and stutters and gasps. Nothing in his body works properly. For the first time in months, he can't say anything. Why-why at all. What's the difference. They can't make his life worse. They won't be able to mess up any more. They are not-

A blurry image with black and red appears in front of his face. Black hair. A pale face. A red hoodie. Bandana. Horns. Zam doesn't have to think about it to know that it's Mapicc.

– Listen, – Mapicc's voice comes to him as if from under water, - I know it's hard, – no, he has no idea, – and really, really sucks. but this is the situation we find ourselves in now. Right now, you don't have to do much, right now you just need to make one decision. Okay?

Something inhuman is bursting out of him. He's throwing up again. Mapicc sighs.

– Hey, – he says too calmly, – it's hard, I know. But not worse than the end of season two, right? – much, much worse, – just take a deep breath, exhale, give yourself time to think and make a decision, okay? And we'll leave you alone.

He can't. He can't. He is not-

– If I refuse, – he says, dead–straight, – will you let me die?

– No, of course not, – Spoke's voice comes from somewhere to the side, and he doesn't have enough strength to turn his head, – why did we try otherwise? Wait for the Wormhole, and I'll think about it. Maybe I'll give you endless effects, or maybe I'll let you die in peace. Who knows? I haven't decided yet.

– Don't listen to him, – Mapicc interrupts, irritated, – don't think about it. Just decide whether you want to destroy this world or fight for its preservation. If you want to keep it, the defenders will pick you up sooner or later. If you want to destroy it, you will become the third with me and Spoke. We will work together. Like before.

He's looking past them. His heart is beating too fast.

– if I join you, – he says dryly, – will you let me die?

– When you will finish your work? – Spoke giggles, – yeah, sure, why not. It wouldn't matter.

He swallows a lump. His throat hurts. Mapicc seems to be looking right at him. He's suffocating. He doesn't want any of this.

– Okay, – he says in the end, – I'll help you. And then you'll let me go.

Spoke grins.

– And that's the deal! Good job, PrinceZam. That's more like it.

At least Mapicc and I will be friends again, he thinks detachedly. At least there's anything good about it. Maybe I can get over it. Even if it's only to get the fuck out later.

[nerdylilpeebee]

"difference." So instead of acknowledging radicalization is to blame and saying "maybe we should stop being sexist pieces of shit" you decide to pull whataboutism and present men being radicalized in the most bad-faith way possible to paint women as "purer" even when radicalized? Okay, Hun.

No, they really don't. Andrew Tate is an influencer who already has tons of money. Even if they "boycotted" him, it would change nothing. People don't need money to post on social media and influence the younger generation.

"what did women ever do to deserve it." To deserve men turning against feminism? Rampant man-hatred. Sexism. You cannot be bigoted to people and expect them to treat you like you're worthy of support. If you mean "rape threats" tho, then nothing. Those aren't okay no matter what. But neither is saying you want to kill all men. And that's pretty fucked up too. XD tho I'm sure you'll have an argument for why it's different.

Most of them ARE decent people, and thankfully most women aren't sexist ass hats. But most FEMINISTS are.

Okay, you don't have to worry at night. That is pure paranoia. Men are the vast majority of violent crime victims. And unfortunately there is no world where you will not have to defend yourself. Men could vanish and you'd still have to worry about being attacked by a stranger.

Like it or not, it is small. You CLAIMING every woman you know was victimized by a man does not make that true. XD

"a man's rights have never been up for debate" are you fucking HIGH??? Men's are up for debate all the fucking time! Men don't even have reproductive rights in the first place! Women can sue little boys for child support if they pregnant from raping them! Men's rights are ALWAYS up for debate. You'd have to denying reality as hard as you POSSIBLY can to think otherwise.

You're not helping yourselves. You're actively driving away the people you need to be on your side. All because you'd rather be vengeful than do anything to change what's happening. That's not helping yourselves, that's self-destruction.

Not to mention, feminism is funded by a lot of men, and not just via the government giving them funding. XD you're not helping yourselves if you're doing so via men's money. That's like the child of a rich influential family thinking they're living by their own merit despite still using their family's money for all of their expenses. It's ludicrous.

Caring about the rights of the people you expect to care about yours is not "being their mommies." It's actually trying to move forward and do something about inequalities and societal issues.

Men haven't been, and will never be oppressed.

I'm so full of rage whenever one tries to speak to me about social issues, complains about the suicide rate, the draft, whining how in this day and age men are not being catered to; so used to being adored by doing the bare fucking minimum.

They think they are oppressed? It's laughable. Maybe I'll listen the day a man gets barred from travelling or leaving the house without a female guardian. When he has to cover every inch of skin, including his face and not speak in public. Where they are forced into underage marriages or killed in honour killings. When a man gets denied an education, a bank account, his reproductive rights. When male children are abandoned or killed at birth for no reason but their gender. Perhaps when they are the most raped, murdered, abused and trafficked gender.

Only when they finally get a taste of what women have been enduring for centuries, under their hands and laws, maybe they will finally understand just a little bit.

Until then, I simply refuse to care.

[gunsatthaphan]

bestie what are we thinking about episode 1 I'm still speechless.

I don't wanna say too much because so much happened but at the same time you can tell the actual story hasn't started so I feel like the current vibe will not be representative for the rest of the show lol.

But so far my favorite thing is the characters because even though there's already a bunch of ppl saying the acting is mid and Dunk is dragging everyone down or whatever, I have nothing to complain about. I feel like I got to know the 4 of them in this episode and the performances were convincing to me. Like yes, FK are leading the acting game and Dunk comes in last but he has improved compared to previous roles and from what I can tell, he is giving Style the necessary characteristics. He is a campy character and I saw a lot of people saying he matches the novel. So I'm not mad. not yet anyway. Joong as Fadel is crazy if you ask me, his screen presence is insane here. 10/10 would avoid him in the streets lmao. Bison is an interesting little guy lol I can tell he's a complex character which I love and Kant is just I mean 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ I really get Khao bc I, too, am absolutely obsessed with him lol. Maybe it's my Fir bias, maybe it's the Yok vibes I don't know but I'm on my knees. I can see what people were pointing out about his personality being very tied to Bison in the novel but so far it doesn't bother me at all. First brings him to life and gives him charisma and I'm buying every bit of his performance.

The story is very much unserious but we all knew that going in so I surely won't waste my time analyzing anything too closely lol. The crime plot is definitely not fleshed out and I'm sensing some NLMG vibes in the storytelling but as long as we don't take it seriously, it's all good. It is a comedy without trying to be one, which is a good sign. I didn't expect KantBison to jump right into the heat but seeing how their and FadelStyle's relationships will develop into opposite directions, I think it all made sense. They put a good 80% of the trailer into the episode which I was kind of expecting as they did the same with OF but like I said, the core story hasn't really started so let's see how it goes. They overdid it a bit with the music sadly, not every scene needs a rock song blasting in the background lol. I did like the song choices but it was a bit distracting at times, especially when there's an obvious transition within a single scene.

But besides that I had a good time and I'm mostly glad that the actual vibe is completely different from the pilot trailer which I didn't like at all. I see no connection to that trailer besides the story and I'm very happy about that. I'm happy with the overall energy and the characters and I'm looking forward to seeing everything unfold, as well as meeting the other characters!!

Feel free to tell me your thoughts in asks or replies!

xxx

[dsireland86]

There Is Beauty In The Pain

Chapter 6 Part 2

18+ below the cut

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa   @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp

Sophie:

I brushed my teeth, placing my brush in the holder once finished and turned out the bathroom light. Climbing into bed, I sat for a moment, thinking about the day and all that had happened. I was still in a whirlwind of emotions about it, feeling like it was a first time thing, even though it certainly wasn’t.

Noah’s hands on me, exploring places only one other man had ever gone, was the last thing I ever expected, especially after the fight we had the other day.

To start with, Perry’s texts came out of nowhere, blindsiding me to the point that it made me panic. It had been almost three months since I’d last seen him, since those last horrible, fucked-up texts and video (which were still on my phone), were sent to me.

I’d blocked his number, but he must have gotten another number, because that morning, a text came through that said “I miss you and I’m sorry” from a random number I didn’t recognize, automatically thinking they had the wrong number.

I wrote back and said such, but another text came through quickly that read:

“No, I don’t. But I have yours memorized, Baby.”

I knew then I was screwed. The conversation with Perry was brief, but the things he told me were different than the other times before. Even his tone sounded different. I wanted to believe him, but after the night before with Noah, I just couldn’t.

I told Perry to go away and  leave me alone, instantly blocking the number, but keeping the texts just in case. And then it happened. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t control the corrupted thoughts running through my head, and that morning, Noah could tell how wrecked I was. He thought it was his fault and it crushed me that he felt that way. 

I just couldn’t explain it the right way to him, yet, because none of it made sense in my head yet. Then I made the mistake of calling him Perry, and man, that made things go south real fast.

I stayed to myself for a few days, eventually opening the prison gates in mind and allowing myself some freedom. Noah was there, waiting for me with a smile, a hug, and an apology which I accepted gratefully, ready to put the past behind me and move on. 

The moment Noah touched me for the first time, my skin screamed. It wasn’t enough to just have his hands on me. I wanted him in me, molding me to him and allowing him to evade every single crack, corner and crevice of my body. And he did; mostly.

His finger inside me was something I never thought would be so addictive. He knew what he was doing when he twisted or hooked, or inserted another finger, almost filling me.

The way he softly yet confidently circled my clit, making me say things I’d never said before because I was never allowed to speak during sex with Perry. He said it broke his concentration, when really, now I knew he was probably thinking about somebody else. 

Then came the moment when Noah went fully down on me, holding nothing back as he licked, sucked, and kissed my center like it had always belonged to him. In reality I guess it did because Perry, never once, did even a quarter of what Noah was doing. Even though I was forced to pleasure him and make him happy and content, Perry said that sort of thing wasn’t for him. 

Noah brought me to such an unreal climax, that the way I came for him was out of this world. It gave me such a high, I was literally seeing stars, even making him cum in his jeans. 

All of these little things Noah did to me earlier in the day attached themselves to my memory, refusing to forget any detail. They would stay there forever, buried deep in a secret place. But the best part of it all was how Noah made my heart feel through it all.

He was sweet and gentle and made me feel completely worthy of everything he did to and for me

I had never experienced an orgasm like that, nor being praised and worshiped in the way Noah had. The entire experience was euphoric, almost ethereal, and I hoped it wasn’t just a one time thing. 

The subtle knock on the door brought me out from reminiscing and it opened slowly. Noah stood in the entrance, looking so fucking delicious that I had to squeeze my legs together, trying to suppress the strong sensual, wet feeling cascading between them. I knew Noah noticed because of the way he smiled at me.

“I just came to check on you and see if you were okay?”

“Well, that was sweet of you,” I answered, patting the spot next to me on the bed. Noah’s eyes met mine as he made his way over to the bed, dropping on the mattress next to me. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied.

I wasn’t oblivious to the way Noah’s eyes raked over me. I was in my sleepy pants and a tank top and didn’t have the chance to grab my hoodie before he walked in. I was chilly, goosebumps spreading over my skin for proof and making my nipples harden.  Noah’s eyes lingered on my breasts a little longer than I think he meant to because when he looked up at me, a slight reddish hue graced his cheeks.  

I reached out and caressed his cheek, feeling the weight of his head leaning into my palm. He looked at me again, this time a little sleepier. 

Noah had a face that could fit anywhere. Sometimes he was hot as hell, other times cute. Right now, he was absolutely adorable, but then other times, I’ve seen him look so angry that it scared me. But I knew I was safe with him. I knew Noah would never, ever hurt me. 

“Sleepy?” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Did Matt mention anything about earlier,” I asked, quietly. Noah shook his head, slipping his hand between my knees.

“I think he was too embarrassed to,” he chuckled, letting his hand slide down my thigh. Even through the light fabric of my pants I could feel the heaviness of his touch, sparking a sudden need inside me. I sighed, indulging myself in the feeling of Noah’s hands on me again.

Without taking my eyes off his, I lowered my legs and let them fall open, hearing the strangled groan leave his chest as I did so, proving he wanted me, just as much as I wanted him.

“Round two,” Noah smirked, leaning over and laying his lips on me, kissing me softly. I took his hands, lacing his long, tattooed fingers with ming. My mouth fell open with his, our tongues pressing together as Noah let go of my hands and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting and pulling me into his lap, where he continued to kiss me. I bit back and swallowed the moans that were begging to escape. I didn’t want to sound so needy and desperate.

Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, I settled comfortably in Noah’s lap, unintentionally wiggling against the hard bulge pressed against my heated center. 

It was Noah who moaned first, separating us for a moment to look at me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sophie,” he said with absoluteness. I knew he was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes. 

“You’re pretty hot yourself,” I giggled, running my fingertips up and down his back, feeling his muscles relax beneath my touch.

“What are we doing?” he asked, his deep chocolate eyes searching mine.

“I don’t know,” I answered, lowering my gaze.

Noah lifted my chin and kissed me again, slipping his hands under my tank top and placing them on the skin of my back. His hands felt like fire to my icy skin, making me shiver. I welcomed his touch, though. It melted away every unwanted touch from my past every time I felt it. 

His fingertips danced along my spine as memories began to unfold, images that had my eyes filling with tears. I threw my arms around his neck and rested my cheek against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” 

I nodded, unable to answer for fear he’d hear the tears in my voice. 

“Hey, look at me,” Noah said, pulling me away from him.

I Didn't. 

“Look at me,” he repeated, tone calm.

But I couldn't. I didn’t want him to see me feeling weak again.

His fingers were on my chin, lifting it to look at him. His eyes darted between mine and I could see the worry behind them.

“You're safe,” Noah whispered, cupping my face in his large hands, eyes boring straight into me as if penetrating my soul.

“I promise.” 

That word. Promise. God how that word could break me.  

He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not being easy,” I whimpered, wiping the loose tears that trickled down my cheeks

“Well, I don't want easy, I never asked for it. I just want you.” 

I started to shake my head, but Noah stopped me by grabbing my face.

“Just the way you are,” he said, confidently. 

I stared into his eyes, waiting to see that same look I would see in Perry’s eyes when he would lie to me, but I didn’t see it. 

“Really?”

“Really,” Noah repeated, without missing a beat, running his thumbs over my lips. I frowned in confusion.

“Even the broken pieces?”

I wondered how that was even possible; to love someone, broken pieces and all. 

Noah pecked my lips. “Especially the broken pieces,” he winked. 

My heart suddenly felt ten times lighter as my head hit his chest and I laid it against it, relishing the sound of his beating heart.

Folio:

I knew the risk of it happening. I knew it was possible. I just didn’t think it would be so soon, so fast. 

Sophie fell for him; Noah and all his charm. Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? After all, they shared a unique moment with each other and given everything that happened to her in the last month, Noah was the one her heart felt safe with. They weren't officially together, but all of us knew there was something there. 

But there was an undeniable pull between me and her, one that came and went like a hot summer storm.  

There were moments that were simple and mundane, our friendship blossoming into something I never knew I needed. 

But then there were moments when the fever between us was so hot, so incredibly strong, that it felt like we could burn the world down around us. 

I couldn’t explain it. I knew Sophie felt something whenever we were together. I could always see it in her eyes, especially when we touched, but neither one of us ever said anything.

So, I kept all my feelings to myself because of how worried I was about losing her for good. If I confessed the way I felt there was a chance she'd be angry with me or worse I'd scare her away and that wasn't something I was willing to risk. 

There were hints, though that spoke loudly; the way she would watch me so intently and her reaction when I played my drum kit, or the way she would cuddle up close to me on our random fishing adventures. 

But my favorite was when I took her out on my bike a few times while Noah spent the morning with Ash at the gym. The warm California air rushed through us both, making the space between hot and sweaty as she clung to me tightly. 

Sometimes she'd rest her head on my back and I would hold her arm pressed tightly around my waist. It was magical, being with Sophie that way. It always felt right and I often thought I'd maybe stand a chance. 

But each time we got home and I watched her and Noah hug and greet each other, it felt like I'd been punched in the gut or worse, had my heart ripped out of my chest. I'd pretend I didn't notice, only to hide myself away in my room for a while, sometimes getting high or just stareing at the ceiling thinking about what it would be like if it was me she had fallen for instead of Noah.

The answer was always the same, too; I'd be the happiest man in the world. 

Six Months Later

Noah:

The warm liquid seeped through my shorts, creating a large grayish stain to appear. Luckily, we were the only ones home, so I didn’t risk the chance of getting shit from any of the guys before getting the chance to change.

“See what you fucking do to me,” I smiled after Sophie pulled me in between her thighs, wrapping her legs around the back of mine. 

Her arousal made me aroused and right after her orgasm hit her, mine came crashing into me before I could stop it.

Sophie held my face between her hands and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth and pressing it to mine. The way she kissed me fully had me wrecked. My legs were still shaking. 

She ran her hands through my hair, wrapping them behind my neck.

“I fucking love it when you do that,” I moaned, lowering my head to her shoulder. 

“What, this?” running her hands through my hair, her nails raking against my scalp. 

“Yup. That.” 

Sophie chuckled.

I raised my head and looked over her face, taking in all the sweet little imperfections I noticed: a few small scars on her cheekbones and under her eyes, proof of all the hard months of physical abuse she lived through.

“So beautiful,” I whispered to myself.

Sophie shook her head and instantly looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” slipping my finger under her chin and turning her face towards me. 

“You are,” I assured her. My lips formed a thin line and curved into a smile, but Sophie covered her face with her hands as if she was embarrassed. I pulled them away, and brought them to my chest instead, holding them there tightly.

‘Don't you dare cover your face, especially not from me,” I scolded. “You've spent too much of your life hiding that beautiful face because of…” 

but I didn't finish my thought. I didn't want to say the asshole’s name that was responsible for all of Sophie’s trauma in the past. I didn't like bringing up the abuse either and all the shit he put her through.

“Yeah, well, you know,” I huffed, I mumbled.

I bushed the loose hair out of Sophie’s face, forcing a smile. I was fighting hard against the urge of wanting to finally be inside her, filling her and worshiping her body the way it deserved to be.

But I was the one choosing to wait for sex. I wanted to give her more time to adjust to everything that was happening in her world and all around her and not feel forced or pressured just to satisfy me. 

The soft touch of her fingers as they slid down my cheek when she touched me spoke louder than words. It was refreshing and I couldn’t resist leaning into her touch. 

I had so much to tell Sophie. Over the last nine and a half months, I'd learned everything about her, yet I hadn’t been fully transparent with her. 

I had secrets of my own that I wasn't sure I was capable of telling her, things about my past that still haunted me, but I knew I had to try. And soon.

"I'm ready Noah, I'm ready for you to have all of me.” 

Was she serious? My forehead creased and I knew Sophie could easily read the expression on my face. 

“Sophie, are you sure? Don't you think,” “I have been thinking, Noah! That's all I've been doing! I want you, Noah. I need you, now.”

She stared up at me with her doleful eyes, making me weaker by the second. “I’m through with waiting.” 

My hands ached to touch her, my arms to hold her. “Are you sure?” I whispered, sinking down closer to her lips. They were a mere inches apart from each other when she whispered back, “Yes.” 

Fuck.

Our lips crash together in a cry of desperate eagerness. Sophie pulled me into her causing me to have to straddle her lap as my hands tangled around her face and then her hair. I wanted to devour her and suffocate beneath her kisses, consuming as much of her as I could. Her hands found my ass and I uttered a low grumble the moment I felt them attach to me, gripping and tugging on my shorts.  

“Fuck, Sophie,” I breathed, almost falling into her.  “Noah, I want you,” she pleaded.

The way she whined, pulling part of my shorts down and running her hand over my skin had me buckling at the knees, weak as hell.

“Sophie, baby,” I mumbled against her lips, dropping to my knees and cupping her face to kiss her better. I couldn’t resist her intoxicatingly strong need for me anymore. 

I didn't want to. I wanted to give her every part of me, including every dark and dirty secret I had buried deep inside my head. 

“You own me, baby. You fucking own me; body and soul,” I confessed to her, no longer caring how fast any of this was moving. She whimpered again, making my hard, throbbing cock twitch against the zipper of my shorts.

“And everyone is going to know it.”

Sophie stopped, pulling away to look at me.

“Noah, are you sure?”

I smiled at the way she seemed so worried about it. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure about anything before in my life.”

She threw herself back into my arms, clinging to me tightly. 

“Noah, let's go upstairs, please,” she begged me, and my heart started pounding even harder than before. I pulled her to her feet, about to do just that, when my phone went off. The ringer was fucking loud, making both of us jump. 

“Motherfucker,” I groaned, pulling it out of my pocket to see who it was. 

“Fucking Matt.” I ignored it, and slid it back into my pocket. “He can wait,” I said, cupping Sophie’s face again, kissing her already bruised, wet lips. Picking her up bridal style, I head towards the staircase, just as my phone went off again.

“Seriously,” I growled in frustration. It was Matt again. Sophie sighed. “Just answer it. And go clean yourself up,” she laughed, pointing down at my shorts still stained with my release from earlier. “No, I'm just going to ignore it again,” I stated, taking her hand, but she pulled away from me. 

“Don't. He's just going to keep calling or worse show up. Just answer it. We'll have time for us later.” 

Sophie laid her hand gently on my arm, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me. I grumbled and answered the phone, knowing she was right. 

“Okay, what? Someone better be dying Matt, I swear to god. You just interrupted the most significant moment in the history of me and Sophie.” 

“Noah.” 

The somber tone in Matt's voice made stop halfway up the stairs. 

“Matt, what’s wrong?” 

There was a brief pause. 

“Noah, I've got some really fucked up news that you're not going to like. I only found out a little bit ago myself.”

I hadn't heard the kind of tone in Matt's voice since… fuck.”

“She's back, isn't she,” I stated, pausing halfway up the stairs. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest and I felt like I might throw up. The world around me started to become a little bury as I carefully sat down on the step below me. 

“Yeah, she is, Noah. Sarah's back.

[catras-breakup-song]

how do you feel about the whole "you always wanted more" line that got cut? at first i was wondering why they did that because adora didn't want more until it made me think "huh, what if prime was just running on catra's memories and didn't actually know adora?" but i'm curious as to what you think

OH MY GOD I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED THIS. i am such a sucker for the cut STC script. back in late 2020 & early 2021 i had a twitter layout based on “that little spot on the roof that only they knew about” because S3 is my favorite:

even better, i have another old twitter fancam saved from around that time too that used that screenshot of the script in the beginning. it was by the username yoosene but is now long gone, so i reuploaded it to imgur here (the hands part, i’m going insane…)!

anyway, as for interpretations, it was absolutely to manipulate & guilt-trip adora. i recently saw someone say (i don’t remember where though, sorry) that he was torturing both of them by setting up that nasty fight against both of their wills and had planned to kill catra all along — despite saying he wouldn’t right after she rescued glimmer and was imprisoned for it, in my opinion there was an unspoken “yet” even though he did technically say that word but you know what i mean; “you will be of use to me, and then everyone from your blighted planet, including yourself, will be destroyed.”

that’s the thing about what the show was trying to convey through her stay on prime’s ship via glimmer’s desperate pleas, isn’t it? her illusion of power was only ever temporary. once she no longer had anything of value to serve, what would she be worth? how could she have genuinely believed that he wanted to save her, of all living beings, from the curse of humanity & will of consciousness? what makes one individual different to an omnipotent god compared to countless others across the universe throughout space and time? i truly believe that he was subtly mocking her when he talked of her being “exalted, raised up above the other wretched creatures of [her] home world.”

i was actually trying to find another five by five takes quote about this, because mentioning them is always an obligation for me, but surprisingly i didn't really find anything about how catra had worked her way up to prime's recognized single subordinate (only that moment of reflection afterward, which is just this entire short video), and was under the false impression with a cocky & confident attitude that her position meant something for her safety & survival; i'm mostly referring to this moment:

the horde's the horde...even in space. as long as i'm of value to horde prime, i've got a place in this world. i can work my way up here, just like i did before.

actually y’know what… i’m going to tag @horde-princess because this is starting to dive into religious meta which is like… her whole gimmick thingy. we would be blessed (pun intended) to see your take on this writing that never made it to the show, if you haven’t given it already!

now this is veering too far off from the original point after getting sidetracked. the tone of those quotes in the alternate script is (fake) pity, and horde prime was entertained by the struggles of mere mortals. to make adora a failure of what she represented would surely force her to give up she-ra to him, because what would even be the point anymore of living up to expectations if she couldn’t save catra first & foremost (that’s something that she struggled with since initially leaving the horde over three years ago due to how catra made her feel about supposedly breaking their childhood promise… but it’s a story for another post)?

i don’t doubt that your thought process is at least partially right too though, anon. prime didn’t read adora’s mind thoroughly at any point, so it’s entirely possible that he just read off catra’s intense feelings of abandonment & betrayal. that being said, if he really did see all as he claimed, maybe he was able to recreate an objectively accurate collection of events and knows what really happened and what the intentions behind certain actions were. i also wonder if catra secretly knew deep down that adora’s defection wasn’t directly about her but just couldn’t admit it until she had time to deeply reflect on it during “corridors.”

i’ll leave this messy, unorganized post with an amazingly relevant gif set made by an editor whose work on here i really enjoy:

as i said a long time ago, you just had to be there on november 19th 2020 when that excerpt was released because the hype was crazy!

[curlygrant44]

It's not like he didn't expect the question...it was the reasonable place to start, but Curly can't help the chagrined smile as he answers, "Well...I hope it won't be a disappointment to you..."

He leans back in his chair a little, getting comfortable.

"Jim and I met when we were kids. Four or five, I guess; he came from the wrong side of the tracks, you could say, but there was only one public park nearby so my nanny would take me there during the day while my parents were at work. That's where we met, and most of how I saw him...we didn't get to know each other well until I was...I don't know, thirteen? Something like that? He was already working to pick up the slack for his dad, and I was..." Curly grimaces. This one's a little harder to explain, but he tries his best. "...I was in a bit of a rebellious phase, you could say...so I forged my mother's signature and transferred to a public school. Spent three years there with Jim, hanging around town when he had time or heading home on the bus if he didn't -- I told my parents I was studying at the library, and they believed me...for a while, at least."

The question of what his parents are like is harder to express, but he decided to try, and he will.

"My mother was...posh. English, came from money. She married a researcher at the top of his field, had a child...and when dad ended up disgraced, they took me back to America and raised me there. I never knew what it was like anywhere else, so I never considered myself anything but American...never really visited, either. Mother didn't like taking the trip." He pauses. Swallows. And for a moment, as he looks down at his lap, despite his age, something about Curly looks so young and vulnerable-

And then it's gone again.

"...she was...well...she was strict. She didn't want me to be like my father, do something reckless and destroy my career and nearly ruin my family. If she could see me now, right?" He can't help the little wry joke, but it doesn't last long before he sighs again. She probably has seen the news, in truth. He's sure she keeps track of him, it's not that she didn't love him in her own way...

He looks up, catching Sunshine's gaze, and tries weakly to smile. "I haven't seen her since I was 16. She threw me out when Jim and I left for flight school, after I'd bailed him out. I don't regret what I did...I just wish...I wish things could've been different. That it hadn't cost what it did to make the right choice."

It cost him the chance to watch his brother grow up, to be there for him, to help him with all the awkward years he knows now his parents never did -- but he didn't know what to do, and he was still trying to scrape by in his twenties as a rookie pilot fighting to get decent jobs. It wasn't because he didn't care, and he knows Charlie understands that now.

Restless as he is, Curly wanders aimlessly and sketches a rough diagram of the halls, pausing now and then to answer messages as he goes -- it's when the tablet's battery gets low that he decides to follow the map to backtrack to his room and take a break from wandering.

Except...when he opens the door, there's no familiar paperback on the desk, and the one person in room -- changing clothes, no less -- is definitely not Jim.

This isn't his quarters, clearly, which means...

He blinks at his double before averting his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. "Shit, sorry, I- I didn't mean to intrude, I got turned around."

Well. He'd meant to find his double to ask about the matter of nicknames and color-coding the crews, anyway. Not to mention discussing the uranium situation. He might as well stay for a moment. "...I did have a couple of things to ask about the next time I saw you, though. Do you mind if we talk? I, uh. I can wait outside for a minute, if you'd rather."

( @curlygrant44 )

At seeing his door suddenly opened by his double while he was getting changed does cause a small deer-in-headlights type effect before he blinks and quickly putting his shirt on properly.

"No worries, it happens with the state of the ship." He says as he moves to tidy up the room slightly as he didn't really expect anyone to ever enter the room besides himself.

"But you are quite welcome to come in. Don't mind the small mess? What do you want to talk about since I'm all ears." He offers a small smile before offering his bed to sit on.

[visionheld]

@stillgrows : "Kaveh, was it?" he asked as he slid into the seat beside the other. Last night was more of a blur than Kaeya had intended, but he hadn't counted on meeting someone he'd hit it off with so well at the bar. What was meant to be just a drink or two to begin his research of the Sumeru alcohol industry became several, and he was beginning to wonder if people in Mondstadt could hold their liquor as well as he thought. He lifted a hand in a small wave toward the owner as they made eye contact before focusing his lone blue eye on Kaveh once more. "I hope your roommate isn't too mad at me. He did seem a little..." Here, Kaeya trailed off, but it wasn't due to a lack of words—no, it was deliberate, allowing Kaveh the space to reveal more about himself.

Sumeru city is by no means a small town. Still, those who reside here are not entirely immune from getting used to seeing familiar faces. Especially if you’re considered famous and renowned like Kaveh, most people seem to know who you are before you’ve even said a word of introduction. It doesn’t help that the architect tends to spend all his nights in the same tavern. Kaveh loves his life and where he lives it. As miserable as it can be, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even so, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to meet someone new for once. 

Meeting someone from an entirely different region of Teyvat is even more appealing. Kaveh isn’t entirely unfamiliar with Mondstadt, but he’s exclusively learnt about it in books. Meeting a local is an opportunity he doesn’t come upon often. So Kaveh had easily welcomed the other with open arms the night prior. 

Kaveh is just as welcoming as Kaeya ( Was it Kaeya? Truthfully the details of last night got hazy after the third glass of wine. ) approaches him a second time. The blonde smiles as Kaeya sits beside him, appearing in a warm and amiable mood. However that mood immediately sours the moment Alhaitham is mentioned.

“ Don’t get me started. ” Kaveh punctuates this with a swift swig of his wine, downing the entire glass in one gulp. When he speaks again there’s a slight slur in his speech. “Alhaitham’s a real…a real piece of work.”

He doubts Alhaitham is actually mad at Kaeya. Or if he was, the ire has long since passed. The scribe has an awful temper, but he rarely lets things linger like that. Grudges get in the way of logic and productivity. Most of the time for minor grievances he’ll just let it go. He just happens to have the most unpleasant personality on the planet and never forgets a damn thing. 

Besides, it’s not like Kaeya actually did anything wrong. He was just an innocent bystander. The mess last night was all Kaveh’s fault and Alhaitham knows that. If he were here now he’d probably say something irritating like ‘Kaveh’s emotional instability and alcoholism isn’t Kaeya’s responsibility.’ Kaveh can picture it so vividly in that insufferable know it all voice he has. 

But what does he know, huh? Kaveh bets Alhaitham doesn’t even know why he was so upset to start drinking in the first place. He bets he doesn’t know any of the fascinating things about Mondstadt that Kaeya told him last night. Bet he doesn't even know they make wine out of dandelion seeds over there.

No, he probably knows all that. That bastard knows everything.

“ Boss! ” Kaveh calls out to Lambad across the room, raising his empty glass. “ I'll have another! And keep them coming! ...Please. ”

The blonde only remembers his manners last minute, already too far gone to keep up appearances without a conscious effort. Ordinarily he wouldn't bother, but -- While he has his foreign acquaintance is beside him, he'd like to do his best to make a good impression. Though it might be too late for that, considering Kaeya was there to see Alhaitham throw Kaveh over his shoulder to take him home last night. Archons, what a mess...

Once his fifth glass is poured out and sipped from, Kaveh returns to his original subject.

“ I don't know why I ever decided to be friends with him back at the Akademiya. He's always been like this, bad tempered, rude, and stubborn. ”

“ You know I was pretty much his only friend back in those days. I guess I just...felt bad for him. He was so brilliant, even back then... But it felt like there was a vast desert of distance between him and everyone else. At the time, I think I just wanted to see if I could bridge that gap. But that was my mistake. ”

Kaveh scowls down at his reflection in the burgundy colored wine before downing it all again. He doesn't want to think about Alhaitham anymore tonight. He doesn't want to think anymore tonight period. He just needs to get a few more drinks in and it'll all fade away. It always does.

“ But enough about me... ” He offers Kaeya a lopsided smile, raising his elbow to the table and resting his face on his hand. “ I wanna know more about you! You're probably the most- ” Kaveh hiccups. “ --The most interesting person I've met since the traveler came to the city. What's it like being a knight? Being a calvary captain sounds so glamorous. But I imagine it has it downsides just like any other job. ”

[girlcrushau]

[fuchsea]

instead of listening to a banger of a no skip album, you all are out here having a discourse about something that's not even valid in this case. just listen to the album and enjoy how hard it slaps

[callmeevilspawn]

Alex, he was a very understanding person. Hell, he had to be because of how he was and how Jo had been understanding with him. But, he just couldn't understand why something so small could pull her away in different directions. Not everyone deserves to be called a mother, and hers was one of those people. He had heard just what she said, and honestly, he wanted to protect Jo. He wanted to make sure she knew she wasn't like anyone else, and she wasn't going to be different just because she found out all of this and she was really having a hard time with the fact what her mother did and how she was conceived. Alex had the crazy mother, and now, he was just trying to mend that being she was better, but doesn't defeat the purpose of him raising his siblings.

Jo was avoiding him after it happened and he knew something was wrong. But he didn't know how to approach it. No matter what happened, Alex knew Jo was the person he was meant to be with and they can work through all of this. He wanted her to know for once, she is not alone and she won't be alone, for as long as she wants him to be apart of this journey of her finally self healing and self discovery of the mother who never wanted her. Not that it made it right, but he knew he had to do something. Sure, Alex didn't get it, he didn't understand why she was being so hard on herself when it doesn't change the person she is, and change who he fell in love with. She just knows wheres he came from and a mother who sees nothing wrong in doing what she did, and that is something Jo just has to understand.

Alex knew he didn't really understand but he didn't need Jo to feel as if she needed to be hard on herself. She was going to feel it and Alex knew he just had to be there and make sure she doesn't go too down into the dumps. That is what Alex is there for as well, he doesn't want to see Jo be hard on herself. "Expected or not, how she reacted wasn't on you, and I can tell for sure, though, I wasn't there, you are nothing like her. Will never be anything like her, and I know you will get through this. You aren't alone, and I know I don't understand a lot, and I know I don't understand just what that feels like, but we are in this together Jo, this is you and I, and we have to get through this type of thing together and depend on one another to be there when we feel like we can't do it on our own, and this is something you can't do on your own."

"don't get mad at me, I am just saying. I know it sucks but this doesn't change anything for me, if that is what you're thinking." he was being honest and needed her to know as well, they were in this together and Alex, he just wanted Jo back and them talking about their future.

@callmeevilspawn

You build a dream; a fantasy of the reality you want. When it came to thinking about her parents she always wondered. What they looked like? What job they had? Jo always had questions she craved to get answers to. Jo made up a dream version of her mother and father. And when that dream breaks it destroys you. 

Jo didn’t expect to ever go after her mother. She never thought she needed to. She was abandoned at two weeks old. She was left out to dry. Her mother thought leaving her at a fire station meant she’d be okay. That it didn’t make her more selfish then she was. Jo took the abandonment with a gain of salt. Once she was an adult she stopped wondering; she told herself she didn’t care. But then she was married; a place Jo never thought was possible. But she found love; she loved Alex so much. And he wanted kids; she wanted to build a family with him. But the fear that she came from a crazy genes is what triggered her; made Jo follow the lead to find her mother. She didn’t know what to expect. But she definitely didn’t think she’d find herself frozen altering her own life. 

That day; the day she sat across from her mother haunted her mind. It changed how Jo saw herself. Learning she was a product of rape; she was a child that her dad forced himself upon her mom. That’s why Ruth could barely look at her; she was tapping her hands against the table avoiding eye contact. She told her honest answers; some Jo wasn’t prepared to hear. It was the way she showed no care or emotion for her. Jo was so excited and nervous and now she felt broken. Like her vision of parents was non-existent. Jo was quiet; she wanted to feel nothing. Of course Alex asked how it went; and all she said was okay before going stone cold. Jo was distant, she was stuck in her own mind. 

She didn’t eat; she cried herself to sleep. She drank too much; she was getting dangerous; she put vodka in her water bottle barely finding the function to work. She lashed out at the man she loved. She pushed Alex away to where he didn’t want to come to loft; the place they lived. 

She was moody; she was lifeless almost. Jo wanted to debate letting go to make the pain stop. But she also wanted to get back the life she had; the happy place she at before seeing her mother. She wanted to be the wife Alex deserved She wanted to be the surgeon she once was. But the thought of going back to happy felt so hard. She was hiding herself; she was trying to breathe again. Tonight he came back; and she felt like the air returned to her body. That she could breathe again. Jo never intended on telling him; she wanted to keep this broken piece of herself hidden. But one glance; she saw the way he stood at ta distance and she broke. 

She said the words; that sounded crazy. Sounded like Jo didn’t sleep enough. But she was disgusted with herself. All she wanted was to feel whole again. Of course Alex was going to tell her how it was. Her mother didn’t matter, but she did to her. Feeling the weight of the bed shift under her; Jo arched her eyes towards the man she loved. Rolling over onto her side she leaned into his arms. Wanting to feel something; feel like she was capable of loving him again. 

“ You don’t understand. I dreamed about meeting her for so long. And when I did she wanted nothing to do with me. Because of what he did. I know I’m crazy for wanting to feel loved by her. But she’s my mom.” Nonsense and crazy is what the brunette felt like. Leaning her head into his shoulder she let eyes shut feeling a bit lighter; knowing she wasn’t harboring a secret. 

“ You make it sound so easy Alex..” Humming the comment; she took him in; holding onto the sound of his heartbeats.

[syncrovoid-presents]

I will continue being gone for a few days, sadly my original al plan of releasing the newest chapter of The Consequence Of Imagination's Fear has also been delayed. My apologies

Can't go into detail because its hush hush not-legally-mentionable stuff but today is my fifth 12 hour no-break work day. I'm also packing to move too in a fortnight (which is a Big Yahoo!! Yippee!! I'll finally have access to a kitchen!! And no more mold others keep growing!!! So exciting!!!)

[senseiwu]

Just saw a video where someone mentioned reading the curious incident of the dog in the night time, and they thought afterwards they may have autism too. When they brought it up to their mum, she was like "you knew??" cause apparently she'd done that thing people seem to do where they keep an autism diagnosis secret from their kids

It made me remember when my grandma gave me that book to read when we were all at her place for Christmas. She said something like "I think you'll really like it", which confused me cause I was more into fantasy stuff than mystery novels. I mean. I did really like it. But it's one of the things that makes me wonder... did my parents do that thing too...?

[hecksupremechips]

Starfire teen titans my best friend Starfire id burn alive for you

[dekuneho]

reason ☆ ( thirdyear!katsuki x reader ) suggestive — your boyfriend breaks up with you, and katsuki doesn’t waste opportunities

The first fact Class 1-A learns about you is that you have a boyfriend.

Well — had. And now you’re third years, and it’s safe to say that you should’ve broken up long ago.

You had him since middle school, but they never met him. Your dynamic shifted from the perfect picture of high school sweethearts to something more toxic since you got into UA — 1-A, no less. Yuusei didn’t pass the UA exams and called you insensitive for asking him to come meet your ‘fancy hero friends’ while he was from some low-profile school, and back when you had sympathy for him, it was difficult to be peeved at his blatant jealousy. He had a compelling, teary face.

“That’s called manipulative,” Sero says.

“He was really insecure,” you confess. Not that it makes it any better. He was manipulative because he was insecure — but that wasn’t all. He’d been that way long ago. There was a different turning point.

Kirishima gives a gentle, understanding pat on the back. “We were busy enough as it is. But now we’re about to graduate; of course you started thinking more about your future.”

“And you got the perfect ending — a future without him!” Ashido cheers to that. You take a long, long, victorious sip.

Right. After your breakup, you phoned Ashido about it, unaware that she was out with the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t like you were on speaker. Ashido gasped and shrieked, and the rest continued in her apartment, bottles of fancy wine that probably came from Bakugou lined up on the table.

Bakugou had been silent the entire time, sitting on the far edge of the couch across yours. You didn’t even think he’d come along. He’d always been coldly indifferent when it came to anything related to Yuusei. He doesn’t offer a single word; you expected him to call you stupid for dragging it this long when you entered the room. He just stared, ruby tracing your every step.

“So? What made you snap?” Kaminari asks, nestling into the cushion beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You feel like a prey as Bakugou’s gaze holds on Kaminari’s arm for a moment too long. “What shit did he pull this time?”

Bakugou had been the reason for your breakup, and it almost feels like he knows exactly that.

Yuusei despised him. Bakugou is the physical embodiment of everything Yuusei failed to be, and you were friends with him. It really didn’t help that Bakugou has an ego and can back it up; Yuusei didn't have either.

Yuusei was in a heated argument with a classmate, and you got irritated by his voice drowning out even your music at the loudest volume. So you got up, buried your feet in your outside shoes, and glanced back.

“Hey, I’m going out.”

Yuusei was already having an awful day, and came the bottled-up aggression that made him spit in seething venom: “What, don’t tell me you’re going out to fuck Bakugou behind my back again?”

You paused from where you had been tugging your jacket sleeves up your arms. And then, unadulterated fury. The rest is history.

But that’s embarrassing to admit to your friends. They’d ask why Yuusei would even bring Bakugou up — why he is even a recurring argument in your relationship. It wasn’t just Yuusei that was the problem. Somewhere buried deep that Yuusei could feel was your shame, the one that knew Yuusei wasn’t just threatened by Bakugou because of one thing.

“He was having a bad day,” you say instead, and the mendacious excuse slips so easily. Back then, you thought it was because you needed to defend Yuusei; now, it was because you feared them also knowing the truth. “And I realized I just couldn’t — uh, anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido agree together.

Bakugou finally shifts from where he’d been unmoving, ducking down to fill his glass. “‘least you learned your fucking lesson.” His gaze flicks up; the intensity makes you feel so shameful. It coils in your gut. “Forget the losers who can’t handle themselves. Go for the best.”

Coming from him. Is he flirting? This has to be flirting, right? Every word he says feels so charged, blatant with intent.

“Whoa, fresh on the market and you’re already saying that? Give it a few months, at least,” Kaminari laughs, followed by some, but you and Bakugou aren’t laughing. You’re stuck in this weird staring competition — looking away feels like admitting defeat. Feels like you’d straight up confess that yes, it’s you! You’re the fucking reason why!

“Yeah,” you mutter, though you’re not sure if it’s in response to Kaminari or Bakugou’s. You drag on another sip but feel as sober as a judge. You feel like you’d need ten more before you could even deal with whatever shit Bakugou is pulling.

“Cheer up, baby,” Mina coos. “You know you’re a catch. Yuusei will know exactly what he lost.”

“I don’t care about him anymore,” you say, which is the complete truth. “I’m getting shitfaced because I feel like I’m about to make a very bad decision.”

“Um?” Kirishima voices worriedly. “Do we need to take you somewhere?”

Bakugou stands abruptly, jingling his car keys in between his fingers. “Come on.”

“Are you drunk?” he asks before you can even pretend to open your front door.

“I only smell like it, but I really am too clear-headed for this,” you swear.

The moment he pins you to the wall and buries his mouth into yours, you know you are gone. This is what Yuusei had been fearing, what you’d been hiding — and fuck, it feels so good. He kisses like he’s starving like he’s been holding back for as long as you are. The shame comes spilling out soon after.

“I just got broken up with,” you say in a futile attempt to ease your guilt. “Hey — Katsuki, do you even—”

“I know what I’m doin’,” he says, mouthing over where your jaw and neck meet. "I know you want me."

“God, this is so fucked up,” you say, trailing off in a whine that really says a lot about you. “I’m an asshole. You’re really good at kissing — Katsuki—”

“Try three years of patience and tell me again what’s more fucked up,” Katsuki rasps, breath searing a mark on your skin, inciting a shudder that came down from your toes to your dizzy head.

“You were waiting for Yuusei and me to break up?”

“I get what I want.” Katsuki pauses, his eyes flicking up, arresting yours for a breath. “And he was a dick. Was bettin’ since year one.”

You curl a strand of his untamed hair, unwittingly charmed. “Sorry for making you wait.”

He responds by capturing your lips in a kiss, prying your mouth open with his, licking in, biting, pulling, grinding, and —

Katsuki softens his hold on your hips, pushing off. “Hey.”

You pant. Wow, you think, lightheaded, you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that well. “Hey,” you exhale over his mouth.

Katsuki bears his forehead heavily down on yours. “This isn’t some one-night stand rebound bullshit, you hear me? I didn’t wait three years just to get my dick wet — we’re doin’ this shit, got that?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “You’re the best of all of them, right?”