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lavenderspence · 4 months

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To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other.

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started.

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds.

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost.

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain.

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go.

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair.

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true.

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list.

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone.

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment.

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?”

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him.

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest.

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico.

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other.

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped.

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking.

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes.

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been.

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside.

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore.

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud.

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did.

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him.

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her.

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough.

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking.

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt.

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more.

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again.

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say.

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight.

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight.

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him.

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive.

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends.

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in.

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take?

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared.

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you.

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote.

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num.

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same.

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card.

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again.

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused.

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different.

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit.

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy.

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years.

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt.

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown.

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place.

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly.

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one.

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth.

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness.

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine.

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both.

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt.

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled.

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him.

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed.

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that.

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time.

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out.

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure.

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn.

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly.

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over.

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did.

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see.

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over.

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out.

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them.

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms.

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation.

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now.

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned.

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth.

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet.

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face.

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry.

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined.

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to.

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him.

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment.

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of.

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes.

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own.

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much.

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline.

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head.

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him.

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other.

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand.

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent.

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in.

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again.

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice.

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it.

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto.

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head.

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering.

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to.

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became.

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace.

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it.

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real.

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple.

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?”

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss.

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you.

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time.

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy.

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process.

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices.

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived.

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours.

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go.

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching.

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together.

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered.

“I love you.”

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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funlovinzara · 2 months

Text

Monster trio rejecting you head-cannons (Fem reader)

warnings: Angst

Luffy

Completely Oblivious

Doesn’t know when to stop talking, he gets scolded but he doesn’t know what the heck he even did.

Forgets about it in the next 5 minutes

You were fooled at first

“Well yeah i like you too y/n!”

“Like….like-like?”

“Yeah! I like-like everyone!”

“As in love? Do you love anyone? Romantically?”

“Ro…mantically? Ion know what means.”

He didn’t notice your brightness faltering. There was no point in the cat and mice chase, he doesn’t like you like that. You were found sitting in your room contemplating by Nami, you had to confess the situation and no matter what they could do, Luffy wouldn’t understand. As if he didn’t want to understand.

Sanji

A little disgusted

Tries playing it off in the nicest manner

Avoids you but not too much

You thought you had a very high chance because sanji would also flirt back, but hes like that with every woman.

“You mean like as in..love?”

“Yeah, you’re the nicest person i’ve met on this journey.”

“Oh….thats really sweet y/n. Honestly, my heart belongs to another.”

“Huh? But you’ve always flirted-.”

“Im just showing respect.”

“So what if i was Nami or Robin??”

“Obviously i love them, you’re just a little different you know? I mean i’ve known them longer than you.”

“So you were just playing me?”

“Don’t call it that y/n, i was just being kind.”

You didn’t have anything else to say, there was nothing else to say. You walked off trying to forget because really what was arguing going to do? Smack some sense into him? Hes already being swatted on the head everyday by Nami and turned down by Robin everyday, so it’s clear that nothing will work. It would be better to keep this to yourself.

Zoro

He looks stern, but hes a little flustered as a natural reaction

Unlike Luffy and Sanji, he never speaks to you again.

Even if your assigned groups to explore a certain island he doesn’t speak to you

“You like me?”

You nod your head out of pure second hand embarrassment, you knew this wasn’t gonna be good from the start.

“Y/n.”

You lift your head and he looks at you, you cant tell if he’s disappointed or disgusted. Probably disappointed.

“You know i have a goal.”

You didn’t respond, standing there in silence waiting for him to speak again.

“Im trying to be the greatest swordsman, i cant have things in my way, especially love.”

He walks away from you and that was the last time you guys have ever spoken. You guys were originally close beforehand, you would both laugh at the stupidity of the other crewmates and sometimes walk around certain towns together. But all that stopped, for you it felt like an end of an era. For him, felt like a tiny poke from a tack. He forgot in the next few days.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #angst #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #one piece angst #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d. luffy #luffy #zoro #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #zoro roronoa x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #monkey d luffy x reader

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ilsanslut · 10 months

Note

you said male reader and I appear

boo

anyway, I’d love for your fave blue lock boys getting spanked by male reader

and I disappear now

꒷♡꒷ HIT ME, BABY!

♰ featuring: kaiser michael. shidou ryusei. [blue lock + separate]

♰ note: when i saw this pop up in my ask box i JUMPED into my desk chair with the most devious laugh ever LIKEE the joker could never. anyway, here are my baby boys getting their asses handed to them, as well as my first-ever male!reader work. (honestly i might make this into a lil series because i literally love too many blue lock characters-) enjoy!

sypnosis: naughty boys deserve to get spankings. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. masc/male-bodied!reader. dominant/top!reader. bratty bottoms. minor dub-con? (kaiser). forced masturabation (kaiser). spanking. one cock-stepping moment (shidou). masochism (shidou). ryusei has daddy issues. one-time usage of the word ‘daddy’ (shidou). hair-pulling. cursing. degradation. punishments w/ no actual penetration. ꒷꒦

MICHAEL KAISER.

There were numerous things that irritated you about your teammate Kaiser: his superiority complex, the way he talked down to others who he saw as inferior, his inhuman skill that rivaled some of our generation's greatest, and his ridiculously good looks. But you had no idea how you of all people had become his number one target on his shitlist. It began cordially enough—or as cordial as you could be when dealing with Kaiser—but things quickly devolved into vile territory. He would annoy you to no end, from bumping into you in the hallway to stealing your towels as you were getting out of the shower, to making patronizing comments about you during practice, and even enabling his lapdog Ness to steal the ball from you during what should have been obvious goals at your games.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, so you knew he was taking extra time in the shower to get rid of the hard work he had done today to make your life as miserable as possible. You headed for the showers, which were nearly empty, but for one in the middle, front and center, fit for an emperor, with the curtain closed and the water running. You heard the faintest tune hummed in German from behind the curtain, and, without warning, you fisted the curtain in your hand and snatched it open. Panic overcame Kaiser's handsome face as he saw you, his eyes widening in response to being leered at in his most vulnerable state. There was a fleeting look of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smug glare and a pinch of his eyebrows.

“R-Really, Y/N?” Even with the sneer in his tone, you could tell it was merely a ploy to cover up the tremble in his voice. “I didn’t take you for the perverted type who—”

You did not even wait for him to finish before stepping into the shower yourself, unconcerned about getting soaked while still fully clothed, and snatching the curtain closed behind you. Seeing the look of a silent fury twisting your features, Kaiser’s expression dropped. However, before he could attempt to make a break to safety, you were shoving him against the ceramic walls cheek-first while your body and sheer mass pinned him there from behind. He grunted, struggling against your overwhelming strength as your forearm pinned itself across his shoulder blades, firmly pinning him there.

“W-What are you doing?! Get off of m—”

You silenced him with a sharp swat to his, surprisingly, bubbly ass, the sound of the hit echoing off the walls around you two, and effectively quarreling whatever rebuttal he was about to spew your way.

“I’ve had enough of your shit, Kaiser.” You snarled, emphasizing your words with two well-placed smacks on both of his ass cheeks, making him yelp with each one. You held him taut, fisting the back of his dyed hair and pulling his head back until his ear was right next to your lips. Even then, you could see the faintest trace of horror and what looked like yearning in his wide, blue eyes. For what? You didn’t know, nor did you care, right now.

“You berate me on the field—”

SMACK.

“Thrownin’ off my obvious fuckin’ goals—”

SMACK.

“And stick your dumb little lapmutt onto me, just because you know you can’t devour me on your own—!”

SMACK. SMACK

Kaiser’s teeth were gritted as he tried to hold back his sharp grunts and ill-timed moans, but no sound could be hidden from your ears within the confines of the echoing chamber. You gave him the briefest moments of reprieve, groping his abused cheeks in your large palm as your hand shook with poorly contained malice. Your hand that was in his hair jerked his head back more, pulling him slightly off of the wall so that you could peer over his shoulder, only to confirm your suspicions that yes, Kaiser was hard, and yes he was getting off to this.

“Dirty bitch,” You snarled in his ear amidst your amused chuckle. “Are you really getting off to this? Getting your pretty lil’ cock hard over being spanked like a disobedient slut you are in the showers, huh?”

“O-Oh, fuck you, Y/N. I am not—AH~!”

Kaiser let out a high-pitched, sultry squeal as you gave him another well-earned smack on his ass, feeling the pleasure shoot through his veins and making his cock jump. His face was flushing red, just like his posterior, and it was not from the heat from the shower.

“Yeah?” You breathed haughtily in his ear. “Go on then, jerk your cock for me, baby. I know a desperate thing like you is just aching to cum all over these walls, aren’t you?”

His fists balled at his sides as his teeth gritted against one another, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of letting you have your way. You merely clicked your tongue at his behavior, releasing his grip on his hair to instead wrap your large palm around his throbbing shaft and pump him yourself instead.

Grasping at your shorts with one fist to maintain balance, he choked on his own groans, his knees weakening as his body shook against your powerful one. He twisted around in your grip, trying to struggle free from your sneaky fingers, but it was no use.

“Y-Y/N, you f-fucking, ngh! S-Stop that!” He spat half-heartedly, despite the fact that his hips were practically fucking themselves into your deft digits.

You didn’t respond to him verbally, instead giving him another smack on the ass, just to witness his hips jolt and his cock twitch in your palm, drawing a sadistic cackle from your lips.

“What kind of whore gets off on being spanked, huh? You some kind of masochist of somethin’, Micha’?”

He didn’t reply—he couldn’t reply. His vision blurred and his mind went numb from the pleasure of having his rival fist his cock and dominate him completely when he was at his most vulnerable. He looked so pretty like this, with his hues rolled behind his half-lidded lids, his jaw dropped and gaping to release a steady string of moans, a line of drool pooling from his lips while his cheeks flushed a deep red from the humiliation of it all—he was perfect.

His groans grew shrill, and, before you knew it, he was utilizing your body as a rock to stay upright while his legs trembled under him. In an instant, hot, thick ropes of sticky cum spewed from his throbbing shaft and over himself and the shower walls. His body convulsed in your hand as a barrage of obscenities and things you could not make out in German fell from his lips. You laughed at him, cackled at his humiliation, the exact same way he would do to you when he would knock you down.

You didn’t stop there. You continued to pump his cock until he was well into overstimulation and fighting to escape your grasp. He eventually triumphed over you with a forceful shove, sending you reeling a few paces behind him as his weakness caused him to fall to the ground. There on his knees, he gazed up at you, his lips parted and panting, his semi-hard cock twitching languidly against his thigh, his pupils blown wide. He was a beautiful wreck, and it was all your fault.

“Yeah, nah.” You huffed, observing how his unfocused eyes suddenly widened and his lips drew in a sharp gasp as he watched you reach into your shorts with a near-feral grin on your face.

“I’m not finished with you, yet.”

RYUSEI SHIDOU

You know what happens when you feed a gremlin after midnight? That was Ryusei, except every day and 24/7. So much so that he was frequently a well-deserved victim of Blue Lock’s “Anti-Riot” electric shock. Today was one of those instances where, once again, Ryusei and Rin couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the field, leading to the two getting into a physical altercation initiated by the former. This time, they both were electrocuted, but instead of having additional staff handle Ryusei, you effortlessly scooped the male up and over your shoulder, walking off of the practice field with him. No one else on PXG dared to question it, not even Julian Loki, who just watched on with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

You made your way to the locker room, kicking the door open with your foot before setting Ryusei’s semi-conscious and lethargic form down on one of the benches against a set of lockers. Picking up a stray water bottle, you aimed the nozzle at your boyfriend before squeezing mercilessly, allowing a continuous spray of water to pelt against the blonde’s face. He gasped and spluttered as he awoke with a start, using his coughs to try and resist your water assault.

“Y/N?! W-What the hell is your problem? Cut that shit out!” He all but snarled at you, spitting some of the water out of his mouth.

Releasing your grip on the bottle, you stared at him impassively, thoroughly unamused by both his behavior and his language. Using the collar of his shirt to wipe his face, Ryusei took a moment to get his bearings and realized that the two of you were in the locker room and not on the field.

“. . . What happe—”

“You know exactly what the fuck happened, Ryusei.” Your sharp tone cut him off, your eyes narrowing on his now-widened fuschia ones. He looked a bit taken aback by your tone, but as he took in your demeanor and the way you were sitting with your elbows on your knees while glowering at him through your lashes, he understood that you were pissed at him.

“We talked about this, Ryu. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you get, you can’t just start swinging on your teammates whenever they annoy you!” You berated him, standing up now as you threaded your hands through your hair in exasperation.

All the while, your boyfriend sat there, scratching at his ear with his pinky and blowing off the excess nonchalantly as though you were boring him.

“Jeez, this is why you brought me here? You’re starting to sound like my old man.”

You paused, hands dropping by your sides as you felt a vein pulsating just above your eyebrow.

Is he serious right now?

Ryusei stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and assuming his usual slouching stance. His lips were pulled into a frown, and his expression was uninterested, as if he couldn’t care less about what you were saying right now.

Taking a step closer to you, he would say, “Y’know, lecturing me isn’t going to do either of us any good, babe. I’m going to continue to do my own thing, and you’re going to continue doing yours. There is no need to waste any of our breaths.” A sly, joker-like grin formed on his face, a hand leaving his pocket to rise to your face, rudely flicking a strand of hair above your eye, “Kapeesh?”

You were silent, fists balled by your sides, as you resisted the urge to strangle the forward where he stood. Taking your silence as compliance, Ryusei rolled his eyes and began to stroll out of the locker room, done with the conversation. That is, if you had not prevented his departure by lunging your fist forward and balling up the back of his shirt from behind. On instinct, the blonde whipped around with the intention of landing one of his infamous kicks on the side of your head, which you easily countered by grabbing the front of his shirt in one hand and his face in the other and slammed him down onto the floor.

Like a hyena trapped in a poacher's net, he struggled fiercely beneath you, hissing, spitting, biting, and snarling at you. But you persisted in your silence, pressing harder with your hand on his jaw until you were forcefully smushing his cheek against the ground, forcing him to finally submit under your brute strength. The two of you lay there for a while, Ryusei panting heavily beneath you and you glowering him down with every inch of your being, before it was you who broke the silence.

“I’m sick of your shit, Ryusei.” For emphasis, you pressed down harder on his face, relishing in the whimper that emitted from his lips while you did so. “Talking about how I ‘sound like your old man’, well, maybe I should act like him and knock some fuckin’ sense into you, huh?”

Ryusei’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, full of indignation and trepidation, but you were unyielding.

“ . . . Do it, pus—”

You didn’t hesitate to give him a quick pop on the mouth to shut him up, much to his astonishment. Before he could react, you captured fistfuls of his spiked locks in your hand, dragging him over to the benches until you could sit down and lug your 185cm boyfriend over your muscular thighs. As the reality of the situation began to settle in on him, he immediately began to struggle as a slew of curses spat from his scowling brims. However, you quickly subdued him by pinning the wrist that was farthest from you behind his back and your own leg over the back of his calves, preventing him from moving anywhere.

“Y-Y/N, you can’t be serious!”

And you were. Without a word to him, your dominant hand rose into the air before delivering a swift swat to his rear. You didn’t hold back either, knowing that with his blue lock body suit and practice uniform on, the blow was well-cushioned. Ryusei lurched on your lap, his free hand dragging his blunt nails against the bench with a startled cry. His jaw clenched, extending his free arm as far as it could go before bringing it back unforgivingly to jab it into your side.

“Let me go, you fucking sadistic bastard!”

Sadistic, huh? You seized the top of his shorts and the bottom of his bodysuit in one swift motion, yanking them down his toned thighs to expose his equally caramlized cheeks. You struck his cheeks with a series of enraged blows, striking each one with a hard spank from your thick, callused hands. In an instant, his ass was turning a vivid red, and instead of attempting to resist you, he was concentrating on preparing for each of your relentless blows. However, your pace was unpredictable. Some swats were fast and in rapid succession of the latter, while others were slow and calculated, almost as though you were trying to soothe the skin in between hits. It was abundantly evident that you were trying to teach him a lesson and venting your anger toward him. Aside from the occasional grunt or whimper from your now-silent boyfriend, this was the quietest you had heard him all week.

You gave your boyfriend a moment of respite, making sure he had not fainted on your lap. You massaged his sore ass in your palm while releasing his limp arm to grab his hair and pull his head back so you could look him in the eye.

Ryusei's normally keen eyes were now unfocused and brimming with tears, rolling into the back of his head; his cheeks were flushed a fierce red, smeared with the few tears that had escaped his eyes; and his pink lips were parted, gasping as strands of crystalline drool pooled over his bottom lip.

You had ruined him.

“Oh, Ryusei. . .” You cooed mockingly, bringing both of your hands to his face to cup his cheeks gently. As you gently shook his face back and forth to get him to focus on you, he sank to his knees between your thighs. “C’mon, pretty boy. Stay w’me.”

It took a moment, but you could finally see the life resorting in his fuschia hues, just as you felt something sticky on your calf. Glancing past the ruined face of your boyfriend, you discovered that his slender cock was hard and pulsating, its red tip drooling with pre as it adhered to your leg and soaked a tiny puddle in the material of your bodysuit. Poor mutt. He had been so turned on by this that he nearly came right into your lap, and you hadn’t even realized it.

Then it hit you. That’s why he had gone quiet—not because he was focusing on prepping himself for your swats, but because he was focusing on trying not to cum.

“Aren’t you just pathetic, Ryu? Nuthin’ more than a dumb painslut who only thinks about fighting and getting a nut off.”

His brows furrowed from your degrading words, but he couldn’t help the way his cock jumped against your calf from having you be so, so mean to him.

“You wanna get off? Wanna cum all over your pretty self, hm?”

He gave a desperate nod, babbling out whatever few unintelligible words his stupid mind could manage, but they seemed to be in needy plea to cum. With a maniacal smile on your face, you violently wrenched your partner away from you while he looked up at you with those wide, desire-filled eyes.

“Y-Yes, fuck. Y/N please. .”

You silently moved your leg between his knees, pressing the top of your cleats against his balls, observing as he practically doubled-over your leg with a high-pitched whine, his cheek pressed against your knee as his arms wrapped around your calf. Already, his thighs were quivering around your foot as he tried not to cum right then and there from the stimulation.

“Fuck yourself on my shoe, Ryusei.” You demanded, watching as he gawked at you incredulously, but your expression was unchanging. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” You quipped, folding your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow at him, to which he nodded desperately once more. “Then hump my leg like the dirty mutt you are.”

With a muffled groan, he did as you demanded of him, albeit with a slight bit of hesitation. He made sure he was situated well enough, the underside of his cock pressed up against your laces as he gave a few testing thrusts of his hips, each one brushing against your shin every time. He gradually increased his speed before descending into complete degeneracy. Desperate to chase his release that had been building over time, he was fucking himself against your leg while huffing, panting, grunting, and groaning. Your partner, possessed by his untamed desire, was drooling over your thigh while you watched from above. Your own cock twitched in your shorts as you admired the already fucked-out and near pornographic expression on his face.

Aiding the little masochist further, you leaned over him to place yet another swat against his reddened ass, causing a cry of pleasure and pain to emit from his lips and his hips to sputter against you.

“You like being spanked like this, don’t you, painslut?” You growled into his ear, causing a high-pitched whine to sound from his drooling brims.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Hit me more! Ngh, p-please, Daddy!”

You hissed, your cock straining against the tight confines of the bodysuit you were trapped in, but you did not touch yourself just yet. This was about Ryusei, not you, after all.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess over Daddy’s leg? Gonna cum all over his cleats? Hm, baby?”

“Hah, sh-shit! Yes, yes, yes! I-I’m gonna—mm’fuck~! C-Cum!”

A sadistic grin arose on your features, swatting another well-placed smack on his ass before leaning back on the bench, glowering down at Ryusei from over your nose. His fucked-out gaze could barely meet your own as the movement of his hips grew sloppy and his thighs quivered around your leg from the way you looked at him. He huffed, panting and drooling against your thigh as a slew of curses escaped his lips—he was close.

However, before he could enjoy the sweet, sweet euphoria of finally reaching his high, your hand threaded itself into his locks, peeled him off of you, and pushed him back into an opposing bench behind him. Ryusei gawked at you, utterly dumbfounded, as he slouched back against the bench, processing what had just happened. His cock, which was an angry red and throbbing, twitched against his thigh, thoroughly messy with pre. It took a moment, but his surprise soon gave way to frustration, and his face twisted with rage. Did you really just deny him?

“Y-Y/N, what the fu—”

“—Did you seriously think that you deserved to cum after the shit you pulled both on the field and in here, huh, Ryusei? Oh, don’t tell me you forgot that this was a punishment, babe.”

At your faux pout and mocking tone, he went silent, his face burning with indignation as his lips pressed themselves into a thin line. His eyes, despite being clouded by desire, had the faintest hints of vexation and desperation in them, which you picked up on. You rose to your feet, laughing at Ryusei's angrily pleading gaze, still desperate for his release but enraged that you refused to give it to him.

You bent over at the waist, grabbing his jaw in your palm, forcing your heated gazes to meet.

“Clean yourself up and get your ass back on that field, Ryu—and don’t you dare touch yourself, got it?”

Ryusei did not say anything in response; he just stared at you with that same disgruntled expression on his pretty face. Before long, he nodded, albeit not without the faintest of pouts appearing on his lips as he did so. You leaned in and gave his disheveled brims a quick peck before straightening up once more.

“Good. Now, hurry up,” You ordered as you began to make your way out of the locker room, however, not without casting a salacious stare over your shoulder in his direction. He was watching you go with his fists balled at his sides, his eyes begging for you to come back and let you finish. You didn’t.

“Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Ryu. I’m dealing with you once practice is over.”

#blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk imagines #ryusei shidou #michael kaiser #michael kaiser smut #shidou smut #ryusei shidou smut #blue lock x male reader #bllk x male reader #i suck at writing endings pls god dont perceive me #vampiiebitez #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader

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punkpandapatrixk · 6 months

Text

💝Valentine & White Day Love Transmission ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

In Japan and Korea, Valentine's is when femmes give gifts to hommes; and exactly a month after that, on March 14th, the hommes return that Love with white (preferably) gifts that are expected to be at least three times the value/price of whatever gifts they’d received from the femmes😏

Traditionally it’s kinda like that. Hmmm… isn’t it obvious the celebration has never had quite any meaning in a country such as Japan and that the festivity is nothing more than a heavily-commercialised youth-tradition focused on the pursuit of shallow material desires?🤮

But…I guess it’s OK; because it’s cute anyway🥴

Within the context of this reading, the Valentine and White Day Love Transmission imparts the perfect synchrony of the Love shared by the Divines Feminine and Masculine. It is when affection is given and returned in Love and everything becomes beautiful and worth living for~💝

SONG: Space Orphans by Aoba Ichiko

MOVIE: Peter Pan (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Don’t give up just yet; I’m on my way!

8 of Cups Rx, 4 of Pentacles Rx, Knight of Cups Rx

Darling, are you on the precipice of giving up on me?! Do NOT settle for someone—ANYONE—who’s NOT me! OMG, babe! I’m coming! Divine Timing is just being a bitch but I’m on my way to you!🦎Well, the thing is…we both have this annoying thing called a spiritual transformation… Until that’s happened—and nearly completely—we can’t be together just yet. But wait, I promise you it’s all worth it in the end🎁

I mean, why wouldn’t you wait for someone like me? I’m romantic; kind and sweet; I AM RICH; and I will always be there to protect you—I intend to always be your confidant and best friend🥰I will never betray you in any way. I’m your best friend who will skip right next to you on our way to beat up a bitch; figuratively, babe—I’m not really the type of person who gets violent LOL

What I do mean is, I want to give you a Life in which you cease to worry about small things. I want it to be that when you’re with me you no longer worry about a lack of means, a lack of warmth, or a lack of security. You’re somebody who deserves to be loved and to be very happy; and I want to give it all to you. And that’s why it’s important for me to become the best version of myself first😝

I’ve got to admit I’ve not always been the nicest, goodest person to have walked on Earth. I’m changing my ways, you know. I’m growing up; I’m developing; I’ve now been awakened and I’m still working on me, so that when I finally meet you, I will not disappoint you. Because I will never want to be a reason you stopped believing in the good of people😤I intend to be the complete opposite of that.

Fall in love with me, my dear. Fall in love with Life again when you meet me. Life is an adventure and finding me has got to be the greatest story ever told. I’ll tell you all of my crazyass stories when we meet. And I’m longing to hear you talk of your losses and triumphs. We’ll both gaze at the stars and wonder how they aligned to have us meet in this lifetime. I will be so grateful.

You know, generally speaking, I’m somewhat of an extrovert and I socialise well and I think quite positively about people. Maybe you will worry that I’m a playa of sort but right now, let me promise you this one thing: I’M NOT! I’m friendly, my love, but it doesn’t mean I wanna fuck somebody who’s not you. I dunno, I kinda have the handsome face of a smooth operator but on the inside, I’m really NOT!😩I’m really quite romantic and I believe in true love.

And honestly, at this point in my Life, I know you’re out there being all destined for me. You’re all I want. I’m on my way. So don’t you settle for any low-quality slob. Get ready, baby~ KNOCK KNOCK~🪄🚪

A LIFE WITH YOU, MY LOVE🔻❤️

Priestesses of Purity & Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Everybody finds Love in the end; you included~

Ace of Cups Rx, 7 of Cups Rx, 4 of Wands

My Dear, I know Life has not treated you too kindly and your heart’s been broken too many times. It’s been pretty much like that for me, too! I’ve lived a very lonesome existence, wondering where my people are. Wondering if I’ll ever find Love in this lifetime. I know now that those whose hearts are tender find it harder to truly connect with someone. We’re not BROKEN! No, we’re not! The ‘problem’ with us is that we crave soul-deep connections~ And damn, that’s rare, indeed🍀

You know what I’m doing right now? I’m single as a pringle. I’m not opening my heart to anybody. My colleagues all think I’m crazy, offbeat, and even difficult, just because I ain’t settling. Tch, I’m the only one noticing all of their subpar relationships, and some of them are not even the slightest bit happy with the partnership they’ve got. I don’t want that. For fuck’s sake I DON’T want that, ever! I’ve always had this strange, inexplicable feeling, that people are supposed to marry whom they love.

I want LOVE. I crave that shit so bad I dunno what I’m gonna do with myself🙈

One thing I know for sure though: if I’m not with you, you who are just like me, everything in the world is pointless. There is only calm in my world when I’m thinking of you. I don’t even know who you are; but I get optimistic every time I indulge in thoughts of finding you. I… fantasise a lot…?🌈Do you ever think about me? Does your heart bloom with a peculiar kind of softness when you touch upon my consciousness?💫

I am out here in this Star System. Dream of me. Want me more. And believe that we can manifest each other through resonance. We are so much closer than you fear us to be, my Dear. You have to believe in me. The Stars have begun to align and Earth’s temperature is nearing just right🍵Our time is here :D When dreams become Reality and all that’s ever been sad turn to glory, what would you do?

I know what you’re gonna do: you’re going to be married to me😝We’re going to start a new chapter of our lives together and be very happy and abundant. I’m gonna help you prove everybody who’s ever hurt you, gaslit you into believing that you’re hard to love very, very wrong😒All of that gas, when I light the match, is gonna burn their entire house down!🔥

OK, I’m a bit crazy, but anyway—

You do know that good people always find Love in the end, right? That’s just how it always is in fairy tales. You know fairy tales are more real than any of Hollywood’s propaganda, right?🐵Right??🙊I love you. I have loved you for what feels like an eternity. Return to me now. Come home to me, my Love. I am You; you are Me. We’re going to turn everything back to balance; we’re gonna create Heaven on Earth; a harmonious Life of you and me; so have faith in us~🎎

A LIFE WITH YOU, MY LOVE🔻💙

Priestesses of Integrity & Solitude

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You are someone’s Dream Come True; you ever thought about that??

9 of Cups, 2 of Cups, King of Cups

You, are someone’s Wish Fulfilment; you ever thought about that? No, of course not; you only thought about yourself and how lacking you are as a person blablabla😡Don’t you know there’s a little someone walking this Earth who’d be SO glad to have you in their Life? Yup, that someone is ME😏You are a treasure of a gal/boy and if you’ve been surrounded by fools who can’t see that, it’s because you’re meant to travel the world and meet me~!

Have a change of scenery; you aren’t meant to thrive and live and die on the land you were born. When you cross borders and seas and realms, you’ll meet people of other cultures and points of view who are going to be more appreciative of the good you’ve been mocked(?) for🥰I promise you, babe~ You are where you are (or were) only because it was part of your Soul’s contract to learn about contrasts.

When all’s said and done, you’re going to be THE most interesting person anybody could listen to!🍿I, for one, could listen to you aaalll week long if you ever want to HAHAHA

My heart right now is like half-full, babe; I’m still waiting for you to appear in my Life. You probably won’t like hearing this because you’re independent, and you’re strong, and rebellious, but… I want you to be mine!🌹I don’t mean that I wish to suffocate you, no, it’s not like that at all… What I mean is, I wish to be the only one who could make you happy, for that would make me feel special🌞

I know I’m silly, I’m sorry~🥰I want to bring stability and certainty into your Life; that much I can say with clarity, for surely, you and I, we’re going to be pouring into each other’s Cups. We’re gonna be the kind of couple who can read each other’s minds and burst out laughing when we see something only we find funny without even exchanging words😂All of that, because of shared empathy~

Honestly, I couldn't care less for all the treasures in the world; I only want you around. Maybe that makes me a romanticist? Hm, that word doesn’t quite encompass all the feelings I have for you. All the things I wish to share with you. All that I’d do for you. What I know is that this is no mere romance; I LOVE you, you know? It goes so much deeper than that🌊

I’m mature, nurturing and caring. Find me, my Love. I’ll nurse you back to health—spiritually and everythingally; I’ll be the reason your faith in Humanity is restored. Actually, it doesn’t even matter; I just want you to trust in me, see yourself through my eyes, see how wonderful of a being you are. I want you to trust in yourself. You’re so fucking special. You’re MY very special kind of Wish Fulfilment☃️

A LIFE WITH YOU, MY LOVE🔻💗

Priestesses of Love & Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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if-chaos-was-a-boy · 2 months

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intro to a slightly crazy dude:

STATUS:

@if-chaos-wasnt-a-boy

↳CALIX or…….calcium.cal.calcharo.bitch.funnydude.joker.boyfailure.hoe. whore.sillybilly.menace.givememorenicknamespls.

⟡age: 17

FUCKING CHAMPION OF ACHILLES @achilles-the-greatest

⟡Gender: Male

⟡Pronouns: He/him

⟡Birthday: April 1 [i was a joke from birth]

⟡Zodiac Sign: Aries

⟡Godly Parent: Eris/Discordia, Goddess of Discord & Strife

⟡Sexuality: Straight, bisexual as HELLLL

⟡Personality Type: ENTP [the CLOWN]

⟡Relationship Status: my fiancé and fiancée @itsyourboyezra and @of-course-im-the-winner

⟡Height: 6’1 (hormones go vroomvroom)

⟡Weapon of choice: Small Celestial Bronze Blade [I usually just rely on Charmspeak & Manipulation which is…not great]

⟡Fatal Flaw: Probably Hubris [im an attention whore]

⟡Lore: I was brought to Camp Half Blood after a very weird incident where me, a party pony and a cyclops managed to sneak onto a cruise. I’m spoiled to the core and an absolute menace. Call me funny, call me annoying, I’ll still be the life of the party.

Powers:

⟡Chaos Manipulation-I can aggravate hostile situations till point of conflict, or I can slowly reduce the amount of chaos present (but that’s not nearly as much fun)

⟡Negative Emotion Manipulation: Anger, envy,wrath, frustration can be ramped up for the maximum amount of chaos.

⟡Flight: Like my mother-Eris-I can manifest fully formed avian wings to aid me in battle [more likely in shenanigans]

⟡Minor Control Over Illusions: Able to manipulate the mist to produce sensory hallucinations or illusions

AN UNRIVALED SENSE OF HUMOUR

⟡Appearance: A PERMANENT SHIT-EATING GRIN, natural messy black hair that can never be gelled down, striking maroon eyes that kinda looks at your fucking soul. Super Lean, you can only see the muscle definition when I’m wearing that compression shirt.

⟡fun facts about meeeee:

-I peel chicken nuggets

-I’m ambidextrous

-I have a hyper fixation with collecting nomnoms

-I love blind bags, mystery boxes etc @syd-the-nerd is my lucky charm, I’ve gotten everything I’ve wanted from blind boxes ever since meeting him.

-I have a skincare routine [can’t look this great without it, babe] -My dad gives me his black card to go do heinous shit, he says it helps with tax deductions

-I’m obsessed with my girlie/plat

@that-girl-cupid (my ride or die, my best friend)

@chaos-pers0nified (best sister in the fking world)

@unhinged-waterlilly (she wildin )

@demigod-jack-hearth (op ahh, superhero)

@arisdaughter (relatable)

@hispanic-child-of-hermes (she intimidates me)

@bambi-the-dummy (SWEETEST GIRLIE ON THIS SIDE OF THE PLANET)

@love-lightning-forethought (legit my top 5 besties)

@debacleofdaemons / @iceweavercatlover [OOC I LOVE THIS GUY]

@daonedaonlyskh (actually the person with the sickest blog aesthetics)

@penelope-sato (my baby daughter)

@syd-the-nerd

@stephen-the-spider (Britney spears 😍😍)

@braydons-world (law student?????)

@of-course-im-the-winner (MY BEAUTIFUL FIANCÉE )

@fluffycows4life

@itsyourboyezra (my fucking FIANCÉ)

@apollos-favorite-child

@glee-of-ares-wrath-of-aphrodite

@thegroovydaughterofhestia

@the-haunt-brothers

@the-olympus-assassin

[HELP EXPAND THE LIST BY TALKING TO ME, I DONT BITE, IM JUST HIGH]

My adoptive parent: @steve-the-union-man

FACECLAIM:

[OOC]

Heyhey, mod is currently going by either she/her or he/him (honestly gender fluid questioning) and a pansexual

Also im a MINOR so no NSFW BITCH.

Fun fact I have eczema so im sleep deprived coz I had too much fun in bed…….SCRATCHING MY FLESH OFF.

#pjo rp #pjo roleplay #new oc #new oc alert #child of eris #introduction #intro post #pjo series

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atlabeth · 5 months

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now that the dust has cleared from the chaos for me irl, i want to officially thank you all for 3000 followers!! because wow. where do i even start?

this isn't a milestone i thought i would ever reach. i made this blog during my junior year of high school when i was bored as hell in online school, not knowing what would come of it, and honestly not expecting anyone to read anything i’ve written. i exclusively wrote avatar fics (kind of embarrassing that a series i started at the beginning of my blog still isnt finished huh?) because it was what i had been watching most recently. i started to gain some recognition, made some friends, and slowly but surely i carved out my little corner of the internet. and now, 3 years, 3000 followers, and almost 500,000 words later, i’m going into my junior year of college with some of the best online friends a girl could ask for (shoutout to my day 1 @simplysolo for still being around and still being the best ever, and shoutout to all my other tumblr friends that have deactivated over the years</3 i miss you guys) a whole array of fandoms that i’ve dabbled in, and a newly discovered thing for middle aged men. cool

i truly cannot thank you all enough. i’ve always been a writer, but this blog has given me a sorely needed creative outlet and made me more confident in my writing skills than ever. at the end of the day i’m just writing silly little x reader fics, but i’ve truly had so much fun doing it! every single fictional man im in love with is also in love with me isn’t that crazy!!!

a special, extended shoutout to the loveliest mutuals i’ve picked up over the years. i wouldn’t be half the writer i am and i wouldn’t have half as much fun on here without you all. @simplysolo for being around since the beginning and truly being the greatest person on this app, i love you intensely, @sokkadora for being another one of my ogs (we dont talk anymore but i see you every so often on my dash and you’re doing great!!) @mcallmestiles for being one of the first avatar fics i ever read, traitor encouraged me to be a better writer and i hope you’re doing well with your medical career!! @tangledinlove for being my most famous mutual, the kindest person in the world, and being brought together through the power of lockwood, @giyuji and @milkiane who are both inactive but who i have to tag because i love them and i hope they’re doing well; naomi you got me into the grishaverse and liane we were in the trenches of the stranger things revival together, @boneblushed for dealing with so much but still being phenomenal and lovely in every way, @tommymcartney for being so sweet all the time, my biggest cheerleader and encouraging my insanity in every fandom ive been a part of, @nghtwngs for being the only person who loses it over nikolai lantsov as much as i do, to all my new/more recent mutuals @hotchfiles @ma1dita @moowithmidnight @emiliehornby @supercutszns i can't wait to get to know or keep getting to know you!!! you're all so lovely!!! and all the mutuals i don’t talk to as much as i should, i love you all and cherish you in my heart regardless of if we talk every day or have never said a single word to each other!! i don’t want to tag you all because i don’t want to bother you, but if you’re looking at this and thinking am i talking about you, i am. i love you. it takes a village and im so lucky to have you all as mine

i can’t believe it’s been 3 years, i can’t believe i’m halfway done with college, and i can’t believe we hit 3,000. truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for reading my fics and letting me be some small part of your lives. i can’t wait to write more for you all. keep a lookout for my 3k celebration post!

#truly cannot thank you all enough <3 #i love my lil corner of the internet #sadie's 3k celebration

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zweetpea · 11 months

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Please don’t leave me alone!

(happy birthday my sweet angel)

Summary:

Fyodor my Baby 😭. This whole thing is very Tangled inspired. Tangled is art though so it’s all good 😌. Content warning: Self deprecating thoughts, Fyodor nearly dies. Some spicy implications at the end.

“Fyodor! I made you some tea!” You cheered from the doorway of his office. “Fyo… Fyodor… Fedya~” you whispered that last one seductively into his ear.

“Is my wife being needy?” He turns around and pulls you into his lap.

“No! I’m just going to miss you. Do you have to go on this stupid work trip and leave me alone?” You pouted.

“It’s for the greater good. You want the world to be free of sin don’t you?”

(A/N: greater good? I am your wife! I’m the greatest good you are ever gonna get!)

“I do. I know that by doing this peace will be brought to the world and we’ll be one step closer to bringing about a paradise for all mankind to cherish. Just please be careful love.”

“I will be, little mouse.” He smiled as he kissed your cheek.

The day he left he gave you a long passionate kiss on the lips.

“I love you Fyodor. I always will.”

“I love you too, little mouse. I will be back in a week’s time.”

That “one week” turned into two months. During which you cried yourself to sleep every night worrying to death about if he’d be okay. Some night you’d wake up in a cold sweat, have nightmares about him leaving you, him dying, him having an affair, him dying, him laughing to his friends about how stupid and pathetic and selfish you were, him dying! You had that one a lot. Various different ways popped into your head. Drowning, stabbing, beating, being shot, mauling, heart attack, an ability killing him.

On one fateful night though, you heard rustling coming from your basement. You went into the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and crept into the basement. You heard a voice coming from your husband’s office down their.

“Where’s the first ad? No no no! Don’t you go dying on me!”

You slowly slinked in, the lights off and the room only slightly illuminated by the many screens and monitors that adorned your husband’s desk. You tiptoed to the assailant and smacked him on the back of the head with your frying pan. You quickly ran to the light switch and flipped it on to see who had dared to enter your house.

“Fyodor? And a… clown? Wait… FYODOR! Your home! Oh no you’re bleeding!” You ran over to him, and chanted the incantation to unlock your special ability.

“Moonlight bright and pure, lend me powers divine. Give us second chance, let us have more time. Just a minute more, a second too would be fine. Please don’t leave me alone, give me back what’s mine. You once were mine.”

“Did you miss me that much?” He smirked.

You buried your head in his chest crying, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re right. You always are.”

“So since you have a new arm, can I keep the old one?” The other man said.

You both turned to him. “I’m sorry, who are you?” You ask.

“Little mouse, this is my work colleague, Nikolai.”

“So this is your wife. She’s very pretty. He talks about you so often, whenever he’s not talking about his plans he rambles about you. Honestly though, his descriptions of you don’t do you justice.”

“Nikolai, get out of my house.”

“What about the arm?”

“If it gets you to leave me alone with my wife then you can keep it.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll see you around.” Nikolai disappeared into his cape.

Fyodor stood up and pulled you with him. “Love be careful. You nearly died.”

He shushed your concerns with a kiss, it was passionate and you couldn’t help kissing back. “Come on. For two months I’ve failed to fulfill you. I plan to make up for it tonight.”

“Fedya!” You blush.

He chuckled. “I love you, mouse.”

“I love you, too.”

#bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevski #fyodor Dostoyevsky angst #fyodor fluff #Fyodor Dostoyevsky fluff #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor Dostoyevsky x y/n #Fyodor Dostoyevsky x you

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 6 months

Note

What are your opinions on each of the songs? (you can answer with as much or as little detail as you'd like)

Big shocker that the songs from the 2 good episodes are in S and the only one that isn’t is still B tier/sar

The first 2 songs in S made me either tear up/shake violently or cry, and therefore they deserve to be up there IMO. Out for love is also just genuinely catchy and had actual build up to it. Also God “Ready for This” just. OOUGGGHHH IT SCRATCHES MY BRAIN SO GOOD LIKE A WARRIOR CATS MAP. I like it a lot. You cant have multiple characters sing about working together and expect me to NOT cry.

“Stayed Gone” isn’t one I listen to often but it’s so peppy and fast and full of hatred I can’t help but enjoy it. Also everytime the song starts my brain does this

I dont know anything about Welcome Home

I have. Issues. With “Loser, Baby” but aside from those the song holds a lot more weight to it than I usually give it credit for. And for as cheesy as the start if it is, the line before of Angel talking about self destructing resonates with me a lot. Also Husk lays down in a puddle of vomit and no one talks about that ever.

I think the first song in B is “Happy Day in Hell” and I’m adding it there 1. Because it is the first song 2. It gets a reprise thing 3. Charlie almost gets hit by a truck. Other than that it’s not really my favourite but I respect the impact it has.

“Hell is Forever” just fucks. End of story. Alex Brightman killed it.

“Respectless” is good I love Velvette’s VA, but the sudden start of the song and the ending are so out of left field the first time me and my friends watched this show we had to pause cause we lost our fucking minds. Could’ve been better but I’d listen to it again, yeah.

“Hell’s Greatest Dad” is silly and funny and maybe I’m biased as a violin player and jazz enjoyer but a lot of the instrumental tickles my brain so nicely. I will say though it confuses me so much because why does Alastor care about being seen as a father figure?? My mom said it could just be him wanting to show up Lucifer and that’s it but I dunno.

“More than Anything (Reprise)” AKA “Charlie and Veggie Kiss Scene - Hazbin Hotel”

This song sounds like it’s straight out of Barbie & Th Diamond Castle and I’m honestly pissed the girls in the movie didn’t kiss so I’m coping with this. ALSO THE FACT ITS A REPRISED SONG ABOUT LOVE MAKES ME A BIT CRAZY. I never noticed this was the same song Lucifer sang to Charlie SOMEHOW but that’s actually really cute.

“It Starts With Sorry” Has a big part in Sir Pentious’s character growth and just his character in general. I’ve been working on this in my Pentious rant but I never see people mention how much this song probably meant to him. Yeah it’s super corny, but he was fully expecting to be killed and had just been told to kill himself. This was definitely huge for him and I’m not gonna be convinced otherwise.

“You Didn’t Know” is really good but Lute’s part is by far the best and I pray to GOD she gets her own song in S2 her voice actor can SING. GODDAMN! I am very interested in Lute’s character development and I love seeing what people do with close-minded characters like that and hopefully Vivzie doesn’t condemn her to Vivziepop Woman Syndrome. If she isn’t important in S2 I’m going to be pissed but I dunno maybe S3 if we get one.

“More Than Anything” Wish my dad was like this! This song is incredibly sweet and I appreciate it a lot. Honestly might go way higher on the list if I keep thinking about it.

“Whatever It Takes” Sorry you will never be Imagine Dragons. Vaggie doesn’t sound anything like herself cause her VA is making her voice so much more gruff for her character, which is fine! I like her voice (the voice direction is not very good but I digress) it’s just her voice is so high in this I can’t even tell it’s Vaggie.

“Welcome to Heaven” is boring, but we got a Molly cameo!

“Poison”. Read this and this and this. -10/10. I’d rather make out violently with Elon Musk.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #raimble #hazbin hotel song #hazbin songs #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel spoilers

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charmac · 2 months

Note

What was was experience like when you met Charlie? I’ve only met Glenn but I’m seeing Charlie this week and I’m nervous lol

Prepare yourself... because he is the most genuine celebrity I have ever met in my life, lmfao.

I honestly, confidently can say that there is no greater person to meet than Charlie Day. He really is exactly what you'd expect and then some.

I've met him a few times at this point so in terms of the experiences I've had, I'll direct you to this post from October and the day following that. I feel like I didn't explain too much of the context here, but basically he organically noticed me in the audience and stopped the on stage convo to ask me if I got the tattoo yesterday, which was really cool, and then after the panel he came up to me at the stage to sign my S10 DVD and then asked if there was anything else I wanted which was just so insane and then we went to the pop up bar and got a ton of free shots and what not. You can see my immediate thoughts after all of that:

The next week following was the NYC TASP live shows, and again he remembered me when he saw me at stage doors and came right up to say hi, which was awesome, and I talked to Mary Elizabeth separately too and she told me Charlie told her about the tattoo which is insane?? There were just a lot of small interactions those two nights between us that were really awesome, again just genuine shit.

March, again, so much shit happened that it would just be an essay to write out so I'll direct you to my posts about it from then, when I saw Charlie again after months and he immediately recognised me and remembered my name, then when he asked me for my input on the Mac and Dennis furniture situation (and agreed with me lol), and during that he took so much time with me like wayyy more than he should have lol, and then later that night at the bar was even more insane. I am not exaggerating when I say he spent a solid fifteen minutes just talking to us about Sunny. Like an insane amount of time where he was just this extremely genuine guy who was talking to us like we were friends just chatting about the show. I have never had that intimate of a conversation with anyone as famous as Charlie Day, and it was a real back and forth. Another ask regarding interactions with Charlie that night.

In summary, after meeting him I would lie my life down for that man anytime anywhere. It might be cringe to say but the days/nights I got to interact with Charlie are some of the greatest days of my life. Not just because of him, because there were a million other factors at play there, but he contributed largely to how fucking amazing my experiences at Sunny-related events have been.

AND I get being nervous, I am nervous every single time I meet any of them, but don't fret too much! I'm sure it will be a great night and I hope you have a ton of fun! He is the most chill, coolest, kindest guy I have ever met, and I hear that from sooo many other people too. Take photos and videos for us!

(And remember he will be in the writers room only a few days after you meet him... so plant some seeds... hah jk..)

#charlie day #ask #ik it sounds like im bragging here lol but like.#jfc man he is just awesome and i cant overstate that #OC

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saintmagx · 11 months

Text

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

Part 2

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso × reader (briefly)

AN: If you’d like tagged, let me know 💖

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity (if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn't follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ Said I’m fine but it wasn’t true, I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you ✨

The match was going off without a hitch, I had Charlotte in a headlock ready to execute my finisher when I’m taken down from behind by Rhea, the plan was for her to beat me down then escape through the crowd laughing and holding her title up high, I sold the beat down like a pro and the heat she was getting was phenomenal. Corey Graves and Michael Cole were doing their part on commentary making this look like a sickening attack, though as per his character Corey was doing his best to be a little shit that he is and side with the heel superstar. Smackdown ended with me out cold in the middle of the ring. What a way to kick off this rivalry.

Backstage, Gorilla

Back in the gorilla I’m met with hunter.

“Amazing job out there yn!”

“I’m afraid that was all Demi, I just followed her lead.”

A thick Aussie accent fills the gorilla.

“Nah, don’t sell yourself short yn, I wouldn’t have been able to look half as good if your selling of the beat down wasn’t as great.”

I’ve finally come face to face with demi, her aura radiates confidence and raw sex appeal.

“Okay ladies, you both did good.” Hunter states “but now, we have to incorporate the Uso’s into this, so next week on Smackdown the Judgement Day will meet the Uso’s.”

There is a real buzz backstage about this upcoming Smackdown. I just hope it’s something that the fans can really sink their teeth into.

Yn interview (TD segment)

“I always try and look at social media after a match, everyone things I’m crazy but honestly I need to know how it’s coming across to the fans.”

“If something isn’t working or isn’t believable you best believe the WWE universe will make their opinions known.”

Yn picks up her phone and goes into twitter.

“See, look at these comments.”

Mami vs yn????? TAKE MY MONEY NOW #smackdown #wwe

Mami stepping all over yn, me next jkjkjk unless👀 @RheaRipley_WWE #smackdown

Rhea why????? What did yn do to you :( #wwesmackdown

My two favourite woman beefing 😭 this will go down as the greatest rivalry ever!!!!!!!!!! #wwe #smackdown

“Okay, yeah some are a bit more extreme than others, but it shows that what we are doing, the story we are trying to tell is getting over with the fans. I just hope the Uso’s and Judgement Day can pull it out the bag too.”

The next day after I’m on television, I always wake up to messages from family and friends congratulating, consoling or just trying to get details out of me about what’s happening next, but my lips are sealed.

If I don’t see Jon, Trin or Josh before leaving the arena I always have multiple messages from them too, and today was no different.

J 💖

Get yo ass ready, we going for breakfast

Or we could stay in and I’ll have breakfast 👀

Did you get message?

You better be getting ready!!!!

I’m leaving now

Yn?

*10 missed calls J 💖*

Shit.

As I’m getting up, I hear banging from the other side of my hotel room, I don’t have to guess what, or who is making that noise. Opening the door, I’m greeted with an unamused Josh.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls or texts? I thought something had happened to you!”

“Well as you can see, I’m fine, so if you don’t mind, I need to get ready for breakfast.”

As I turn to walk away, I’m pulled into the familiar arms of his, my forbidden safe place. If Josh knew I was harbouring these feelings for him, this would all stop, and I could potentially lose him and I’m not ready for that.

Whispering into my ear he says the one thing I’ve been desperate to hear:

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for yesterday and the way I acted when you were talking with Orton, I know he’s just a friend but fuck, I hate when other men talk to my girl.”

“Your girl? So, are you mine then too?” I say sarcastically, knowing his answer.

He smirks “You know all this can’t be tied down.”

As much as we have had this conversation before, and I already knew his answer - it hurt but I couldn’t let him see that.

“Exactly Josh, so how about we cut the bullshit and call this for what it is? Two friends having fun.”

He spins me around and lifts my chin so I’m looking at him, his eyes dark and fiery – he was pissed.

“Okay, lets call it for what it is, you are mine.”

His large soft lips engulf my own, filling my body with the same euphoric feeling I always get with him.

“Now go get ready, Trin and Jon are waiting for us.”

At Breakfast (TD Segment)

“Hey girl, you took your time.”

“Ay did my brother try keep you from us AGAIN?”

“Trin, I overslept and Jon no one can keep me from you guys.” I say sitting next to Trin.

No matter what I’m going through, being with my family always makes me feel better. My happy place.

“Ya’ll mind if I sit?”

Joseph Fatu. As much as we run in the same circles, I’ve only ever met him once and that was in Hunters office. From what Trin and the boys have told me he’s quiet at first, but when he warms up, he is truly a special soul.

“Sit yo ass down, you aint gotta ask uce.”

I can see the Fatu resemblance. The dark mysterious eyes, the infectious smile and in contrast the brooding stare. These boys have good genes. My eyes start to wonder to the ink across his arms, studying each piece as if I was an art enthusiast. Looking back up I see his eyes are already on me with the signature Fatu stare, I smile and return to my conversation with Trin, hoping he hadn’t realised how long id been staring.

Unbeknownst to me, the waitress that had been serving us had been making heart eyes at Josh the entire time, and he had noticed this. Whether it was to get back at me for speaking up earlier or Josh being Josh, he started flirting with her at the table, she was over exaggerating her laugh and he was pulling out all the usual material that worked on these types of women. Watching him flirting wasn’t something knew and normally I wouldn’t bother much, however they exchanged numbers and arranged to meet up tonight. My stomach became heavy, and I felt like I was going to throw up, my heart was breaking once again and the cause? Josh Fatu.

Trin and Jon interview (TD segment)

“I love my brother deeply, but he is such an idiot.”

“Flirting with another girl right when yn is sitting at the table? That’s messed up.”

“Yeah Jon, your right your brother is an idiot. How could he do that to her?”

My eyes begin to sting as I excuse myself. This behaviour is nothing knew but each time it happened it took a little piece of me. Why did I have to fall in love with him of all people?!

tagged: @southerngirl41 @christinabae @raya-hunter01

#wwe #solo sikoa x yn #solo sikoa x reader #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wweedit #wwe x you #jey uso x reader #wwe x reader #joshua fatu smut #joseph fatu #joseph fatu smut #fatu #wwe x oc #jey uso fan fiction #the usos

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pinkrose787 · 2 months

Text

A Troll By Any Other Name Would Be As Sweet.

Summary: Branch realizes that she's trans. When she goes to tell Poppy, she finds that Poppy has something to tell her too.

Inspired by this post

AO3 Link

After everything with the Bergens, Branch has finally had some time do some introspection on who exactly Branch is.

And the answer is quite surprising.

Branch is a girl.

Looking back it does make a lot of sense. There had been so many signs that she ignored over the years. Like how she never really liked the way she looked in the mirror, how dressing up in suits always made her feel terrible about herself, or how she always felt like her name never really fit her.

For years, she attributed it to her very severe depression. Everything was bad for her emotionally. So, it made sense that she’d hate looking in the mirror and seeing the troll that she had become. Now that things are better, she is finally able to see it for what it really is. Severe gender dysphoria.

All she has to do now is tell everyone.

Which isn’t terrifying at all.

Troll society is generally very accepting of queer trolls. Branch remembers when Floyd came out as gay. Everyone was very supportive of him. There were a few female fans who were distraught. But other than that, no one really made a big deal of it.

Despite this acceptance, there is still this part of Branch that is terrified that she’ll be rejected. That others will look at her and say, “This is too much. She’s too weird.” And have her be outcasted from society again. Right after they had all accepted her back in.

But Branch refuses to let herself live her life in fear again. She’s coming out.

Poppy is obviously going to be the first person Branch comes out to. For one, she’s the nicest troll ever and if anyone is going to be supportive, it’s her. Two, Poppy is her best friend and she should be the first one to know the truth about her.

Branch stands in front of her pod. She raises her hand to knock on the door. Her hand starts to shake. Every part of her brain is activated like there’s a level 10 threat and she’s miles from her bunker.

She can’t do this.

As she turns around, the door swings open. “Branch! Hey! What’s up!” Poppy says.

Branch stops in her tracks. She turns around. This is the time to do it. There is no turning back. “Hey Poppy.” Branch waves at her. “Can we go inside? There’s something important I need to tell you.”

“Sure! Come on in!” Poppy waves Branch inside.

Branch’s legs feel like jelly as she walks in to Poppy’s pod. The last time she was this nervous around Poppy was when she was all gray and angry. Before the two of them were as close friends as they are now.

“What do you need to talk about?” Poppy asks.

“Well…” Branch wants to stall. But she won’t. “I want to tell you that I’m trans.”

“What?” Poppy says.

“I’m a girl, not a guy,” Branch says. She thought that Poppy would know what being trans meant given how socially conscious she is.

A wide smile forms on Poppy’s face. “That’s crazy!” She pulls Branch into a big hug. This is the type of reaction that Branch had expected from her. The hug feels so comforting, as Poppy’s hugs always are. “I’m so glad that you told me!”

Poppy releases Branch from the hug, to her slight disappointment. “I actually was going to tell you that I’m trans too!” Poppy says.

“What?” Out of all the responses she expected, that was not one of them.

“Yeah! I realized a couple of weeks ago that I’m a transguy!” he says.

“What?” Branch repeats. “Really?”

“Yes!” Poppy shouts very enthusiastically. “Have you picked out a new name yet? I haven’t. Nothing that I’ve thought of has really felt right.”

Branch rubs her arms. “Well, I haven’t.” She sighs. “Honestly, I haven’t really given anything about my transition much thought.”

Poppy gasps. “I just had the greatest idea in the history of ideas!”

“What is it?” Branch is dreading whatever he’s about to say. Often times, his “great” ideas end in a massive mess.

“We should switch names!”

“Wouldn’t that be confusing?”

“I don’t see why it would be,” Branch says.

Poppy shrugs. “Alright.”

“Yeah! I’m King Branch now! And you’re Poppy, my best friend!” Branch pulls Poppy into another big hug.

Poppy hugs Branch back. She loves his hugs. She loves him.

“We’ve got to tell everyone!” Branch thinks for a second. He gasps. “I know! We could throw a gender reveal party for ourselves!”

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that.” Poppy rubs her arm. “It’s just that telling you took a lot of courage. And I’m not sure if I’m ready to tell anyone else.”

Branch smiles softly. “That’s okay. We can tell everyone when you’re comfortable.”

Poppy sighs. “Yeah. When I’m ready.”

“Until then we could get you a new wardrobe!” Branch takes Poppy’s hand. He takes her over to his closet. “I’ve got lots of dresses that I don’t need anymore and you would look great in.”

Branch goes on and on about helping her with her fashion. Taking out different dresses and talking about how he thinks it will match her style. It’s so sweet. The kindness that Branch is showing her is one of the reasons that she loves him.

This isn’t exactly how Poppy imagined coming out would go. It’s a lot better than she could have ever imagined. Transitioning is scary, but at least she won’t be alone. She’ll have Branch by her side. And she’ll be by Branch’s side for his transition.

#branch trolls #poppy trolls #broppy #transfem branch #transmasc poppy #dreamworks trolls #trolls #poppy #branch #trolls fanfic #I wrote this for one specific scene

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nalyra-dreaming · 9 months

Note

Hello! Interested in your encyclopaedic knowledge on this. Skim-rereading the VC now for first time since I was a teenager and have to ask - does Louis ever, like - do anything for Lestat? This prompted particularly by TOTBT which my god is so savage. I can’t believe he’s happy to just… let him die?!? He doesn’t lift a finger, he doesn’t even try to protect him? It’s IWTV all over again, only supposedly their relationship is much better by this point.

It got me looking for examples where Louis does anything whatsoever proactive for Lestat and I’m really struggling. At the end of QotD, it seems like lots of the other vamps are trying to look after traumatised Lestat a bit, but I don’t think Louis comes to him? He just wanders off to New Orleans? Maybe I’ve missed a bit though. He looks after him a bit in his coma? Although not moreso than anyone else. But in the end it is Lestat who ends up waking up to save Louis. Even that bit in PLaTRoA where Lestat is about to have his heart stopped - Louis sitting next to his coffin - but Lestat reaches out to take Louis’ hand, not the other way round. Aside from verbally saying that he loves him, other than being generally nice and calm and polite, does Louis ever do anything to show it?

Hey nonny!

(Not sure about the encyclopedic but I‘ll try 😅💕) I do see a lot of the mentioned events a bit differently, allow me to explain (this is gonna be long^^):

Soooo to address your mention of TtotBT first off, I personally do think Louis thought of Lestat first and foremost when he sent him away in that scene.

Louis was tempted. It's no surprise imho that Jacob really wants to do that scene with Sam, because the power dynamics are inverted of course, but it is also emotionally very raw.

I want to pause here and recall a quote from QotD here, which is important:

Louis, the watcher, the patient one, was there on account of love pure and simple. The two had found each other only last night, and theirs had been an extraordinary reunion. Louis would go where Lestat led him. Louis would perish if Lestat perished. But their fears and hopes for this night were heartbreakingly human.

Louis... would perish if Lestat perished.

For Louis to send Lestat away... is to resign himself to death also. I think that has to be taken into account for the scene you mentioned, where Louis decides that Lestat deserves to save his soul, before Louis himself deserves to save his own. His rejection of Lestat there is done in full knowledge that he condemns himself there to a very lonely, cold, and ultimately fatal existence. He rejects Lestat there, knowing he will lose his greatest love.

I wouldn't call that happy to let him die? And I, personally, don't see it as a parallel to IWTV either, though it might feel a bit like that for Lestat, but the Louis here knows how much this will hurt. He knows what he is doing. He is condemning himself, hoping it will free Lestat.

And, while we're on TtotBT, in the beginning of the book there is the mention of Louis coming by Lestat's, to 'Netflix & chill', to share space and spend time, watch movies (for example "Company of the wolves", just being there. Talk. Discuss. Being together. So Louis did come by, for Lestat. And Lestat visited Louis, in his shack, had his own chair there. They were in each other's lives.

And... in the end of that book - when David show's up? What does Louis do? He takes David in. Makes room for David in their old home in Rue Royale. Accepts David - for Lestat. Accompanies them, too. Honestly, given David is David... that is a HUGE sacrifice! He let's David, the new fledgling, into their home. Because he is Lestat's. Later on, in PL, he will do the same for Antoine, which is obviously something that had to grate quite a lot as well, and I have always seen that as a rather conscious decision to allow it. To allow Antoine into their lives, because he is Lestat's.

Louis also tries to protect Lestat before the concert.

I know a lot of people read that from Lestat's POV and are just happy with the reunion (and of course it is beautiful and I really want to see it on the show!!) but... it's not only that.

Louis comes, to Lestat, not only because he can do so. But he pleads for Lestat to stay safe, too, to not do the concert. Because he is afraid for Lestat. He wants to keep him safe, wants to keep him with himself, too. He pleads with him not to go on stage. Offers to talk, to make plans, to 'Let us have each other in this century the way we never did in the past'.

You mentioned the end of QotD, and... in their universe, all that happens right after this reunion. A few days, a week at most. And then Lestat hides himself away again, in a room, trying to cope. Because he has been used again, abused, too, in a way he himself can only cope with by reframing it as love.

Louis knows it isn't. Wasn't. And he knows that he and Lestat cannot talk freely with the others there. He and Lestat are not able to use the mind gift directly. And... he is deeply unsettled by Jesse's report, the report she gives Lestat. Claudia's ghost. Deeply, deeply personal and something they share, very painfully. They go by Louis' tombstone, and then they can talk. A bit. Louis trusts Lestat and in his new powers. Falls asleep in his arms.

And that... is a rather powerful statement.

Louis (admittedly begrudgingly) enters that "adventure" with Lestat, fully trusting in Lestat. Kissing, embracing. Sleeping in his arms. It's a statement.

A statement that, despite Lestat feeling changed, and alien, that Louis still trusts him. Trusts in him, too.

And it is Louis, who tries to take Lestat home in Memnoch, Louis who pleads, begs for Lestat to be released. Louis who cries out when Lestat is locked up. Louis is the one who saves the books, Louis is the one who tries to comfort Lestat. Louis is the one who holds the proverbial fort at Rue Royale, with David, for long, long years. Louis is the one who despairs, eventually, when Lestat goes back into that half-awake coma, his soul taken away by angels.

Though there is more to that, too. You say Louis did not look after Lestat more than others, and I'd beg to differ. Louis was the one in the chapel, guarding Lestat. Holding his ground with the ancients, and the riff raff that Armand hunted down (even once with Lestat later). Louis is the one who keeps Ruy Royale, and makes sure Lestat is kept clean during his episodes of stillness, and it is only when he breaks, eventually, when Merrick takes his focus... that that... stops. When the Merrick events start, David visits Lestat, and Louis is 'there, seated on the marble beside Lestat, reading in a hushed voice from an old book of English poetry'.

Louis never leaves Lestat's side for long. Armand notes how he seems emaciated, hungry when Armand comes by in his version of the tale.

It is only when Merrick's spell unfolds that Louis leaves Lestat's side, that his focus shifts. And with the shift to Claudia and her ghost... the despair takes hold.

And it is when Louis heartbeat stops - that the "angels" lose their blackmailing material.

Lestat later tells of how he was forced to do "their bidding" by them threatening to take the eye... and though he doesn't elaborate... it is very clear what that means wrt Louis.

Because there simply was nothing else they could threaten him with anymore. Nothing else was more important than Louis. Not his eye, not his soul.

This always sends a shiver down my spine.

But that just as a note.

Louis is the one who accepts Lestat's judgment, after Merrick's creation.

He also accepts Lestat abandoning New Orleans, eventually, because Lestat cannot stand it anymore to kill the riff raff, those who "offend Armand", something Lestat calls "autocratic, ruthless" wrt to Armand's killing of them.

Louis accepts Lestat's decision there, and goes to Armand. Something that Lestat in turn accepts and supports(!):

My beloved Louis de Pointe du Lac left soon after, and from that time on lived in New York with Armand. Armand keeps the island of Manhattan safe for them—Louis, Armand, and two young blood drinkers, Benjamin and Sybelle, and whoever else joins them in their palatial digs on the Upper East Side.

And when Lestat is finally ready, it is Louis who apologizes to Lestat for the "past" by hunting a woman who wanted to murder her husband - in front of Lestat.

Personally, I find that a very poignant "doing-it-for-someone" :)))

But there is more.

Louis is the one who rescues Rose! Rose, Lestat's charge. Louis knows about Rose. Lestat's lawyers know about Louis. Louis takes over when Lestat is unreachable.

There is so much in these simple facts!

Like, they must have talked about Rose. Louis knows about Rose, knows she is important to Lestat, he takes the responsibility, saves her from fire, kills the ones who harmed her. Brings her to him. And he is the one Lestat's lawyers reach out to when Lestat is gone? Unreachable? What a statement is that in and by itself?! Louis is the one Lestat trusts with that child, the girl he saved and who will become his immortal daughter. Their immortal daughter.

And then, when Rhosh is there in NYC, at that table, and the axe scene happens... what does Louis do?

He smiles.

Now I don't know if you know that scene well, but it is quite the scene, and I honestly cannot wait to see it on the show.

And Louis... smiles. Shows support.

Quiet. Steadfast. The support Lestat needs, probably more than he consciously realizes.

And then, of course, later on - knowing what "Lestat cannot confide". They are finally sharing blood again, and Louis becomes Lestat's confidant. To all the things Lestat cannot speak about, all the things he has hinted at but cannot put into words. All the things that are too heavy to address.

That is no trifle.

And the silver cord, where Louis pushes the matter against Lestat's (not) better judgement. Where Louis is there, for Lestat to reach out.

Your ask made it seem (a bit) as if being there and offering is not sufficient, but strength shows itself in very different ways. Lestat is more direct, "flashy". Louis' strength is more subtle, it is an offer for support, unwavering support, whenever Lestat wants it. For as long as Lestat wants it. Not taking agency from Lestat, which is like the worst thing that could happen again... because that is something that has been taken from Lestat again, and again, and again. And Louis knows that.

And so he doesn't.

He doesn't take. He offers. It shows he knows Lestat. And he accepts him, and their respective pasts, and all the shit that has happened.

Again, that is no trifle, imho.

There is more. Little mentions, in the books.

A "grotto" they once shared. For example. Louis wearing the clothes Lestat chooses.

But for the most part you have to "read between the lines" as Lestat says, for the juicy details - however, I think when you consider the arcs? The arcs that span all the books?

The things we are told actually speak for themselves, imho.

Louis does a lot of things for Lestat. The important things, actually.

He is there for Lestat to turn to when Lestat's strength fails.

And yes, that includes the rejection in TtotBT - because Louis thought he had to be the one to show the strength for Lestat - to hold fast to the initial belief. The initial hope that drove the body switch - because Lestat had just found out he could not die anymore. Even if he tried. And he had tried. And it had sent him spiraling.

Would Louis have held out indefinitely? Probably not :) But that's another discussion.

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