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astramthetaprime · 2 years

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And Now the Scores...

Okay so here’s that Autism post I mentioned yesterday.

I have been diagnosed by a professional, a bit over 3 years ago now. I’m not “officially” diagnosed since as of yet I don’t feel I need to be for accommodations and/or disability purposes. I don’t consider myself disabled. I have been and continue to be for the most part capable of earning a living and taking care of my house and myself. It may not be a “normal” life but I’m coming to realize that was never in the cards anyway. But I persist, despite it all.

Still, some actual numbers might not go amiss. Data is never out of fashion and never unwelcome.

If you suspect you too are autistic and wish similar data about yourself, I can highly recommend Embrace Autism. All the tests seen here are on that site and free to take and score, and give you a PDF of the test and your scores after. Many of the posts I’ve seen on “what to do if you think you’re Autistic” mention taking such tests, printing them out after, and taking it with you when you go to speak to a therapist. As evidence, so to speak. I did so myself when I went for my diagnosis, and the therapist was kind of startled I had come so well-prepared. The tests and scores I speak of today are freshly taken, as I wanted fresh data. So what you see here is all me as I am at the current time.

Right. So to begin, the RAADS-R or more formally the Ritvo Autism Aspergers Diagnostic Scale Revised. The RAADS is designed to detect Autism in adults and those not diagnosed as children. As such, if you are older than 16 this is a good place to start. The scoring breaks down into 5 subscales for a bit of granularity. The higher the score, the more you’re Autistic.

Total score: 172 (range 0-240, 65+ indicates Autistic)

Language: 9

Social Relatedness: 89

Sensory / Motor: 38

Curcumscribed Interests: 36

So my worst on this is social relatedness, this covers such things as masking, timing in conversations, non-verbal cues, reading facial expressions, difficulties in maintaining relationships, and only interested in people who share my interests. Sensory / motor I know I don’t have much problem with, except for a few specific things, so no surprise there. Circumscribed interests involves such things as having trouble when routines are disrupted and of course “special interests”. In other words, if you want me to infodump like there’s no tomorrow then ask me how I would go about settling a new star system. Then get popcorn and a drink because you’re going to be there a while. (If you want to get rid of me, suggest we go get sushi or visit a fish market.)

So the 2nd test for today is the CAT-Q, formally known as Camouflaging Autistic Traits Questionnaire. This test is also intended for adults, to determine how much a person is masking. Masking is a coping mechanism wherein the Autistic person essentially takes on a constructed persona in order to fulfill the expectations of their family, co-workers, friends and acquaintances. I think of it as a sort of emulator program, or an interface program. One can argue that even neurotypical people do this, and that is correct. But it’s the extent of the phenomenon that causes the problems. A neurotypical person can drop the mask very quickly when needed, put it aside when no longer needed, without difficulty. An Autistic person essentially lives in their masks 24/7. This can and often does cause further mental disorders such as depression and anxiety, and can lead to suicide. Why? Because we lose our own identity and are never known for who we really are. We are forced to constantly play a role for the comfort of society, because society doesn’t want us as we truly are.

I had thought that I didn’t mask, when all this began. But yes, I do. I’m only recently beginning to realize how much. Anyway, on with the scores!

Total: 131 (Range 25-175, 100+ indicates masking)

Compensation: 40

Masking: 43

Assimilation: 48

Higher scores indicate greater extent on all scales.

The subscales seem pretty much as read, but in brief Compensation is strategies used to compensate for difficulties, Masking indicates hiding autistic traits, and Assimilation indicates strategies used to “fit in”.

So yeah, once more batting it out of the park here. I do mask, quite extensively. And I do feel the pain of it. I cannot be myself around anybody. I don’t speak about space colonization or Buddhism or my writing to anybody for fear of infodumping or being called “weird”. I don’t even talk about my Autism except obliquely even to my mother. She knows -- my whole family knows, given I “came out” when we were all out having pizza -- but they don’t want to know. They want the cute little red-haired girl I was 45 years ago. My mom wants the successful, skinny, beautiful, married, heterosexual daughter she thought she gave birth to 53 years ago. The entire family wants a Conservative Southern woman to agree with them on every point. They want another Christian. They want themselves reflected in me. I can’t be that. I’m not any of those things. I’m a weird, transgender, bisexual, Buddhist, Socialist, AUTISTIC fat person who is terrified to be known as any of those things to anybody. So, the mask. If required to attend family gatherings, I rarely speak. When I do it’s never about anything I care about. Every word is censored. I just eat what is invariably a very fine meal, sit silently internally wincing as their voices get louder from their enthusiasm, and eventually go home. My family are excellent cooks, I’ll give them their due. Sometimes, especially lately, I think I’d kill for my mom to make Carbonara or our family stroganoff for me.

Mom and I talk mostly about our pets and food. We don’t have much else in common. It’s all the white spaces inbetween, y’know? Like, we talk around all the timebombs.

I have no one else. No friends, even online. I’ve got my boy Genji. As long as we’re out walking he doesn’t much care what I say.

Su!c!de is real, folks. Autistic people die from it at an alarming rate. It’s never off the table for me. If you were forced every minute of your life to be somebody you aren’t, never able to express yourself as yourself to anybody out of a very real fear of ridicule, harrassment, or worse... wouldn’t you be depressed? Wouldn’t you eventually consider su!c!de? What if after all this, KNOWING what you are, you go to a therapist in what is supposed to be a “safe space”... you’re told “you’re not Autistic, you’re not babbling about trains or math and you’re not screaming and thrashing around”?

“You’re not Autistic because you’re not a little white boy who’s obsessed with Minecraft.”

“You can’t be Autistic, you’re a girl!”

It’s real, folks. I AM AUTISTIC.

Get the fuck over it and help me.

#actuallyautistic #howbadcanbadget #RAADS R #CAT-Q #tw suicide #allaboardtheangstexpress

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nanamisflowerfield · 2 years

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Good day/afternoon/night! Could i request general relationship headcanons for savanaclaw? I love these fluffy boys sm- arigatoo~❤

I hope that you like it, dear anon and have a great day/afternoon/night too!💕

🦁 You are the only person, who is allowed to wake him up. He won’t be as grumpy as usual, when you do this

🦁 He loves cuddling with you, but Leona will never admit it

🦁 He has no problem with pda, so if you are a fan of it, then he won’t mind it at all!

🦁 He loves to tease you and will do it 24/7 (only if he is awake though…)

🦁 Leona once purred, when you patted his head. Since that day, he always tries to refuse getting your lovely head pats! (But if you two are alone… He might allow it!)

🦁 The lion prince loves to sleep on your lap or chest. It’s calm and comfortable for him and he will do it, whenever he wants.

🦁 You were once hanging around with your friends, until Leona came, grabbed you by your wrist and dragged away, so he can take a nap on you. Yes, on you!

🦁 After dating you, he realized that he actually dislikes to sleep without you by his side, so he wants you to be there, when he takes his naps

🦁 Leona had many dreams of you, but will keep it a secret

🦁 He will get jealous, when Grim is sitting on your lap, due to the fact that he claims your lap as his.

🦁 “Why are you staring? - Mh? What? I am not jealous, stupid herbivore. Now leave me alone… Wait… You are really leaving me? Come here, I need to take a nap. Better come, little herbivore.”

🐺 We all know that Jack is a tsundere and will be, if you want to shower him with love in front of your friends!

🐺 He LOVES it, if you touch his ears and pat his head. His tail will swoosh faster than Sebek could run towards Malleus!

🐺 Jack is the definition of “all bark no bite”, so you know that he would maybe be strict at you in front of others, but will also treat you like a princess and porcelain doll, afraid to ever hurt you

🐺 Expect to get puppy-eye Jack, when he wants you to cheer for him during his club activities

🐺 There will be lots of teases in your relationship! But no, Jack would never tease you! Your friends would do it!

🐺 Jack will protect you nonstop and if he knows that something stupid or dangerous is around you, he will stand next to you, putting his arm over your shoulders, wanting you to be safe and healthy

🐺 He will always step away from you, whenever you want to touch him in front of others. He doesn’t want to let them see his soft side around you

🐺 Jack is the one who always says:”No, guys. Let’s not do (insert stupid ideas).” But will do them anyway, when he knows that his dearly s/o is willing to do them.

🐺 “Really Jack? You jumped in front of (y/n) to protect them but not us? Wow, nice of you…” Your boyfriend just crosses his arms over his chest, shrugging his shoulders at his friends

🐺 Just like Leona, he also likes to sleep near you, due to the fact that he could protect you, when you are nearby

🐺 “You don’t have to carry me, Jack…” – “I know, I just don’t want you to trip over something. Hold on tight.” But he would always let you go immediately, if anybody is coming towards you two…

🍩 That boy needs breaks! And thankfully he has you! His dear s/o who will make him smile, after a long and exhausting day

🍩 If you love to shower people in love and affection, then Ruggie will soak all your love up like a sponge

🍩 The sweet hyaena will also be super happy if you bring him food, massage him or help him out, whenever he needs help!

🍩 He will also bring you your favorite food, if you want to eat it.

🍩 “Ouch! What the hell-!?” Ruggie grins at Grim, throwing daggers with his glance, as the cat gulped, knowing that he shouldn’t occupy you for too long. “Mine.~” Ruggie grins, throwing his arms over you.

🍩 He knows that you help many students all the time and that you were basically the school therapist, but that makes Ruggie a little bit jealous, as he wants to spend his time with you and not with many of your other friends

🍩 There were times he used his unique magic on your friends, so he can relax around you. But he swore to himself, that he wouldn’t use his magic on you!

🍩 He loves it, if you kiss his ears. His fluffy ears will twitch and he will put his chin on your shoulder, never wanting to leave your side

🍩 Thanks to his knowledge and part-time jobs, he will have enough money to buy Leona’s things that the prince has wished to have and also small little gifts for you

🍩 He will often nuzzle his nose on your neck, as Ruggie loves to smell you

🍩 “I’m so tired… I feel like an empty battery… Nothing can charge me up…- Huh… Oh, you are hugging me? Maybe I will take it back… You really help me to get more energy…”

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whiskehorange · 3 years

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Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you but I’ve been feeling down lately and I really enjoy reading ur blog. Is it ok if you do Jason, micheal, bubba Thomas, Brahms ,pyramid head, asa and Harry warden if possible with an S/O who’s usually happy and willing and all of a sudden she breaks down one day bawling on the couch or something and she didn’t know they were there, not wanting to make them upset or sad? Sorry if it’s really sad, I just need a lil love, I love u and ur blog! Thank you! Take your time and drinks lots of water!

Jason

Uhm, excuse me bitch what in the fuck is going on? You gave you the right to scare the shit out of Jason like that?

When he first came home the weeping made him freeze. He was positive it wasn’t you, he had never even seen you frown before so this absolutely cannot be your crying. Yet, as he walked in to see you whip around, tears streaming down your face as you look at him in pure shock you almost send him falling backwards

He doesn’t even care what made you cry of feel this way he’s going to be up your ass the entire day. Coddling, kissing, rubbing, and doing any and all for of comforting that he knows how to do

Jason absolutely hates seeing you cry, especially as hard as you did. You’re more than welcome to talk to him about it for as long as you want whenever you want and all he will do is listen and comfort you

Jason is a very physically affectionate man, even though he is a bit hesitant at first, so when you feel yourself in a time like this, you bess’ believe that he’s going to be around you 24/7. Even a few days after that, he needs to be your therapist (which he’s real good at)

Michael

You won’t be able to see it, but Michael is panicking and sweating bullets underneath that mask. It’s an immediate fight or fight response

Michael, overall, isn’t too good with handling other peoples emotions, so don’t be surprised when he doesn’t come to you right away for any sort of comfort in those "typically ways"

Hugging, coddling, cuddling, and any typeof caressing is going to come later in the day when things have begun to quiet down. Not only is he completely unused to having to comfort you in anyway like this, but he's pretty pissed at whatever made you come to this point

The main thing Michael wants you to do is to talk to him, tell him what's wrong so that he knows just how to handle the situation: either to kill or to... not know what to do

It's very safe to say that he will get better with knowing how to comfort you if this does ever happen again, which he really hopes it won't.

Bubba

There is a lot that can make Bubba cry, at this is one of the times he wasn't expecting to. Everyday, no matter how hard it was for him, he knew he could count on your cheery face to great him when he comes running back inside

His first reaction is to panic; he's never been put in this sort of situation before with you and he really doesn't know how to approach you. He sort of just sits awkwardly next to you and whines

Comfort does eventually find your way with pets and hugs, there aren't really any verbal affirmations he can give you, but for what he lacks in communication he can make up with physical affection one way or another

A downside to Bubba, however, is that he almost has an out-of-sight-out-of-mind personality realistically. So don't get too upset if when you have some space from him that same day that he'll sort of forget you've been upset

In that case, be prepared for the exact same meltdown when he figures out how upset you've been for the second time

Thomas

Thomas' defense mode in immediately activated. Never would he have thought that he would have to be on the comforting side so you'll have to give him a minute, but it really isn't even that long

He's gentle and patient, he knows what its like to feel such extreme motions and most of all that they are pretty hard to get out, so take your time and he'll be here with you until you're back up on your feet. Literally

To say you scared him would be an understatement, but he pushes that aside to genuinely make sure that you are not physically hurt, because if that was the case whoever did it should be the one scared

Instead, Thomas has somewhere quiet for you to go with him, the least he would want is for Hoyt to complain about such "loud" crying in the house. It's better for him to give out physically comforting, too!

His go to's are hugs and petting/caressing, it's what he would want. It's comforting to say the least, but the fact that you can't even breath right doesn't go down well when he's crushing your spinal cord in a bear hug

Braham

However oblivious, he's oddly able to tell that you're acting different before you even get the chance to melt down. From all of the time spent watching you from within the walls, you can say that he knows you like the back of his hand

Brahms has absolutely no clue how to address you. Of course he's fended for himself for a long time but any sort of emotional help is foreign to him

He'll come around, of course, the moment that you do breakdown he's by your side and he's ready to do just about anything you tell him to do but he's on edge

However, the sort of comfort you will get from him will be physical, it's the best way he can quickly show any form of care for you that he thinks will work. Brahms absolutely hates seeing you this way because he want to be able to fix the problem and he just doesn't know how

He insists that you tell him whats wrong as he holds you, curled up, in his lap. Gently caressing your head and face as he listens to your soft cries and explanation. It's the best he can do for you and he knows that that he'll have to pay close attention to when you baby him next, that way he's prepared for whenever this might happen next

Pyramid Head

What the fuck even? Pyramid Head isn't going to catch on too soon, but the moment he hears your cries from anywhere he is by your side immediately

He hates it the most out everyone on this list, and I mean that heavily. Not only does he go on rampages because he doesn't know what's wrong, but it pisses him off to no end that he doesn't know how to handle it

Pyramid Head wants so bad to be able to comfort you and understand what's made you this upset that he can come across as a little overbearing, but mainly clingy. He doesn't leave your side well after you've stopped crying and makes sure to keep an eye on you from now on so that he can possibly be there before this happens again

While he isn't able to properly communicate to you, a lot of his body language displays signs of uncomforted alongside you. Just about any emotion you feel he absorbs and feels it right with you, mainly because its his way of showing you that you're not alone and he's here to spend this time with you

Just please don't ever do that again it's so stressful he likes seeing you bubbly not sad omfg-

Asa

Asa is the most unreadable, really. He's able to keep his composure the entire time as you bawl your eyes out before him, but inside he's shaking up a little. He doesn't like seeing you upset whens it's not for play of course, so it comes as a bit of a surprise for even him

He's a little hesitant to comfort you because he is surprised, but is also just one of the most distant when it comes to comfort in this way, While being used to your much brighter personality, eventually he'll get better at it for for the time being, you don't have to deal with much of him

There is some physical reassurance, so you're not completely neglected, but Asa does have other things to do. He gently takes you in his arms and leads you up to the bedroom where he lays you down, caressing your head and covering you up

He'll leave to get you water or a drink and some other small things like your phone or a small snack if you haven't eaten, but mostly your phone so that you can call or text him if you need him. From there he'll shut the lights iff and let you get a bit of sleep

Asa stays in the house and cancels any outside plans for the day and makes sure that his phone's ringer is on at all times. By the time you call him for something he'll be up to your room before the ringtone even ends

Harry

Harry is most definitely clueless and will feel like he's going to cry right alongside you. Harry is not good at handling his own emotions let alone yours

He adored being around your bright and shining face everyday, it was something that could regulate his own and he clung to you like a moth to a lamp. So, you can only image the confusion and terror Harry experiences when he comes home to you the complete opposite

It's a very frantic sort of comfort that he gives you, moving from one thing to another to try to figure out what's wrong and what do to. It's really almost as if Harry feels your emotions stronger than you do, but he wants to do everything in his power to fix you

He comes home extra aware in the future, always prepared to be there by your side in hopes to deal with your feelings better, but he still doesn't like it at all. He goes out of his way to do more things around the house of for you in general to lessen up any stress, even if there was none in the first place

#jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #pyramid head x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #harry warden x reader #slasher x reader

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

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rock

Summary - spencer wants to figure out what's wrong with you, only to be reminded what day it is and he remembers why you've been so distant.

TW: talk abt: rape, recovery, therapy, case stuff; mention of: drug addiction, rape, miscarriage, being shot, death lol

WC - 4,283

!DISCLAIMER! - i am in no way trying to romanticize recovery from a traumatic event or being upset/depressed/anxious. this is kinda my way of getting through my own issues, so please don't think that's what i'm trying to do in any way. i also don’t know how i feel abt this ending since i wrote it so long ago but oh well!

i just realized there are a few spoilers so i'll put *asterisks* around them. those parts are just explaining how the reader's always there for the team.

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

you had always been the rock in spencer's life.

mentally, at least.

when he had nobody there for him when he was going through his addiction with dilaudid, there you were. you helped him through it when everybody else on the team acted as if they never noticed.

you were the one that encouraged him to get help, and pushed him to follow through. you made sure he ate and talked to someone when he had his urges again, even if it wasn't you.

you let him come over and cry about what had happened, and how unfair his life was. you consoled him and would tell him how nothing was his fault. how he didn't deserve anything bad in his life.

*and when emily 'died', he went to your house every day. you held him as he felt himself falling apart from losing her. you didn't even worry about yourself needing to be consoled, because spencer needed you to be there for him.

*when she came back you were the one to convince him to forgive her. you talked sense into him. you reminded him how much he pleaded to have her back, and then he did. so he managed to forgive her... because of you and your logic.

*and you weren't just there for spencer. while, yes, you made a special effort to be there for him, you were there for everyone on the team.

*when derek was arrested back in chicago and the team found out about his past, you were the one he leaned on for comfort. you and penelope. you let him cry on your shoulder and yell at you about how twisted a man would have to be to do something so cruel to a child.

*when jj was kidnapped and beaten to a miscarriage, you were the first she told. you didn't say anything. you knew there was nothing you could say that would relinquish the pain of losing a child. so you let her cry. you let her hug you for what felt like hours. you let her grief her unborn baby for as long as she needed.

*when penelope was shot, nobody cared to check up on her after the fact except you. you went to her apartment for weeks just to make sure she was okay. eventually, she was able to let loose all of her frustrations on you, and you took it like a champ. she ranted about how she just wanted to be loved by someone attractive and how unfair and cruel the world is, in spite of how much good she tries to bring into it.

*when hotch lost hailey, you took care of his files. you offered to watch henry and let hotch cry to you about losing her a few times once you broke past his tough exterior. you even cried with him and jack. you made them dinner whenever you could, and helped him look for good nannies to help care for jack.

*when rossi lost carolyn, you went to her grave with him on many occasions. you brought him his favorite scotch, which was very pricey, and his favorite cigars, also very pricey, and tried your best to recreate 'the rossi special' upon his directions. it helped him feel in control of something when he needed it.

*and when emily came back from the dead, you helped walk her through her own grief. she lost herself, and buried her emotions. you helped her dig up her old self, and grow into an even better woman. you even took care of her cat when penelope couldn't manage. you helped emily grieve her own death when she wanted to deny it ever happened, and she was forever grateful for you.*

you had become like the team's built-in therapist when something bad happened, and you loved it that way. you loved being the one the team went to when they needed it. it made you feel as though you had a purpose, which was something you desperately needed.

but when you went through your own trauma almost a year ago, you refused help from anyone. you knew you should've asked someone for help, or at least someone to cry or talk to when you needed to.

the team had been working on a case for longer than expected, 8 days now, and everyone was really frustrated. you had released the profile 7 days ago, and there was still no new information. it was as if the unsub had gone dormant, and you all couldn't bear that thought.

when the team released earlier than normal from the precinct and you all went to the hotel you had been staying at, you decided to get a drink from the bar quickly. you went alone, wanting to review a few of the case files during the process and not needing a distraction.

you ordered a jack and coke, and opened the case files to begin rereading them, seeing if you had missed anything.

victims were kept for 24 hours, filmed, raped, restrained, cut in pieces, and thrown in the trash like garbage. it was absolutely disgusting, and the worst you had seen in a while. the victims were low-risk and most of them had a place of authority.

the unsub had been profiled to be someone who was bossed around by a woman, narcissistic and egotistical, wanted to feel more power and authority.

the problem is, that profile was most people living in the area. even penelope couldn't dwindle down the suspects.

and alas, you had missed nothing. nothing new appeared or caught your eye. you gulped down the rest of your drink and paid for it before packing up your things to head upstairs. you tossed the file back into your bag and began the trek to the elevator.

you were interrupted by something hitting the top of your head, rendering you unconscious.

the team had woken up, and after waiting around for half an hour, spencer realized something was wrong. he had morgan bust into your room, only to find the bed unslept in. you were missing. and the worst part... you fit the unsubs type.

spencer felt his heart drop at the realization he had taken you. and it seemed as though there was no trail as to where you had gone. penelope checked the cameras, only to find that they were hacked right after you left the bar, and then they resumed after you were taken.

at least they had a time frame.

later that day, after everyone hasting to figure something, anything out, spencer had gotten an email. he opened it and expected it to be relentless spam, only to realize it was a live feed video. a video of you. he instantly called penelope in hopes that she could trace it.

she said she could, but it would take some time because the amount of routers it had been going through.

while they were waiting, you noticed you were alone. you knew who the unsub was too, thanks to his baffling stupidity and narcissism that lead him to believe he wouldn't get caught.

"officer johnson! it's officer johnson!" you looked around the camera for a second, noticing something moving. "he-he here," you cried out. "i love you," you said to the camera to nobody in particular, but someone in mind.

you were terrified. spencer could see it in your eyes. he could see the tears you tried not to shed. you didn't want to please him, but you couldn't help but feel the absolute horror and fear coursing through your body at a relentless pace.

"hi there, missus fbi," he teased, finally walking into the frame with a ski mask over his face, clearly not aware that we knew his identity.

spencer told garcia who he was, and she began her digging. officer johnson's great grandparents had owned a farm that was since then refurbished. it was an hour away.

officer johnson had known that you two had chemistry. that's why he sent the email to spencer. he saw the longing glares, the 'innocent' touches, the smiles you would give each other, the longing looks you shared. he wanted to torment him.

so when he began undressing you and you turned your face away from the camera in hopes of sparing some of your own dignity, spencer felt his heart breaking for you. it broke even more when he heard the yelps, and screams, and please, and "no!'s" you elicited during the act.

they caught him before he cut you, but not before he finished the first part of his plan. your skirt was ripped, and your shirt was practically in two pieces. spencer had given you his jacket to cover yourself as much as you could.

you stayed silent the ride back. you didn't even let spencer hold you like you normally would after a tough case. you were ashamed. embarrassed. you felt worthless. you felt pathetic. you felt stupid. you felt helpless. you felt like you were drowning. you felt like you were without a life raft.

you knew you could talk to the team about it, but you felt so disgusted by the thought of what happened to you that you only talked about it in your therapy sessions.

hotch had given you two months off. he wanted you to grieve, and go to therapy, and try to cope with everything that had happened.

and you did try to do that. you tried your hardest to get over it and move past it, but nothing helped. not the journaling. not the talking. not the crying. nothing was working.

spencer gave you a little space at first, but he then decided to try to help you as you had helped him. he went over to your house almost every day, and sat outside your door after you wouldn't let him in.

you knew he was there... you sat on the other side.

"i-i know that you probably don't want to see anyone right now. and i'm uh, i'm sure you feel alone right now, or like you can't talk to anyone," spencer sniffled. "but pl-please just uhm, just know that i'm here when you want to talk about it. i'm here to listen to you when you need me to. i-i don't want you to be alone during this time, y/n. please, just let me in," he begged.

that was normally what he would say almost every night he went to your house. he would sit outside for hours after he would ask you to let him in without fail. until one day you let him in.

spencer felt so much relief when you opened the door, only for it to be smashed when he noticed your eyes looked red and puffy, your cheeks were stained with the tears you had been crying for so long. your cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles underneath your eyes that were once full of life and happiness. your eyes no longer had that gorgeous sparkle in them.

spencer vowed he would get them back.

as much as spencer wanted to wrap his arms around you in that moment, to comfort you and tell you that he was there, he wanted you to make the first move. he wanted to tell you how strong you were and how proud of you he was for getting through that. he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.

he wanted you to make the first touch, because he didn't want to further upset you. he didn't want to trigger a repressed memory, or bring back the feelings of what had happened.

but spencer's touch was nothing like the officer's. spencer's touch was soft and gentle. spencer's touch was feather-light and endearing. spencer's touch was love and home. the officer's was brittle, and rough, and repulsive.

"hug me?" you sniffled as your eyes welled with tears again as they had been for the past three weeks.

"of course," spencer slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders as yours found his torso.

he walked inside with you still in his arms and slowly shut the door. without breaking from the hug, you both walked to the couch and sat down.

you didn't say anything. you just needed spencer to keep hugging you, so he did. he did whatever you wanted, needed, from him. eventually, you fell asleep in his embrace on the couch.

when spencer looked down at you, now sleeping against his chest, he couldn't bring his heart to remove himself from you. so like any whipped man would do, he carefully picked you up bridal styled and carried you to your room. he took his shoes off as well as his sweater vest before cuddling back up next to you.

as if it was a reflex, you cuddled up into his chest when he neared you again and got underneath the covers. spencer slept the best he did in months with you. and you slept without officer johnson in your dreams for the first time since that day.

ever since then, spencer had been making sure you were eating and drinking. he took you to your therapy sessions and stayed over most nights you had asked and he was able to.

they had a few cases during the two months, so every moment he could, spencer was with you. he coaxed you back to your normal-ish self. he watched as that glimmer in your eye began to slowly grow brighter everyday. he watched as your smile came back, and your tears didn't come so frequently.

the first time he had heard you laugh again, spencer had thought he was dreaming. he wished he had recorded that moment. he was more grateful than he's ever been in his life that he had an eidetic memory, because that sound would forever be engraved in his brain.

when you returned to work, you clung to spencer. he had become your tether to reality, and hope. he had become your rock during the recovery.

over the months, everyone slowly began to forget what had even happened. things went on as usual, and the team forgot the traumatic experience you had gone through. even spencer might've let the experience get lost in his brain.

so when it became 11 months and 3 weeks since the abduction, you began to distance yourself once again.

you politely declined going out with the team a couple days before the anniversary, something you never did. you insisted that you were just especially worn out from the case you had just been on.

spencer had to finish files given to him by derek anyway, so he didn't get to witness the encounter.

once the day of the anniversary came upon you, you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach. you couldn't help the tears that would fall from your face every so often. you knew why you felt this way, but you wanted to push past it.

you had gone into the office wearing a pantsuit and blazer, wanting to avoid the normal office skirt you happened to be wearing the day it happened. you stayed at your desk and quietly did your case files. you didn't even greet spencer as you would every day. you gave him a kind smile, but you would normally give him a hug, or at the very least an eager wave upon his arrival.

spencer just assumed it was one of those days where you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. it wasn't spencer's fault he thought this. he didn't even look at his calendar to check what day it was. he just knew they had paperwork.

but he did have this day marked in his calendar. he had it marked so he would remember to be extra kind to you, and do your files for you, and come to your place with your favorite wine and takeout. he wanted to help you through the one year anniversary, but he forgot to check his stupid calendar.

you thought he didn't care. you thought the man who you loved, and the man who helped you through everything that had happened had had enough of your complaining and grievances. so, you didn't tell him about it. you didn't bother him with the terrible thoughts clouding your mind because you thought it'd burden him.

so when you finished all of your case files early, you asked hotch if you could leave early, at 2:00, because you had things to tend to. he allowed you to do so, but this rose a flag for spencer.

he saw you exit without saying goodbye to him, something you hadn't done the entirety of knowing him. you had always told everyone to have a nice night and to be safe before leaving, but not today.

finally, he looked at his phone for the first time all day, only to feel like the worst person in the world to realize what day it was. spencer felt absolutely horrible at this revelation and ran into hotch's office as quick as he could after packing his things.

"hotch!" he exclaimed upon opening his office door.

"go. she was practically in tears," hotch informed him. "and reid," spencer stopped in his tracks to turn and look at the stern man, "please make sure she's okay." spencer gave him a soft grin and a nod before turning around and bolting out of the office.

you had gotten home and immediately burst into tears. you shut the door with your back, and slid down it. you had never understood why people had done that in movies until now. you just couldn't wait to break any longer, so you settled for your front door.

you held back no wail, or scream as you cried in front of your door, your knees pulled up to your chest as you held them tightly.

you wondered why you had to go through that. you wanted to know what kind of karma there was for someone who had always tried to do the right thing to be hurt... and for nobody to even care. nobody wanted to console you, or to make sure you were alright.

you had checked up on everyone on every anniversary of their struggles. whether it be a death, abduction, anything, you had been there for every single anniversary or reminder. and nobody was there for you.

nobody was there for you to hug, or to lean on, or to cry to, or to scream at, or to rant to. nobody was there. nobody loved you enough to care about that.

but then you had to remind yourself that they all had lives.

but the person who is your life didn't even care.

spencer didn't care.

and that's why you truly lost it.

he acted like it was just another day. he acted like it wasn't the anniversary of the day you thought you were going to die. the day you wanted to die. the day you felt your most low, and humiliated. the day you lost all hope. and he didn't remember.

if the man with an eidetic memory didn't remember, it must be extremely insignificant. so therefore, you must be extremely insignificant.

spencer raced to your house. he wanted to be there for you today, and he failed. he felt like a failure as a friend. he hated himself for not being there for you when he knew you would need him. he knew how you clung to him in your time of need. you thought he was worthy enough to hold onto when you needed someone, and spencer felt elated at that.

but now he wasn't there for you. and you needed him.

he had quickly stopped by the store and your favorite takeout place to get the things you'd want. he got your wine, chocolate, food, flowers, and a teddy bear that had a sweater vest on him - you've always loved his sweater vests.

when he got to the steps of your house, he felt his heart drop. as he walked closer he heard the wails of your crying right by the door. he could sense the heartache from the edge of your porch, and felt himself feel even worse, which he didn't think was possible.

he instantly ran to the door and knocked profusely. you sniffled one last time, feeling embarrassed that someone had heard you crying your heart out. you had figured one of your neighbors heard you and wanted to tell you to keep it down, so you wiped your tears and the stray mascara from underneath your eyes and opened the door, keeping your eyes lowered in embarrassment.

"y/n," spencer announced sadly, a tear falling down his face. you looked up in confusion from hearing his voice. you noticed his tear and reached up to wipe it away on instinct.

"why're you crying? are you okay?" you asked, forgetting all of your own problems at the sight of spencer crying. spencer let out a small chuckle at your concern.

"i'm alright, aside from the fact that i'm a terrible friend," he admitted as his smile quickly faded upon seeing your stained cheeks. "i brought your favorites," he offered, holding the bag of goodies in one hand and the takeout in another.

"y-you... why?" you asked, wanting to make sure you weren't misreading the situation for him trying to comfort you.

"why?" he asked in disbelief. "because it's the anniversary. i can't tell you how sorry i am, y/n. i swear i marked it on my calendar and planned for us to take off so i could take care of you. i-i just woke up late and never bothered to even check my phone. i kn-know it's no excuse... but i am so, so, so sorry," he rambled out, already tearing up.

you grabbed his arm gently and pulled him inside before you started crying in front of your neighbors. you took the bags from his hands and placed them on your coffee table.

"i thought you just didn't care," you shrugged as you took a seat on the couch, prompting him to sit beside you.

"y/n..." he sighed as he realized how terrible he screwed up. "i will always care about this. i will always care about you. don't ever think differently. i'm just incredibly... dumb sometimes. i can't believe i made you think that," he trailed on. "i will never not care about you, y/n. i swear it. i will always, always care about you. i will always love you," he froze as he realized what he just revealed. your eyes widened, and squinted, and roamed his face, trying to figure out if he meant the words he had just sped out. "i truly do, y/n. i i’m in love with you and i'm so sorry i made it seem otherwise."

it took you a second to absorb everything that he had said.

"you too," you solemnly admitted. "i’m in love with you too. and i could forgive you... for almost forgetting," you gave him a small smile.

"i'm glad you could forgive me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't," he relished. "you actually love me?" you nodded with a small smile.

"i have for a while," you turned your head to the bags on the table.

"oh! right!" he said, reaching for the gifts. "i got your favorite takeout, your favorite wine, your favorite chocolates, flowers, and..." he trailed on as he revealed each item. "i saw this teddy, and i couldn't resist," he smiled.

you took the bear, taking in its appearance. it had a light blue, navy, and white diamond pattern sweater vest and brown shoes on. it looked like spencer, just teddy bear form. you smiled widely at the sentiment.

"it's you," you grinned as you took it in your arms, hugging it tightly as you saw spencer nodded with a smile mirroring that of your own. "i love it," you chuckled.

"i would understand, the fur is really soft," he relished in the thought.

"i don't think he'd be as good of a cuddler as the real thing, though," you grimaced. "but he'll do for when i don't have you here i guess," you shrugged with a smile.

"i plan on being here as long as you'll let me," he said softly.

"always," you grinned, setting down the teddy bear and trading him for the real spencer reid.

"always," he repeated, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if you'd float away at any moment. "now let's dig into this food while you talk about your feelings, if you want that is," he said after releasing you from the hug.

"i think i want to," you nodded. "and spence?" he turned from getting the food out of the bag to look at you for a second. "thank you for being my rock through all of this."

"i'll always be your rock, y/n."

@averyhotchner @greenprisca @muffin-cup

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

* * *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully.

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

11 Minutes

A/N: Hi this is lovely based on the song 11 Minutes by Yungblud featuring Halsey, so if you’ve heard that song before, man I’m really sorry for this one. If you haven’t... man I’m really really sorry for this one. Also yes this is really short I’m sorry.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: death of a major character, car accident, therapy

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4K

____

“Spencer, the last two times that I’ve seen you, we’ve sat in silence,” the doctor pointed out, obviously annoyed that her patient, who ironically enough had more PhDs, was wasting their time. “I know it’s hard to start, but the best place to, is from the beginning.”

“Y/N. Their name was Y/N.” This was the first time Doctor Fredricks heard Spencer say anything besides their usual before meeting greetings, and after meetings scheduling. “I heard it all, you know?”

“Heard what, Spencer?”

“Everything.”

“Spencer, I promise you I am getting in the car now. You’ll get to see me in 15 minutes,” you laughed into the phone at your very impatient boyfriend.

“Actually, I’ll see you in 17 minutes and 42 seconds give or take traffic patterns and how awful your first attempt at parking is.” It had been exactly 9 days 7 hours 24 minutes and 43 seconds since you last saw Spencer, and he wasn’t the one counting down by the second this time.

“Hey!” You barked right back. You weren’t the greatest parker in the world, but there was no need to mention it. “I could walk and skip the parking altogether.”

“No,” he whined, growing more impatient by the second. “That’ll take you an hour, and it’s been enough time since I got to see you. Please love bug, I take back the parking comment.”

“Alright, alright, alright. You’re getting off the hook...” you said as you put the key in the engine, but before you turned the car on, you mumbled, “this time.”

“I heard that!” You couldn’t stop the guilty giggle from escaping your throat and into the speaker of the phone. “Did I just hear your car turn on? I’m hanging u-”

“No, sh. I’m putting you on speaker. Don’t worry, doctor. I’m not on my phone while driving.” Of course Spencer would be nervous about you being distracted by anything while driving, he had the statistics lodged in his brain about car accident deaths.

“Did you know that roughly 1.35 mi-”

“Million people in the US die on the road with an average of 3,700 per day? How could I forget?” You cut him off, hearing this rant every time you went to change the station on your car radio.

“You’re on speaker, and I’ve been driving for 2 minutes already. I think I’ll be fine for the next 15, I promise.” You both knew it was ridiculous to stay on the phone as you headed over to his apartment. It was like the two of you couldn’t wait another second without the other, and thankfully modern technology granted you both that.

“It’s dangerous, love bug, and you know it.” Spencer just would not give up, would he? You’ve had your license for over a decade, and yet he held onto the handle next to his window as if he was your mother teaching you to drive for the first time whenever he was in the car with you. “Plus you speed.”

“What can I say? I like to live on the danger side. Plus do you really want to talk about car deaths, or can I yell at you for insulting my driving TWICE now,” you joked, feigning offense to Spencer’s truthful mean comments about your driving.

“I would much rather talk about how much I missed you,” he sweet-talked to you. While it was cute and all, you knew it was just so you would immediately forget about his little backhand driving comments.

“I missed you, too, my love.” Of course it worked. It was Spencer Goddamn Reid.

“How much longer?” The tone of a little boy in a candy shop whose parents just said no to pounds of sugar returned. You smiled and shook your head to yourself.

“According to maps, 13 minutes.” You let your mind wander as you stared out into the road ahead of you. How did you get so lucky with Spencer?

The day you two reached for the same book in a small library that was almost hidden to the street outside was the best day of your life. You and Spencer talked for hours about Emily Dickinson, other authors, composers and personal lives. It felt natural to spend time with him, and if you could, you’d spend every waking moment with him. That day, you hadn't even realized that 5 hours had passed, nor did you realize you never asked for his name in that amount of time.

“Don’t speed, but hurry up...please.”

“Spencer, how am I supposed to do those things at once?” The light turned red before you could run it, adding at least another 30 seconds before you got to see him.

“I’m 11 minutes away. The lights in this city just su-” You never got to finish your sentence, because the car behind you forgot to stop.

Your head shot forward, hitting the top of the steering wheel as your car and the pick up truck coming at you at 40 miles an hour made impact. Your car had involuntarily skidded in the middle of the intersection. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t a busy one.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?!” You hadn’t registered Spencer’s insistent yelling through the speaker in your phone until the ringing in your eyes subsided to a small dull.

“Y-Yeah,” you croaked out. “Some ass just hit me from behind.”

That’s when you looked to the left of you.

They say when people die, they see a white light at the end of a tunnel, but you saw two. You saw two headlights coming in your direction at a speed that you knew was impossible to stop. The weight the truck carried along with the amount of force used to halt the tires in their place made it so that the driver had no choice.

“You know I love you, Spencer. I love you so much.” You stared death in the eyes, it coming in the form of yellow lights and a blaring horn you knew Spencer could hear on the other end.

“Y/N, I-”

“I never got the chance to actually say it back.” Spencer finished recollecting your death, something he only did in the comfort of his home, alone with nothing but the silent sobs that raked through his body.

“Spencer, you don’t have to tell me for me to know that you blame yourself,” Dr. Fredricks spoke calmly, too calm for Spencer’s liking. He had just told her about the worst moment of his life, and she still held the same tone as if she was saying see you next week.

“How could I not?” He started to get more upset by the second, his voice rising in volume and his body leaning forward. “How do I sit here, and not blame myself? I called them that day. I was the one that rushed them. Me, no one else, but me!”

“Were you driving either cars that hit them?” Spencer knew what she was doing. Dr. Fredricks was trying to get him to admit it wasn’t his fault, so instead of giving in, he stayed silent. She sighed before continuing.

“You need closure, Spencer. The wound is still so fresh that it will never start to heal if you don’t let it.” At this, Spencer sat back and fiddled with his fingers.

She was right. He needed to start healing instead of ripping the wound farther across this heart, cutting deeper each time.

“That’s all the time we have for today. You’ve made great progress this week, and I hope that we can follow that pattern next week as well.” Spencer smiled down at his therapist as he stood up to walk out.

“Oh, and Spencer,” Dr. Fredrick called out. He stopped and turned, expecting a reminder he didn’t need for next week’s time.

“Their last words were I love you. Don’t ever forget they meant it.”

Spencer finally let a tear run down his cheek, the first time he cried in front of anyone after your death.

He nodded before walking out onto the busy DC street. As he was walking, Spencer took out his phone, flipping it between hands, contemplating his next move.

‘Closure, Spencer. You need closure.’ He kept repeating in his mind.

Finding a bench, he sat down to search his contacts for the one name he couldn’t bring himself to delete.

Before Spencer could rethink his next move, he made it, pressing the call button. The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voicemail.

‘Hey! Sorry I missed you, I’m probably asleep. Leave a message, but I can’t promise I’ll listen to it. Bye!’

“Hey, love bug.”

____

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Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #gender neutral fanfic #spencer x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff

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not-poignant · 3 years

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I was thinking of how much work and effort you've poured into FFS and how you've had burnout and health issues since you've been writing it, and then I thought about how horrible Ef would feel knowing someone was experiencing all of that while trying to write his story and then I just felt really sad and protective of both of you.

I hope you're taking care of yourself. <3

I mean, I don't really like to think of it that way, because I get enough guilt from myself (and sometimes other people irl) and I don't want to feel guilty imagining what a fictional character feels re: how I live my life. And 'this person feels terrible about how you're treating yourself so maybe just don't treat yourself that bad so they don't feel terrible anymore' is like very much guilt-tripping. So you don't need to think about it that way anon!

Efnisien can't feel terrible about it, because he's a fictional construct, and I created this version of him mostly to help me get through the pandemic, and the story has very much succeeded at that, and I've talked about that a lot! :)

But quite aside from that - I've had burnout and health issues since I started writing. In fact, I started writing Falling Falling Stars as a way of coping with an even more severe burnout caused by The Ice Plague. It literally came into being as a comfort and catharsis fic for my own self-interest. I didn't really expect anyone to read it, except for like two people, my beta - who loves Efnisien - and...actually my beta lol.

I've always been very honest about being an ill writer. Chronically ill both in terms of mental illness and physical illness. That didn't start with Falling Falling Stars, and you may have missed it before, especially if you only came in to start reading re: the last year or so, but it's like... I have a big track record being very honest about everything from chronic suicidality, to cancer treatments, to burnout due to working too hard and seeing a therapist about it. I've taken long Patreon hiatuses, I didn't work on The Golden Age that Never Was for 8 months, like, me being burnt out, or exhausted, or sick, did not start with Falling Falling Stars.

It's one of the main reasons I write, because if I was healthier, I would have ended up in a different career choice. I write a lot of trauma recovery because I live a lot of trauma recovery. I tend to write characters who aren't actually going through as much as I am, because it starts to become one of those 'that seems unrealistic, no one is dealing with ALL of that stuff at the same time.' But some of us are.

Falling Falling Stars has been an incredibly helpful process for me, even though I've been sick and burnt out at times while writing it. And I've talked a fair bit about that too (maybe you've missed those posts, or maybe it's just easier to focus on the burnout ones). But here's a whole thread about it that I posted on Twitter. There's like 6 listed reasons in that thread re: how Falling Falling Stars has helped me so much, so I think reading that might help. :)

But even if Falling Falling Stars was really hard to write, and was causing more burnout, etc. I don't think imagining my characters feeling really awful about it, or thinking that they feel terrible on my behalf, is a very motivational thing for me to think about. I already have people in real life that wish I didn't push myself too hard, and you know what I do when I feel guilty? Hate myself. Try to hide my problems from them. And conceal the truth from others. You know what it doesn't do? Magically fix the fact that I work too hard to cope with incredible levels of incurable 24/7 pain, fatigue, PTSD and illness. I really really don't need to create more of that in my own head, y'know? Guilt might seem motivational, but it's not really that motivational.

I'm super happy that Efnisien doesn't feel terrible about how I live my life because he's just a character, and he doesn't feel anything about me at all. He doesn't even know I exist. Writing stories is a place I can go to not experience extra guilt and the difficulties of interacting with real people who might go: 'You know I feel awful that you treat yourself this way' and make my problems about themselves, and make me feel responsible for something that isn't actually my issue at the end of the day. (If they feel that bad about it, probably they need to either not be my friend, or see someone about how to cope with their own helplessness, because if other people truly thought that kind of thinking would fix me, I'd be fixed). I know you mean well anon, it might even be a way of thinking that really helps you! And if it does, I'm really glad that it does.

But I'm not looking to feel guiltier about being a sick person who engages in unhealthy behaviours sometimes to cope with being a sick person. And I love Falling Falling Stars, and I've already cut back on how much I was writing it compared to this time last year. (Which I've also mentioned in posts).

I cannot avoid burnout. Even if I did nothing, eventually being this sick just runs my body and brain into the ground. Sometimes waking up and having a shower makes me so tired I start crying and have to go back to bed. I'd rather experience burnout while also getting to feel productive, engaging with people online, enjoying myself and getting to write someone's trauma recovery! Rather than just by lying in bed, still getting brain fog, still feeling agony, still being exhausted, etc. Like obviously I need to learn to strike a balance with it, but I'm better at it than I used to be.

Take care, anon!

#asks and answers #personal #mental health #mental illness #efnisien ap wledig #falling falling stars #fae tales #fae tales AU #burnout isn't something that anyone else needs to fix #and it's not something i can fix either #it's literally a fundamental part of my reality #yes sometimes i make it worse #but sometimes other people make it worse #and sometimes i make it better #i don't need my characters to come to life and start making me feel bad #for feeling bad #by telling me how 'terrible' they feel #idk anon some people's coping mechanisms aren't other people's coping mechanisms and that's okay #and FFS did not in any way create any new problems that i didn't have for two and a half decades before that

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 2 years

Text

okay i tried not to write a post about this but anyway here we go. so last night, on my fb watch feed, i decided to watch this irritating entrepreneur girl who was easily like 22 or so, try to give life advice about “how to be an entrepreneur!!” and “how to be rich like me by 22!!!” here’s some of the worst advice she had:

(1.) every millionaire/billionaire has several streams of income. for example i have my music/YT channel, my 8 businesses, my sponsorship deals, my several online classes that i teach on how to become a millionaire by 22!!! my upcoming ventures and art!!! my house, the condo that i rent out and stocks!!! so all up i have about 7 streams of income and if you don’t have my mindset you’re just weak and will never survive in this world 😊!

(2.) always work for free!!! bc you’re useless without experience. for example most of my first YT videos i did with brands were done for free. always take free/unpaid internships or work experience, and don’t think you have to get paid for everything!! get off of your high horse of self righteousness and work like a minion for free to build your portfolio so people will learn to take you seriously!!! because if you always expect to get paid, no one will take you seriously even with a portfolio. (remember: all of this will make you humble for your forced efforts of labour and capital! be grateful that they even took you on 😊!)

(3.) remember we all have the same 24 hours in a day as beyoncé!!! remember it’s all in your mindset!!! use all 24 hours to constantly level up. always believe in the laws of attraction so always have vision boards ready!!!

(4.) ok not to stop being cutesy and feel good (😊🥰) but always have a great therapist and life coach on hand when your mental health goes down hill!!! trust me, i used to be like “i’m all happy go lucky all the time!!! i’m a ray of sunlight!!” but y’all i was lying and i know y’all are too!! always have a therapist/life coach to get you away from your negative thought spirals!!!

(5.) any friend who doesn’t support your streams of income or your business goals which should always involve girlbossing far too close to the sun… cut them out *snip snip* of your life…. so that you can afford the cutting out of toxic and unsupportive people out of your life to only have unwavering support always in your circle! just have a completely relentless drive to build income for yourself!!! no matter how many bridges you burn and friends you sever from your immediate circle!!!

and there was so much else. but good god. it was just awful and i have no idea why i thought it was a good idea to watch this train wreck of a money advice video from an already rich and overly privileged early 20 something YTer. and luckily no one was taking her advice seriously…. since she was so young and was SO VERY OBVIOUSLY coming from a place of immense privilege and comfort. like ok. the therapist advice is good advice, if only therapy was actually affordable to everyone in the US (bc yes this girl was american). but even as an aussie, therapy isn’t that affordable either, and especially while job-searching on the aussie job seeking social security payment. my old therapist has closed her books bc of the pandemic, and i’m kind of like iffy i guess with the idea of therapist trialling/shopping, besides the point that i actually don’t have much time or money for it either.

like obvs i am defs not her target audience, being poor and all. but like what the fuck. who the fuck wants to waste their time with 7 streams of income and just caring about business ventures and always severing friends who “don’t serve you and your dreams and business visions” at every step of the way???? what a fucking atrocious way to live your life: only relentlessly caring about how much money you make every second of the day at such a young age. bc like this girl is 21 or 22… where the fuck are her breaks from all her supposed “work” and “business ventures” and “streams of income” and her “mindset”???? what the fuck.

bc where the fuck are her friends for fun and frivolous brunch dates??? for deep talks and heartfelt shit when or if her life goes up in flames or ends up in tatters after one (1) wrong social media move that gets her cancelled forever???? because let me tell you now, josie, it sure as fuck won’t be your precious buddy-buddy business opportunist/venture capitalist sponsors and investors. bc they’ll all drop you like a fucking hot potato if you do something terrible or slip up even the tiniest bit. bc no one wants to clean up that PR etc nightmare.

i liked that everyone was calling her incredibly short sighted and clueless in the comments on the video, in regards to her comments about “always work for free to build your resume and to prove yourself as worthy to everyone!“ and the dreaded bullshit of “we all have the same 24 hours in a day, so what on earth is stopping you from having 10 streams of income and working yourself to death????” oh that’s right! your mindset! if you always have a bad mindset of “i’ll never achieve anything feel sorry for me and my business dreams!” you don’t deserve to be successful. and that’s that! stop lying to yourself and making excuses for yourself and your mindset will improve!!!” i love how everyone in the comments was pointing out that this sounds/sounded incredibly MLM-y/ish. bc this is the exact type of toxic bullshit that people say MLM people use to pull them into selling their snake oil bullshit.

like. i absolutely will not work for free josie. no one should be expected to do that now in a global pandemic. i deserve pay for wasting my time doing a spreadsheet for a boutique marketing firm in sydney during an internship, no matter how long it is. or if it’s not something in marketing, i deserve to get paid a full fair wage for working in retail or food, since apparently that’s all i’m good for, even with a marketing advanced diploma and 2 degrees but no “solid professional job experience”. i do not want your absolutely bullshit mindset advice in your completely and utterly vapid and self-aggrandising courses about “how to be a millionaire/billionaire by 21 💸💵💰💳💲💲🤑🤑🤩👸🏻💎!!” when i know that you’re probably already from some type of very privileged background anyway, being a spoilt YTer already. i am NOT making excuses for wanting to be treated fairly and paid accordingly. and nor is anyone else today, in the hellscape that is the “competitive job market”, no matter what country you live in and also the pandemic et al.

also, for everyone who has to pay rent and pay gas/electricity and water etc etc etc bills, how the fuck are they going to pay for all of that if “oh work for free and for vibes and proper mindset building!”….. all of which don’t pay fucking jack shit in real life. vision boards only work for rich people who can then claim it was “the attraction pull of the universe and fate and manifest destiny!” instead of them realistically paying hundreds if not thousands or millions of dollars for sponsorship deals by negotiating contracts or whatever else. the “universe” and “fate” barely ever work in favour of the working class and the poor. bc no law of attraction is going to give me a paid traineeship, all because i manifested my destiny onto some shitty but aesthetically pleasing vision board with inspirational quotes on my bedroom wall. btw how the hell are you paying the rent and bills on your house and your rented out condo???? because i’m sure as fuck that it isn’t through manifest destiny and the universe aligning correctly with your specific business goals, is it??? it’s either your parents money or possibly yours.

she did have an obvious piece of advice that you see all the time, of “have a savings only acc that you can’t touch to really save your money!” but as i said above, when the cost of living is going up globally because of the pandemic, how the fuck is anyone able to save money anyway???? like i’m even finding it hard living at home on social security (given my pay is only $630 a fortnight, and this girl was talking like apparently $20,000 a month from her “7 streams of income” or some shit- so that’s already VASTLY out of touch with everyone in the comments watching the video). but also, as mentioned above, josie, how the fuck am i meant to save money if you’re spinning the bs of “always work for free!”…. like are my savings coming from my vision board???? from the severed ties of all the friends (or haters) that don’t support my streams of income and “girlboss goals”??? from my stupidly expensive life coach from linkedin???

just. it was one of the worst things i’ve ever watched tbh. and it shows just how incredibly fucking toxic hustle/grind/productivity culture along with toxic positivity and the bs spiels about vision boards and “manifest destiny” are to these grind all day people; but also to society at large. because why the fuck don’t i deserve a rest and friends that are for silly or frivolous things??? because who the fuck will be around when i have my inevitable mental breakdown and burnout bc i overwork myself every day of my life??? just my therapist??? wow that’s helpful. when i only see them once a week or a month or even once every few months, bc they’re regularly booked out.

and what about the people who can’t get access to therapists bc they’ve shut their books bc of the influx of patients during the…. uh *checks smudged writing on hand* worldwide pandemic??? what then, josie??? what then??? bc i don’t care how much of a “lone wolf *insert myers briggs personality type here*” or “over-competitive anal perfectionist” you are, or someone else is, josie. because you (or someone else) NEED/S REAL FRIENDS FOR REAL LIFE PROBLEMS. not just girlboss business besties and your therapist/life coach in your little “girlboss bitch queen pack ✌🏻🙌🏻👍🏻💪🏻👏🏻✨✨💃🏻💅🏻👩🏻‍💻👩🏻‍💼📈” social media and real life echo chamber, as if you’re like a mean girls regina george social media business maven/guru.

and also, why does everything have to apparently judged by my constant output for income??? what the actual fuck. i am not a machine josie (whatever the fuck her name was i don’t care). i will not sever ties with friends bc some bullshit concept of manifest destiny and my vision board for 10 businesses that i must have by like 25 told me so.

okay yeah, as part of the generation who watched way too many eps of teen cribs/cribs on mtv and way too much E! celeb channel bc of the kardashians (*cough, cough; nudge, nudge; wink, wink* kylie jenner is a self made billionaire *repeat above*), i DID want to be a millionaire or just generally rich when i was a kid. but holy fucking hell. if being rich means only having friends that continually serve your business needs and vision boards and “always work for free because you’re spoilt rotten if you think you deserve any compensation for your time and work, most especially when you’re starting out!” then count me the fuck out, actually.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona shares the most mundane shit she does with her followers lol #ilona’s job hunting thoughts and woes lmao

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et-lesailes · 4 years

Text

iron crush

pairing: tony stark x reader

word count: 1952

summary: you’re a college student as well as roommates/best friends with peter parker, but you’ve developed a bit of a crush on his world famous, superhero mentor tony stark.

themes: age gap, smut

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @denisemarieangelina, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @hurricanerinwrites, @captainamerica-is-bae, @shaddixlife, @tessa-bl, @marvelouspottering, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @thegetawaywriter, @dwights-new-plague, @rynabarnesrogers, @fckdeusername, @doloreschanal, @ssworldofsw, @la-cey, @buckybarnesplumwhore, @hevans-angel, @chuckbass-love, @stardust-galaxies, @smyfmj

notes: in this story, peter and reader are 18! I know the opening scene is literally from civil war where peter is a minor in high school but shhh just pretend :))) also sorry if you’re tagged and don’t care for tony, i haven’t really been separating my permanent taglist and my cevans only taglist because it’s a lot of work gjfjdjg so just ignore if you don’t want to read, no worries! also as always, graphic creds go to @thewritingdoll !

You first met him that fateful day he was waiting for Peter in his apartment itself, casually chatting with Aunt May while pretending to enjoy her walnut date loaves. Being Peter’s childhood friend, you’ve known of his Spider-Man secret ever since he became the masked hero, and it hadn’t been difficult for you to figure out that Tony was there for Avengers related reasons. You remember the piercing eye contact you made, the way his brown eyes lingered over you in surprise and approval; you had felt flattered beyond belief that you were even noticed in such a way when you were in the same room as Peter’s abnormally attractive aunt.

Fast forward a few months later, and you, Peter, and your other friend Ned now have an apartment of your own. The three of you have always been inseparable; you see them as brothers and you can trust them to have your back, just like you and Ned have Peter’s whenever he’s called to save the neighborhood (and, lately, many areas outside of it).

You’re on your belly on your bed in a tank and shorts, taking notes while skimming through your psychology textbook when you hear a knock on the door. You roll your eyes- Ned always forgets his keys, which is why you tend to leave the door unlocked whenever it’s just you at home. It’s difficult to worry much about crime when you literally live with a world famous superhero. “It’s open!” you call, eyes still scanning the words on the pages before you. The door opens and you hear footsteps, louder and louder until they’ve come to your doorway. “Have you just, permanently lost your keys or something?” you ask in amusement, not even bothering to look up at your roommate.

“Didn’t get any to begin with, actually. Got a copy for me? Would be pretty helpful considering the kid never answers his goddamn phone.”

Your head immediately snaps up, your eyes widening slightly as you stare at the grown man at the entrance of your bedroom who is very clearly not Ned. “Tony!” you exclaim in surprise, moving to sit up on your knees as you gaze up at him somewhat embarrassed- and suddenly feeling much more naked. You’re comfortable with limited clothing around Peter and Ned, you’ve known them practically your whole life- but Tony is someone you’ve seen all over television, only met once… and have the slightest crush on. You’ve always loved a man with confidence, and while Tony has too much of it, you can’t help but find it appealing. You clear your throat, trying not to blush from his amused expression. “Uh, yeah, Peter’s not home right now… do you want me to text him? Maybe he’ll reply to me?”

“What? Reply to his cute best friend he drools over on a daily basis- over replying to me? No way.” Tony smirks slightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and you find yourself blushing deeper- though you arch an eyebrow, more than happy to confront what he’s just said. “Cute?” you repeat, and he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe as he takes your appearance in. “Yeah. Cute. What, haven’t heard it before? Because I highly doubt that.”

“Not from a man twice my age, no,” you tease, suddenly feeling a little more confidence as you sit up a little straighter, remaining on your knees, “and Peter does not drool over me. Trust me, our relationship is not like that. We’ve known each other for too long.” Tony keeps his eyes on you for a few moments before suddenly nodding towards your textbook. “Whatchya working on?” You blink, glancing towards your notes. “Psychology. It’s my major.”

“So how do you read me?” he asks, and you assume he’s being some type of smart ass- after all, whenever you tell someone your major is psychology they immediately bring out the “so you can read my mind” joke- but when you look up at his expression, he actually seems genuinely curious. “Lonely.” You reply candidly, eyebrow lifting slightly. “Bored, always running out of things to do so you focus way too much on work.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s because I save the world for a living. Kind of has to be on my mind 24/7, doesn’t it?”

“Yikes, getting a little defensive, hm, Tony?” you tease with a smirk, knowing he can handle it. “That’s never a good sign in counseling…”

“Oh, are you my counselor now?” he scoffs, but the corner of his lip is tugged slightly upward, clearly able to banter just as much as you. “Alright. I’ll bite.” He comes into your room and sits down at the edge of your bed right next to you, looking at you expectantly. “Tell me, O Mighty Therapist, what should I do to alleviate my pain?” he questions dramatically, and you laugh, reaching out to nudge him. “Maybe stop being a pain in the ass to other people? Let them in for once?”

He listens thoughtfully and you're expecting a snarky comment, but instead, he replies bluntly in a low murmur with a raised brow, “What if I want a certain someone to let me in?” It takes you a few moments to realize the innuendo, your blush immediately returning once you do. “Tony…”

He leans in, his eyes focused on yours. “I won’t tell anyone…” You stare up at his features, your breath slightly heavier. You feel a bit of guilt but the desperate want is overpowering it- come on, he’s Tony Stark, and he’s here in your bedroom asking you to fuck. Maybe it’s not for the best reasons, but you decide you don’t care. You grab his face and pull him down, kissing him fiercely in response.

Everything happens so fast. His lips move against yours in intense synchrony, his hands grabbing your waist to tackle you down onto your back on the bed before he reaches out to shove your textbook and notebook off the mattress entirely. You gasp but continue to kiss him, your legs naturally moving to wrap around his waist to keep his body pressed close against yours, already feeling turned on from the friction between you. Judging by the bulge currently pressing against your inner thigh, it’s safe to say he feels the same.

Neither of you even realize how absorbed in this kiss you are- you’re moving, practically rolling all over the place, until you roll off the bed itself. A squeal escapes your lips as both of you go tumbling onto the ground- thankfully carpeted- and you laugh breathlessly as you stare up at him, still underneath him. “Oops,” you whisper, but he just smirks and leans down to kiss you again, muttering huskily against your lips, “That’s alright, sweet cheeks, I can fuck you just as good on the floor too.” Your smile fades slightly, but only because of how aroused you’ve become just from hearing him. You’ve only ever slept with one guy before, and he was nowhere near as experienced or bold as Tony. You definitely needed this.

He notices your expression and smirks, staring down at you as he moves one hand down to rub his fingers against your shorts. “What’s up, Y/N? You like that idea? Me fucking you into the floor of your bedroom, with your door wide open?” Your lips open into a needy moan, though you completely forgot about the door situation. Fuck. You glance to it nervously, but he only applies more pressure to your clothed entrance, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re adorable, sweetheart. Think of it as a little adrenaline rush, hm? You have to take some risks sometimes, right?” He slips his fingers into your shorts and panties, rubbing your clit directly as he breathes out, “That’s my therapeutic advice to you…”

“A-ah…! Tony!” you moan lewdly, arching your back and staring up at him with wide eyes. “Please… I need more…”

He gladly obliges, his smirk growing wider as he eyes you hungrily. His fingers pump you skillfully, sliding in and out of your entrance and stretching you out, his thumb simultaneously teasing your clit. You’re a breathless mess of whimpers and whines, your head rolling back and your eyes shutting from the pleasure. The boy you were with before definitely didn’t know how to use his fingers. Tony, on the other hand, moves at the perfect, steady pace, actually listening to you to understand what you like and what’s working. The way he slightly crooks his fingers and expertly maneuvers them in subtle but hard hitting gestures inside your tight entrance is slowly making you uncoil- when he feels you tighten around his digits, he grins triumphantly. “Go ahead,” he commands breathlessly, “cum all over my fingers so I can taste you already…”

You obey with a gasp, coating his fingers with your release- he withdraws them and places them in his mouth, looking at you with a hungry little smirk. “Delicious,” he growls, his devious eyes filled with lust.

“Take off your clothes,” you breathe out suddenly, and he blinks before chuckling, pulling back slightly and obediently starting to unbutton his shirt. “For the record, I’m the one in charge here, but I also wanted to strip anyways,” he tells you playfully and you laugh, taking your own tank off feeling thankful you didn’t wear a bra that day. That would have been way too much work- you need him now. He stares down at you amazed, biting on his lip. “Damn. Your body is something else.” You widen your eyes upon seeing his cock when he removes his pants, clucking your tongue as you mumble, “I could say the same about you…”

He smirks and presses his throbbing erection against your sensitive entrance, his breaths heavy from anticipation. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, doll. Think I’m already addicted to you.”

He thrusts into you roughly at that moment, letting out a groan of pleasure as he pins you down against the floor. You cry out in happiness as you arch your back towards him, rocking your hips upwards against his and holding onto his back tightly. You don’t even care that you’re on a rug right now- comfort is the least of your concerns when he’s stretching you out so nicely, his brown eyes filled with hunger as he stares down at you in arousal. “You look so pretty underneath me, Y/N,” he murmurs huskily, grunting with eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his dick entering deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. “And you feel… mm… better than words can even describe…”

“Tony…! Oh, God, Tony- mm…!” You’re at a loss for words; the sensation is overwhelming, pushing you over the edge, filling every crevice of your mind with euphoria and delight. Your body’s beginning to quiver, your walls tightening around his cock- he smirks weakly in satisfaction, knowing you’re close. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, beautiful, I want you to cum for me… God… damn…”

Just as promised, he releases inside you, the feeling adding to your pleasure- you gasp in delight as you cum, your head rolling back and your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling. He lays on top of you for a bit before slowly lifting himself off, looking down at you with his signature smirk.

Before he can say anything, though, a voice belonging to a certain web-slinging eighteen-year-old boy standing at the doorway with a wide open mouth screams:

“What the fuck?!”

#tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tony stark fic

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jinxedpanda4life · 3 years

Text

Criminal Investigator AU HC

I would first like to start off by saying thank you to everyone.

I honestly did not expect the response I got to my Damirae Hospital AU HC list.

When I first woke up and checked tumblr ~13 hours after posting I had a holy shit moment.

I felt powerful, should I? Probably not.

But! Since I am noticing a lack of AUs in the fandom, whether on Tumblr, AO3 or FanFiction.net, whatever AU comes to my mind I shall jot down some hcs for!

Thank you all once again!

(Also trying format changes for easy reading)

(Also Also, I am thinking the story is less fluid but more episodic)

Let’s get started:

- So I’m thinking this is some FBI, SVU, and FBI BAU mixture or whatever. Basically all the great shows we know in love shoved together. From Bones to Criminal Minds and everything in between.

- Special Agent (Dr.) Raven Roth is a lead interrogator and is the resident psych consult.

She’s been educated in interrogation, behavioral science, psychology, forensic pathology, and criminology.

She has combat training (hand to hand), she carries (for her job) a gun and at all times has a knife/dagger on her person (people have stopped trying to figure out where she keeps them).

Her father was/is crime boss T. Trigon who is currently imprisoned.

Was born in the states but fled with her mother to Romania when she was a newborn.

When Trigon found them he killed Arella and took Raven, she was abut 9 - 10 years old.

She took her mother’s last name when she turned 18.

Knows two languages besides English; French, Romanian, Romani (various dialects but knows multiple), Greek and Latin

On more than one occasion some goon of her father’s tries to recruit her, every time she kicks their ass. (Damian was there for the most recent (he was still green though))

Lives by herself in a decent sized apartment, has a gun safe (gun safety is important!), a cat (Nevermore), and is a regular at a 24/7 bookstore &/ cafe

Can usually be found wearing some kind of jacket, sweater, cardigan

She once helped save some kids (Melvin, Tommy & Teether) and is now their surrogate aunt, she has photos of them at her desk @ work. (Damian assumes/ed that they were her kids)

She also, when she can, hangs out and babysits them on occasion.

Raven is part of a team consisting of Dick Grayson (unit leader), Kori Anders, Garfield Logan, Jaime Reyes, and very recently Damian Wayne

- Special Agent Damian Wayne is a lead investigator (he is still a bit fresh to the unit), translator, sniper and combat coordinator

He’s been educated in martial arts, explosives, hand to hand combat, close range combat, and combat (basically he knows how to kill you 9 ways to Sunday), also, behavioral science, computer science, criminology, linguistics and language.

He can easily translate (into English): Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Hindi, Bengali, French, Polish, German, Spanish, Portuguese, he can also learn any language you put in front of him and know the basics within a day

(Having lived in many places around the world he needed to be able to speak and understand in order to survive) (wow dramatic much?)

His father is currently the director (or deputy director, whatever floats ya boat) of the FBI.

His mother was essentially a secret agent who worked for various agencies around the globe. (deceased)

His grandfather was the leader of a, um, well to be honest, terrorist agency. (deceased)

Was sent to live with his father when he was 15 (when his mother died) and has been in the states ever since

Lives alone, he has an upscale apartment that he truthfully spends little time in, has multiple locations in the home where various weapons are stored, his place has a very cold atmosphere

Is either in proper work attire or in work out clothing, there is no in between

Tries and fails not to take work home with him

He sees a therapist (who says he should probably try investing in relationships with the people at his job)

His only “friend” (he hates calling him that, more like close acquaintance) is Jonathan Kent who was in his class at the FBI Academy, Jon works in a white collar crime department in Metropolis

The only person he actually kind of sort of doesn’t dislike is in fact Raven Roth, she’s a no bull shit person, he likes that

He may know Grayson because of how he’s Bruce’s kind of son but it does not mean he likes him

He finds Logan annoying as all hell, even if he is somewhat useful

He picked a fight with Reyes first day and regretted it (he will never admit that), he respects him

Anders is overly friendly in his opinion, kind of acts like a secretary with all that positivity and grates his nerves, he tolerates her

(Unlike last time I am not going in detail about the rest of the team, this will be brief)

- Supervisory Special Agent Dick Grayson (Unit Chief) is basically Dick Grayson with a big fancy title but all the same skills

He is also obsessed with Slade Wilson and Red X (who is Jason in this)

- Supervisory Special Agent Kori Anders is a lead investigator and is also a go to for undercover work

- Special Agent Garfield Logan is a lead interrogator, is head of the unit’s K-9 unit and kind of has a thing for Roth (which she does not reciprocate)

- Special Agent Jaime Reyes is a tactical analyst, tech analyst and is head of the unit’s SWAT team, he does not do well with talking with people, or change

The Scarab is a computing program that Jaime created himself

STORY START:

- When Damian first joins the team there is another member, Special Agent Terra Markov, she is revealed as a sleeper agent but she aligns herself with the team and sadly is shot and killed in a fire fight

- A couple weeks after Agent Markov’s death everyone is talking about what they are doing for an upcoming holiday, Damian says probably nothing, Raven invites him to spend it with her and her “niece” and “nephews,” he declines

- About a day after the holiday Damian is home looking through case files when someone knocks on his door

-- It is Raven. He asks how she knew where he lived, she says she asked Dick, she also says that she knows how it feels to be alone and that he may be insufferable but it doesn’t mean he can’t have a friend

-- His response is saying he isn’t the kind to make friends with co workers

-- “I’m not asking to be your friend Damian, I am asking you to be his,” She reveals a small black great dane puppy “I know that other people aren’t really your thing, but having someone in your corner and waiting for you is always nice, even if it isn’t human.”

-- Damian invites her in, names the dog Titus and thanks her

-- “Just make sure no one tries to kidnap and kill you, we don’t need you to go full blown John Wick.” Damian has no idea who that is. Raven tells him it is an action movie series that he should watch. She leaves. He does watch them that night with Titus on his lap. (after having gone to the local pet supply store to get everything he needs) The action is inaccurate but he enjoyed the movies none the less, and decides that he probably would go into John Wick mode if someone hurt Titus.

- SA Roth and SA Wayne are sent to a high security federal prison to interrogate a prisoner, who refuses to speak

-- When they get into the interview room the prisoner does start to speak, but not in English and not in a language Damian is fluent in

-- Raven on the other hand immediately responds to the prisoner (shocking the prisoner and Damian) “He is speaking Romani though not the dialect of those overseas, he learned it here.”

-- Damian is fascinated by it and they are essentially switching roles the entire time

-- They leave having successfully interviewing the prisoner, and Raven leaves behind a written list of common words in Romani so that they can possibly communicate with the prisoner better

-- As soon as they are on the plane back Damian asks her a myriad of questions from “How many languages do you know?” to “When did you learn that?” and even “Are you a spy? Sleeper agent? Part of a terrorist cell?”

-- “Not as many as you, when I was a child, if I was part of any of that you wouldn’t be asking.” The rest of the trip is spent with her teaching him Romani and even some Romanian

- Dick & Kori eventually get together and after a while they break up. Kori takes some vacation time. At the same Dick has been temporarily reassigned to another unit.

-- Chaos ensues

-- Garfield thinks he should be the interim unit chief, Jaime thinks the same, as does, you guessed it, Damian (Raven doesn’t want to she is comfortable with her role on the team)

-- In the end they are assigned an interim unit chief, SSA Jason Todd, who usually works overseas on covert op missions (not gonna lie this could easily flow into a Jayrae thing)

-- Everyone kind of falls into line, except Damian, Damian doesn’t like him for two reasons

1) He doesn’t act serious about the job 24/7

2) He has been flirting and hitting on Raven the moment he stepped into their sector

-- Damian hates the names he gives her; “Little Bird,” “Sunshine,” “Princess,” “Rae,” (no one calls her Rae, not even Garfield, at least not after the incident) etc.

-- (Little does Damian know, Jason and Raven have worked together before and are actually friends)

-- This all comes to a head when Damian and Jason are the only ones still in the office after a tiring case.

“You shouldn’t do that you know.”

“Do what? All I am doing right now is contemplating where Grayson keeps the liquor.”

“Call Raven all those names, she doesn’t like it.”

“Really? Because if you haven’t noticed she hasn’t exactly asked me to stop.”

“She gets uncomfortable, maybe not to the extent of asking you to stop, but she tenses up and her body language becomes slightly more agitated.”

“You seem to pay a lot of attention in how she reacts to thinks baby brat. Seems to me that you like her.”

“Of course I like her, she is a good friend and reliable teammate.”

“No, you like like her.”

“That presumption is juvenile.”

“But you don’t deny it.”

“Tch.”

-- If anything after that conversation Jason seems to doubled his advances. Which confuses both Damian and Raven. Damian because it is inappropriate and HR will be hearing about this. Raven because she was under the assumption that she and Jason were just friends. (Jason actually does have genuine intentions but is like 60% just egging Damian on)

-- Eventually (far too long for Damian’s tastes), both Dick and Kori return. At first it is sooooooo awkward. Like mom and dad divorced have shared custody but don’t hate each other but also cannot look each other in the eye. ((Was that a mouthful? Good)) No one can really look at each other the same? Though they do have a meeting to sort it out, get everything out in the open.

- Raven’s annual kidnapping/attempt to convert her/torture comes almost exactly one year after Damian joined the team (this is his 2nd time dealing with this)

-- This time Damian is prepared. By prepared I mean Raven doesn’t even leave her apartment before she is taken to safety.

“Damian what is going on?”

“Christmas came early this year that’s what.”

“Christmas? What in gods name are you talking about.”

“God has no dealings in this matter.”

“You do realize you are sounding like a bad action movie? It is not even 6 am and I am in your car going somewhere, I have had little to no sleep and I am barely dressed. What is going on?” Damian hadn’t payed attention to what clothing Raven was wearing. His mind was on one goal. Find Raven, keep Raven safe. His eyes glanced off the road enough to realize she was indeed not properly dressed. Her body was merely adorned with an oversized tee-shirt, tiny barely there shorts and a pair of fluffy socks.

“I apologize, it appears in my haste I did not leave you time to properly clothe yourself. As to why you are here, it seems your father and his people have shortened their waiting time this year from one year to a little more than ten months.” Ravens hands fisted her shirt. “This time I was prepared,” last time he was still new to everything, last time he made mistakes, this time there will be no mistakes. “Since our last encounter with your demon, so to speak, I have been setting in place precautions and safety measures to ensure Nevermore and yours’ safety. I have also been tracking the movements of his big players. If any came close I would mark it down. Multiple are entering the city at this moment. Seeing as you we taken last time I have made plans to ensure that will not happen again.” The car made a snap turn down an unfamiliar street pulling Raven from her clouded gaze.

“So I am going to be okay this time?” Her voice was faint and restraining against hope.

“You’re going to be okay.” His hand lightly held hers. Only to stop the shaking, they told themselves, only to make everything better. “Nevermore is with Titus at my place being watched by a friend of mine. I have already walked Grayson through everything we will not be expected at work this week, but we can work remotely.”

“We?”

“I’m not going to leave you. Ever.”

-- ((Sorry for the blocks of text))

-- As Raven finds out they are at one of Damian’s safe houses. The one least likely to be tied to her. It is fully stocked with food, has security cameras and if needed weapons. The only problem is that the only clothes there are Damians.

“Thought of everything huh?”

“I was following their pattern, I expected to have more time to acquire clothing for you.” (he was looking away and blushing, you cannot tell me he wasn’t)

-- Raven just resigns herself to wearing Damian’s clothes, yes his brain does stop working for a hot second when he sees her in only his clothes.

-- All attempts to try and retrieve codename: Gem of Scath are foiled (like some good math)

-- So many bonding moments happen. Cuddling (pure accident *rolls eyes*), eating together, inside jokes, etc. At one point Damian answers her phone (he disabled and disconnected the tracer) to one of the mob guys after them.

“Hello?”

“You can hide the gem but we will find her.”

“I’m sorry, is there a jewel you are looking for? I don’t think I have and any jewels that I am coveting.”

“We know you are with her! It is but a matter of time until we collect her.”

“I hope you do eventually find whatever you are looking for sir, but I haven’t the slightest idea the gem you speak of. If you could give me a physical description? Is it a ruby, diamond, onyx? Is it round or more of a pear shape?”

“...”

“Well, I will look for it here, but I do not believe I possess what you speak of. Will you give me your number so I can call you back?” (The line cuts dead, and Raven can be seen laughing in the background, the phone was on speaker)

-- Once the team tracks down, arrests and interrogates all of the parties working for Trigon; Raven and Nevermore can go home. Though both are reluctant in their own way. Nevermore has grown attached to Titus, and Raven well Raven has feelings. Sadly, as Raven knows, feelings are dangerous to have in their line of work.

-- Look at Dick and Kori they were together and then they fell apart and the team almost imploded.

-- What about Trigon if he finds out about Damian and how she feels towards him? What kind of danger will he be in then?

-- Like all of her feelings Raven puts them in a box and locks the box away. Not just figuratively, in her safe there is a box with: post its, torn papers, journals, etc. That box has a lock on it. Whenever she has a new feeling that she cannot ignore, like her feelings towards Special Agent Wayne, she takes out the box and writes her feelings down. They can range from a single sentence to pages worth. (Her feelings towards Damian fill a small notebook she has on hand). Once she has written all of her feelings out she places them in the box, locks said box and then places the locked box in her safe, which she then locks.

-- Is this a healthy way to cope with her feelings? Maybe not. But, it is way better than how Damian deals with his. Violence. Also art but violence comes first.

- At this point both Damian and Raven have caught the feelings (highly contagious I hear), which makes this a little awkward and a little not awkward. For one everyone but Raven knows how Damian feels towards her. He does things for her and with her that no one else gets the privilege to.

-- To list a few:

--- He brings her tea whenever he gets himself coffee or tea

--- He talks to her about what he does outside of work, even about his kind of friend definitely not enemy, Jon.

--- They socialize outside of work. Watching bad movies (some of them are not that bad), going to the park with Titus (they once got Nevermore in a leash and walked her), meeting each other before and after work to get breakfast or dinner.

--- He doesn’t glare at her

--- He allows physical contact between the two

--- He worries about her (hello he created an entire plan so that she wouldn’t get kidnapped, with contingencies and everything, garfield would be lucky to get a plan)

--- His eyes light up when she talks, or enters a room, or you know exists in his vicinity

--- He actually smiles around her (Dick caught him smiling once at Raven and he though Damian was having a stroke)

-- Even though everyone knows Damian likes Raven, very few know that Raven likes Damian back. (this only includes; Kori, Dick, Jason, Titus, Nevermore, and Melvin) She does do certain things that give herself away just like Damian.

--The list:

--- When Damian gets frustrated or angry she puts a hand on his arm, or holds his hand

--- She laughs at things he does (light chuckles, or little giggles)

--- She will talk to him about his interests and actively tries to have conversations with him about things unrelated to work.

--- She blushes when he does something unexpected (like a compliment)((Mostly she tries to hide it until he isn’t looking at her))(((Kori has caught the blush before)))

-- Luckily for them it does not take some cliche ‘One suddenly becomes in danger and the other one saves them only to be close to death and then they admit their love for one another and promise to go on a date when the other is healed’ situation.

-- Damian actually asks Raven out after being tipped of by Jason and Dick that she may like him back. Damian finds out when they have days off at the same time and asks her while leaving work.

“Raven, you have this weekend off correct?”

“Yeah I do. I wasn’t planning on doing anything though. Did you have something in mind?”

“Um, yeah, heh, I was wondering if you would do me the pleasure of going to dinner with me tomorrow.” *Awkwardly rubs back of neck*

“Like a date or two friends going to dinner?” *Thinks she sounds harsh* “I am honestly fine with either since we are friends.” *nervous smile*

“Like a date if that is okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, yeah totally that is totally okay with me.” *Starts sounding like a teenage girl who only knows about 10 words, because she’s nervous*

“Good, I’ll be by your place around 1830, if that is okay?” *nerve central, the central nervous system could never*

“Yup that is totally fine with me.”

“Great.”

“Good.” The elevator opens in the knick of time.

“See you tomorrow evening Agent Roth. Have a good night.”

“You too, Agent Wayne, you too.”

-- When Damian does pick her up he feels like his brain is going to explode. She looks absolutely breathtaking. This is just like all the other times they’ve gone to dinner, except this restaurant is slightly fancier and they are on a date.

-- Raven feels as though all her emotions are leaking out at once, she has no idea what she is doing.

-- In the end they have a good time and decide to do it again. Damian does bring up that all of the breakfasts and dinners they regularly do could now be considered dates. Raven does not oppose that switch at all.

- Fast forward a handful of years (like 3?), Damian and Raven are moved in together (Nevermore and Titus are happy about this, they even allow the humans to adopt another pet, a cat named Alfred). Damian is now Supervisory Special Agent Wayne and is in charge of their unit. Raven has retired from field work and now works at the FBI academy and at Virginia State University. In about 6 months Damian is going to propose and Raven will say yes. Their wedding will be small but happy and full of life.

Once again I would like to thank everyone and all the support the previous post got.

Like last time if anything is disjointed, out of place or seems wrong, please go ahead and tell me. I have been working on this since the last one, but have finally had the time to finish it.

I hope the new year will bring us all some good. Possibly more head canons to come.

#damirae #Damian Wayne #raven #Rachel Roth #damian x raven #Teen Titans #Headcanon #How do tags work #dc #demonbirds

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zhansww · 4 years

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I’ve been wondering how exactly the misunderstanding of my last rambling post came to be and I think it’s cuz of one of two things; cuz I didn’t make it clear what I consider the word “queer” to mean or cuz I didn’t make it clear that the post itself was my own, subjective opinion. I’m not sure how consistent I’ve been with tagging it but I kinda differentiate between (what I think are) rational opinions I have vs emotional ones. The latter ones are obviously subjective and should not be taken as me, lecturing anyone or implying that everyone should feel the same. You either share the same sentiment or you don’t, there’s nothing wrong with it either way. And if my words in those posts seem hostile/condescending, it’s cuz I don’t feel the need to censor any of my subjective views/feelings. What I do think is important and what I try to pay attention to is not to let the negative emotions that certain things evoke in me control my actions. When I see something that I disapprove of in any way, I don’t hijack that post or report it. If my emotional reaction is particular strong, I’ll vent about it in my own post, not theirs. I considered this to be the decent thing to do but I’ve been told by at least one kind, respectful and open-minded person that I am actively making people’s lives worse with those posts, that my words are violent and that my behavior is that of an “unhinged monster” (the irony here is not lost on me). So I’ve been reflecting and I think the next time I feel a particular strong, negative emotion that makes me want to vent, I’ll put a disclaimer beforehand. And now, let me just actually clarify what my point was of that post. I believe that yz is real so I obviously do not assume they are straight. If they are indeed together, then they are queer - i.e. not straight - but that’s literally it. I have no theories or thoughts about what their specific orientation might be and I won’t ever speculate about that either. I wouldn’t mind knowing but unfortunately, they can’t be openly together right now but when they someday are, they’ll hopefully also feel safe and loved enough to share something like that with us. I know for a fact that figuring out your sexuality is a confusing and intimate process which is why I am opposed to speculating about it. I consider it to be too intrusive. But again; that is my subjective opinion based on my own experiences. I do not expect everyone to share this sentiment. One person said that I should expect such speculation and that might be true, maybe I should expect it but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Seeing certain bxg get mad at solos for assuming yz are straight but then turn around and assume they are [insert any specific sexuality except het] is hypocritical and disappointing in my opinion. I think it’s perfectly fine to have such emotional opinions as long as you don’t let those emotions cloud your judgement and lead to you, reacting in a way that is unreasonable and possibly harmful. I also think that everyone should be willing to have their rational opinions questioned but when it comes to an emotional opinion, it doesn’t have to make sense and it’s probably not gonna change either. To give another example; I hk disapprove of yz r/p/f. And that’s not me, saying it is inherently wrong and that no one should do it. In fact, you could try to make a case about how I should like it and approve of it but it wouldn’t make me change my mind precisely because this opinion is not based on logic but just on emotion. And again, as long my emotional reaction to something doesn’t lead to unreasonable actions, then the emotion itself is alright to have. And like I already said, I thought it was okay to vent those emotions in my safe space but apparently, it isn’t. No one should take those posts personally or like I’m talking to them or lecturing them. I thought that this was all obvious but since I got told otherwise, I will be more concise from now on.

You know, when someone starts a “discussion” by insulting you (implicitly or not), that’s usually a clear sign that they’re not even trying to understand you. I’ve seen at least one person reblog the reblogs and seemingly take some kind of vicious pleasure in seeing someone else sh-t on me. Something like that leads me to think that they already had a negative impression of me to begin with which is why their minds gladly misunderstood me and jumped to the worst possible conclusion. They also all seemed to either ignore my explanations or seemed intent on misunderstanding me, no matter what. To be clear, I don’t blame them entirely for it because I could have expressed my point better but for them to immediately think their misunderstanding is the right one - instead of asking me to explain myself perhaps - is also wrong. Mind you, I don’t expect those people to see or care about this post. The main reason I’m trying to clarify myself is for myself. I said I’ll try to be more concise in expressing my views (regardless of whether it’s a subjective one or not) from now on and I thought I should let this be the start of that. There was one reply in particular that ... affected me a lot harder than I thought anything could. I think it’s cuz my depression already makes me feel like I’m a waste of space 24/7. One thing I take comfort in, though, is the fact that, at the very least, the only one who’s hurting because of it is me, no one else. At least I don’t hurt others. But I got told otherwise. I got called an unhinged monster. The unhinged part is true but also being a monster... it made me feel like I’m less than a waste of space. Like, let’s say if normal people always feel like a 1, I always feel like a 0. Getting insulted like that made me feel like a -1. Instead of feeling like a read newspaper, that’s just waiting to get thrown in the trash, that insult made me feel like I’m the asbestos in the house, something that is actively harmful and you need to get rid of. Does that make sense? Anyway... I engaged in “discussions” despite my better judgement and now, I have to pay the price for it so I also decided that I won’t do that again. Hopefully, there won’t even be any more misunderstandings but if there are and someone hijacks my posts and insults and/or willfully misunderstands me, I will just block them. For my own sanity. And for the record, if there’s something in this or any of my subjective/emotional posts that can be misunderstood, that I didn’t make clear enough; please feel free to ask me about it. Please don’t immediately think the worst of me. And when it comes to my more objective/rational opinions, I am always open for discussions as long as we can remain respectful throughout.

I would also like to express my gratitude to anyone who reached out. I’m not sure if the damage can be undone to be honest (it doesn’t feel like it right now) but anyone who offered words of advice, understanding, support or kindness helped soften it. I cannot express how grateful and appreciative I am for it all, any replies or private messages. You helped make me feel less shitty and I thank you so so much. I’m definitely gonna save all the mental health advice cuz I really did not know how to deal with that overwhelming desire to... stop existing in that moment and I want to keep it in mind if (or when) I get affected this badly by something again. I intend to also reply to the messages privately ofc but for now, please accept all of my love and gratitude~

I’m gonna put the rest - which is more personal - under a cut and also tw cuz I’ll elaborate on my mental health/depression. This isn’t exactly something I want to share tbh but I think I shouldn’t shy away from it either. And I feel like I need to explain myself, just for anyone who cares to know.

—

If you compare life to walking on a path, then I at some point - I don’t even remember when - stopped walking and starting digging a hole for myself. It musta been years ago. Right now, that hole is so deep that I have no idea how to get out of it on my own, much less how to move forward. I think I always knew that there must be something wrong with me mentally. This isn’t something that is being talked about in my family, though, so I never extensively thought about it. Not until earlier this year, when my sister told me that she thinks I’m sick and I should see a therapist. My immediate reaction was to reject the idea but I really couldn’t do that for long. As of right now, I have been tentatively diagnosed (not sure if that’s what you call it in English) with depression but I haven’t actually found a permanent therapist and therefore also not started therapy yet. I have no idea what exactly is wrong with me and this not-knowing makes it somehow worse. I haven’t been properly functioning for the past two days - ever since I got called unhinged monster - cuz those words are burned into my brain by now and keep repeating themselves. It feels like my mind was given another weapon to slowly k-ll me with. It keeps reminding me that that’s what I am and then I start trembling and my breathing gets weird and it’s harder than usual for me to distract myself. And this is all so overwhelming for me, I have truly no idea how to deal with any of it. I don’t even know if I named it right, if it really is called a “depressive episode”. I’m hoping I’ll get to find out what exactly is wrong with me and how I can cope with it once I find a therapist. My lack of knowledge regarding what I myself am going through makes it all very confusing and difficult. Another reason why I kind of organized my thoughts and wrote them all down here is cuz I hope it will help me somehow, make my mind stop letting those really bad thoughts in. But in that moment when I felt especially f-cked up, any words of advice or kindness helped. I hope everyone who reached out knows that. Just... thank you. So damn much.

#long post #personal #about me #depression tw #text

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

Text

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.

#it lives #tom sato #tomoichi sato #andy kang #tom x andy #andy x tom #it lives in the woods #ilitw #it lives beneath #ilb #it lives anthology #smut #i am back on my bullshit ig

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i-am-gusu · 2 years

Text

It has been a while. Longer than I expected. I didn't feel the need to share. Not right away, at the very least.

I have told my therapist that I have been savouring the things happening in my life and she agreed that I am allowed to. I’ve been focusing on sharing with friends and family. Focusing on learning that there are so many people caring about me, willing to listen to the thoughts in my head. Even Uncle. Even Uncle...

Many, many things happened.

Wei Ying’s birthday.

New employees.

We got married again.

Another Christmas.

Another New Years.

I don’t know why I’m feeling the need to write about these right now. It felt hard (and unnecessary too) for me to sit down and write before. But I am feeling a little nostalgic about this place today. About sharing the things that are important to me. So I decided to come back.

(I must say. Huaisang had to help me find my password again. I tried so many different variations of what I thought it was that I couldn’t get in anymore. Not my best moment, but not my worst. You’ve all known about my worst. I don’t know if you’re still here, but if you are, thank you for staying.)

Where to start?

I remember I did talk about our newest employees before. They are still adapting well at the café. Strangely enough, Xue Yang is very good at business and not just making baked goods. He and Mianmian have been getting along very well and helped to work out ways to save money without sacrificing quality. Said money has been used to update our kitchens (Yanli-jie have been the one picking the items) and renovate part of the bunnies hutch so it’s bigger and most of it is now encased in the walls. We also upgraded our internet service so we can stream the inside of the bunnies hutch 24/7. We installed a screen in the café so customers can also see what’s happening there when they come in. The views started bringing in income too. Shallow compared to what we’re making with the whole business so far, but we have been donating it all to the local animal shelter. They now have a Honey Buns wing, and we keep the listing for adoptions on our website (we have a website now!) and in the café too. Twice a month, some of the buns to be adopted are brought in the café to be introduced to people and encourage adoptions. One stayed with us, too old and too frightened to be with others. She reminds me a lot of Boogey. She stays upstairs with us, with Bichen and Suibian. She doesn’t mind their company but she’s clearly more comfortable on her own in the big room. We installed cameras there too, to make sure she’s okay when we’re not there. The vet said she probably has just a few years left (“5 at most if she’s lucky”), and I want them to be her best. She’s still not used to us. It’s a little heartbreaking to have a bun run away from me when I come close, but Wei Ying thinks it’s funny “imagine this but with *all* the bunnies Lan Zhan!” I don’t want to imagine it, but it’s okay if she feels safe. She flops on her side when alone and that’s what matters. Her previous owners (despicable people that used her only for breeding, we do not talk about them) called her Norma Jean, and Wei Ying decided to change it to Norma Bean, or Bean for short, “so she can fit in with the rest of them.” I like the name, even though I’m not ready to put it on a rock.

… I am aware that is an awful lot of information for just one bunny… I just can’t help it. I love all of them. I wish you could meet them too, even though you wouldn’t see Bean at all.

Mo Xuanyu has been getting better and better with customers now. He stands taller and laughs freely with the others. He gave it a try in the kitchens and we all realized he was not a good match with cooking, but he is very talented with social media and he’s the one who now promotes most of our work through Tiktok and Instagram mainly. A-Qing just likes to do the silly dances with him, holding the buns up for adoption. Apparently we have a very large following there but I’m not well-versed in social media in general so I leave it to them. They have fun at it, and not just them. They often ask me to join in group dances and I’ve stood my ground so far. Wei Ying and the others have had no qualms about it though. Some of the customers too. I might accept the day my Uncle joins, but that seems very, very far away. I’m counting on it.

I’ve had a long conversation with my Uncle lately. Well… Wei Ying helped with that. It was after we got married again. Wei Ying only told me afterwards, but he went to deliver the invitation to our wedding to Uncle in person, and he talked with him too. Uncle said he reflected a lot on what he told him. We went for a walk one Tuesday after work. Uncle stayed at the café longer than usual, waiting for me. At first, the walk was awkwardly quiet, yet familiar in its silence. And then, Uncle started by telling me that he really enjoyed Wei Ying and I’s wedding. “It was perfectly planned. And beautiful,” he said. I nodded with the memories of it. “I can see that your partner is a good man, and that he makes you happy. I apologize for not having been there to see it earlier.” I nodded again. Uncle was right about Wei Ying, but I didn’t know how to respond to his apology. I had never heard him apologize to me that way before. Not for what had happened in the past. I know Uncle has been more in contact with Auntie Yi since that time Ge and I blew up in his face. Maybe that helped too. We sat on a bench near the park where Wei Ying and I take A-Yuan on our days off, and with great pauses that I believe were hesitations (I have never seen Uncle hesitant before), he started talking about himself. He admitted to what he said himself were his failures towards my brother and I.

(Later, when I spoke with Ge, he told me he and Uncle had had this conversation too, in less words than needed for me. “For all that you’re quiet, didi, you sure require more words in your life than I do. I’m happy you’re living a life where you get to have that,” Xichen said. I know he meant Wei Ying. I consider myself lucky indeed to have him in my life.)

Uncle talked about how young he was when he was given the responsibility of us. “This is not what I had planned for my life, he said. “I was not prepared to take care of children.” There was a pause longer than the previous ones had been, and then “There were many times when I resented my brother for leaving me alone with such burdens. I was wrong. For thinking that way. Neither of you ever were burdens.” I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding at that. I had been ready to leave if he still believed us to be burdens in his life. I did it before and I could do it again. But instead, I sat there with him in companionable silence until he broke it again, turning sideways to look at me. “My lack of knowledge and experience, my feelings, are no excuse for the way I have treated you, for not acknowledging your feelings sooner. For keeping painful truths hidden from you. You and Xichen have both been braver than I ever was. I apologize for not seeing that sooner, for not seeing the grown men you have become.” Then, quietly, almost to himself: “It saddens me that your father was never there to witness it either.” “I wish he had been there too,” I admitted to him at the same time I admitted it to myself. Uncle gently patted my hand and I turned mine upward to hold it. It warmed my heart that he didn’t try to remove it as silence grew once again, this time lighter than it had been before.

When I came home afterwards, Wei Ying welcomed me with a hug and I started sobbing the way I did not allow myself to earlier. He held me tightly and pulled me to the living room for more comfort, and later swaddled me in blankets and put a silly movie on that we both watched already, so I could interrupt whenever and talk if I needed to. My husband is perfect in every single way.

I sit with Uncle now every time he comes to the café, regular like a well-winded clock. I spend my break with him, and we talk, petting bunnies. Sometimes, A-Yuan sits with us. Sometimes, Xichen visits too and we’re together. Sometimes, Wei Ying is there, but he’s more often around, and I can feel his eyes on me all along. He always hugs me afterwards and peppers my face with kisses. That certainly helps as positive reinforcement.

Xichen-ge is doing well. He and Dage are planning to adopt a child soon. He tells me they got the idea from Wei Ying and I. We’re currently in the process of officially adopting A-Yuan. Wen Ning started going to school again to become a pre-school teacher (he is amazing with young children, he seems to thrive in the environment), and A-Yuan’s grandma’s health started deteriorating. She’s still capable of taking care of herself, but taking care of others is out of range for her now. She started living with Wen Ning and Wen Qing’s uncle, and A-Yuan lives with us now. Well, most of the time. He spends a lot of nights at Yanli-jie’s house. And at little Ouyang ZiZhen’s house. And at Wen Qing’s and Wen Ning’s when they’re available. Mianmian and Qin Su also love to steal him from time to time. And now, even Ge started to take him away, “we have to practice taking care of a child!” he says. A-Yuan is spoiled and adored and he deserves all of it. He also made a friend at school, a boy named Jingyi that he keeps bringing up in almost every conversation we have. We have been planning to meet with his parents soon so we can give A-Yuan permission to stay at his place for sleepovers. We don’t have many rules in our house, but for his safety Wei Ying and I decided to only allow him sleepovers at the houses of people we already know. Jingyi’s mother and I have been exchanging emails lately to schedule a meeting with his father as well, but as they are relatively new in town and they are still getting settled, we agreed to wait a month or so for that. A-Yuan is disappointed with the rule but he is being a good boy about it. Being able to see Jingyi on a daily basis at school certainly helps.

Wei Ying and I have taken to fatherhood like a glove. It feels like we were meant to be for this, together. It did change some of Wei Ying and I’s habits, but… We make due with the time we have together when he’s with the rest of the family.

Speaking of A-Yuan, he was our ring bearer during the wedding. I feel it’s time I write about this. It was such a huge event, and I still can’t believe I was successfully kept in the dark by all of those involved for so long. My therapist says that it’s good, that it means I fully trust those I love, so even if suspicion arises, I know they won’t hurt me in any way. Considering the past, she thinks it’s impressive. I think what’s impressive is the amount of love and care Wei Ying and my family put into this. I will start another post with this, I think it will be better.

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