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#anyway channeled every soft bone in my body to write this it's so stupid sweet
youichi-kuramochi · 1 year
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FIC: landscape after cruelty
by viverella / @youichi-kuramochi Fandom: Genshin Impact Relationship: Zhongli/Xiao Rating: Mature Word count: approx. 8.7k Summary: “I’m thinking of constructing a new abode,” Zhongli says after some consideration, careful enunciation around each syllable like something precious. “Away from Liyue Harbor. Somewhere quiet to retreat to.” He leans an elbow against the tabletop, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, and considers Xiao thoughtfully for a long moment. “Tell me, Xiao. What kind of a place would you like to live in?” (What it takes to build a home.)
written for @zhongxiaoexchange for @/chouriner_ (on twt)
[ READ @ AO3 ]
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sarcasmandships · 3 years
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honey and glass ~ spencer reid
i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau
spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)
song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza
word count: 4.8k
disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x
you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash
it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.
the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-
“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”  
“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.
i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.
morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.
i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”  
i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.
“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”
an extra person.
right.
because what else am i but another body to fill the space?
“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”
morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.
and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.
i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.
and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum
we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.
hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.
rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.
derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.
emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.
i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.
more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.
he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.
“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.
he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.
and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party
spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.
neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.
i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.
we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.
and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes
“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.
“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”
the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.
the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.
you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.
you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.
but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.
because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.
i am.
i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.
i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.
and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character
i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.
i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.
“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”
i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.
“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.
“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.
“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”
he shrugs, “i waited for you.”
my heart skips a beat.
“you didn’t have to do that.”
he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”
i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.
best friend.
“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”
he looks at me quizzically.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”
i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”
he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.
he feels like yellow.
and i feel like maybe i am enough.
and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair
i feel like blue.
i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.
“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”
“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”
“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.
something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.
“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”
jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.
i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.
but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad
jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.
i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.
“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.
i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?
how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?
and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.
she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.
but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.
so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun
i hate alaska.
my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.
“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”
“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.
“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.
spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”
“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”
he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”
“we’d get by.”
he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.
a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.
“thanks.”
“anytime.”
morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.
morgan roars with laughter.
“not funny derek!”
he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.
i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.
“guys! come join us!” jj calls.
i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”
she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.
i watch from the side-lines.
spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.
but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.
maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.
and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass
“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”
“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.
“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”
“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.
new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.
but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh
i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.
“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.
“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.
he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.
“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”
his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.
because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.
“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.
it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth
“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.
“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.
we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
“you look tired, are you okay?”
you look tired.
so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.
“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”
“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.
“what?”
oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.
“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.
“oh, i’m sorry….”
i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”
spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”
“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”
spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”
“i don’t have many other options do i?”
he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.
you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.
what if i already have?
you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass
it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.
my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.
i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.
a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.
no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.
it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.
maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.
only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.
i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”
i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”
and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know
it’s roslyn’s birthday.
i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.
when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.
“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”
jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.
i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”
“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”
“like me?” i question.
“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”
i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.
“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”
she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”
in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.
spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.
i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.
i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name
“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.
emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.
“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.
i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.
“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.
i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.
i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.
it’s just a stupid photograph.
“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.
i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.
“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”
“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”
“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”
i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.
“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”
he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”
i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.
he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”
i shrug.
“well, i think you look beautiful.”
so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun
we’re on the plane journey home.
spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.
i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.
i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.
he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.
they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.
a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.
 “where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.
 “bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.
i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.
and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass
“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.
“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”
i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”
i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))
part 2
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