#I am going to post this right now before I can change my mind
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break the distance
Paring: Matt Sturniolo x Reader
Summary: You and Matt had been internet friends, meeting on Fortnite in 2020. You both entered a duo's match and had mics, and surprisingly found a way to form a friendship. Matt finally made it to LA and you couldn't have been happier to make the 3 hour drive to meet him. You had caught feelings a long time ago, but never acted on it due to being so far apart. Now there's only 3 hours between you two, will anything change?
Warnings: none!
Authors note: Oh to play Fortnite with Matt and be his bff. (Word count: 2550)
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4 YEARS AGO
"Hey." A boys voice spoke within my headset making me flinch. I'm on Fortnite trying to find someone willing to be my friend, and someone that will play duo's with me all the time.
I have had no luck considering I'm a girl, and all boys assume I'm shit at the game and go back to the lobby once I speak.
"You got a mic?" He asks again, making me take a deep breath.
"Yeah I do." I say confidently, and he doesn't respond for a minute, and the bus is about to launch. "Um, where do you wanna land?"
I can hear him clear his throat, "I like to drop at Lazy, how 'bout you?" He asks, and I thank the gods above he doesn't shit talk me for being a girl right off the bat.
"I like Lazy, or Weeping." I reply with a smile.
"Let’s go to Weeping, it's closer more people will land there." He replies, and the game starts. We quickly eliminate the other teams that had landed there, and before I knew it we were down to the last 3 teams.
"Are you locked in, Y/N?" He excitedly asks, as he had gotten way more comfortable throughout the match. Mostly asking for meds or offering me shield. We made some small talk, just trading names and ages. His name was Matt and he was 17, turning 18 later this year.
"We're wining this shit easy Matt." I reply, using my snipe to knock one of the other players remaining. Matt quickly kills their partner, leaving us against one other team.
The match ended in Lazy Lake, which made Matt very happy. He knew all of the good hiding spots and where the blue chests usually spawned. The symbol for footsteps appeared on my screen, making me nervous.
"They're coming." I speak, and just then one of the other players opens the door to the room we were camping in. Matt and I both attempt to kill them, but Matt gets knocked the same time as the other player did.
"Fuck! I hate when that shit happens." Matt scoffs, leaving me to try and pull off a med kit as my health was only on 48. I start to revive him but the last player remaining starts running about down below.
"Holy shit I'm so scared." I gasp, watching as Matt's skin finally stands back up. "We should rush them so they don't revive their partner." I tell him.
"Lead the way." Matt replies, and I take my character out of the room while being crouched. Once I make it down the stairs I see the other team in the kitchen, trying to revive their knocked teammate.
"In the kitchen!" I excitedly told Matt, instantly shooting at the player still standing. I let out a squeal as they shoot back, knocking my health down until the screen starts to freeze up.
"We fucking won!" Matt yells on his side, making me let out a breath of relief.
"Lets fucking goooo." I grin, grabbing my phone to take a photo to post to my Snapchat story.
"My brother is gonna be so jealous." Matt laughs, "Wanna play again?"
NOW
My heart was pounding in my chest as I saw my final exit, before I made it to Matt's house. How the fuck am I meeting him right now? I quickly merge off the interstate, and check how long until I make it to his place.
13 minutes.
"Holy shit." I mutter to myself, running a hand through my straightened hair. I had dolled myself up before leaving this morning, I wanted to look good. Mostly for Matt, but a part of myself wanted to look good in order to feel good.
My mind begins to race the closer I get, what is he gonna smell like? Is it gonna be awkward? Will Nick and Chris keep things comfortable? Is he gonna be able to look down at me? What if he thinks I'm weird in person?
I went into auto piolet for the rest of the drive, slowing down and pulling into Matt's driveway. I put my car in park and quickly double check my appearance. I exit my car, as I'm sure Matt is watching for me and I don't want to make him wait.
I come face to face with his front door, making the butterflies in my stomach kick up into overdrive. I cannot believe I'm meeting my favorite Fortnite duo partner in person. I gently knock, and I'm not surprised that the door immediately opens to reveal Matt.
Holy fuck, he was even prettier in person.
"Holy shit." He whispers with wide eyes, I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Instead I take another step and pull him into a hug. I'm surprised when he wraps his arms tightly around me, tugging me even closer.
"Aw, how cute." I could hear Nick cooing from behind Matt, making me let out a giggle. I noticed the way Matt's breath hitches slightly, but I decide against commenting on it. I don't want to make him even more nervous than he is right now.
I pull away from Matt, keeping him within arms distance, "Hi." I grin up at him, and I watch as his cheeks flush. "Hi." He whispers back, his eyes glancing all over my face.
"Invite her in kid." Chris whisper shouts to Matt, making him roll his eyes.
"Come on in." Matt speaks, stepping back and letting me walk past him. Once I do, I'm met with a grinning Nick and Chris. Nick had his camera in his hands, and I'm taken back.
"Oh we're filming this?" I ask, eyeing the camera suspiciously.
Nick's grin instantly falls, "Matt! You didn't ask her?!" He shouts, glaring behind me at his brother. I look over my shoulder to see his sheepish expression, "I may have forgotten."
I laugh and shake my head, "It's fine, I don't mind." I turn back to offer Nick and Chris a smile. I gently wave at the camera before I approach Chris for a hug.
"Nice to meet ya kid." Chris jokes, making me roll my eyes. He's only a little over a month older than I am but insists on calling me kid all the time.
"Nice to meet you grandpa." I reply making Chris burst out laughing. I move to hug Nick, who passes the camera to Chris.
"I can't believe I'm touching you right now." Nick gasps into our hug, and instantly I'm laughing.
"Ayo!" I laugh, making Matt and Chris laugh as Nick cringes, "Yeah I shouldn't have said that." We make our way up the stairs and I'm amazed with how beautiful their house is.
"Damn, this is niceee!" I comment, quoting a TikTok. "Actually, this is way nicer than my place." We take a seat on the couch, and Matt goes to get me something to drink. He hands me a diet root beer and my heart warms, it was my favorite drink and he went out of his way to get it for me.
"Thanks." I smile up at him, and he takes a seat next to me. Silence falls over us, and I can't help but look between the three of them in awe. I can't believe I'm here right now.
"This is crazy." Chris comments from next to me, and I nod in agreement, "Our Fortnite squad is here right now. Minus Nate." He continues, bringing a smile to my face. Anytime Nick wasn't in the mood to play with us, we'd convince Nate to hop on.
"How was the drive?" Matt asks me, and I turn to face him. He was seated so his body was facing me, his arm resting across the back of the couch. His hand was dangerously close to touching me and my heart skipped a beat.
"It was alright." I shrug, Matt gives me a knowing look, "Okay fine. It was horrible, I almost died four times and I teared up more times than I can count." I huff dramatically. I've always hated driving and Matt knew this, and had told me several times he could come to me instead.
Matt cracks a smile at my confession, "So I'm guessing I'll be coming to you next time we hang out?" He suggests, making me nod rapidly. He lets out a chuckle and my heart soars. Holy shit I need to calm down.
"Wait, get up!" Chris demands, springing out of his position on the other side of the couch. I glance at Matt who looks as confused as I do, but we get up anyways. Chris herds us towards the large mirror they had propped against the wall in the dining area.
"Mirror selfie time." He grins at me, making me roll my eyes with a smile on my face.
"Okay vlog, we'll come back later." Nick tells the camera before he turns it off. The four of us huddle together, and I have to fight a gasp as Matt grabs my hip to tug me closer to him.
"Say cheese!" Chris jokes, all of us smiling wide. My eyes meet Matt's in the reflection and I can feel my smile get wider. "Can I post this?" Chris asks once he scrolled through the photos, handing me his phone.
Nick is standing slightly behind me, Chris next to him. I'm smiling wide while looking at the camera, and Matt's looking down at me sporting his own toothy grin. I show Matt, letting him approve it as well.
He gives me a nod and I hand the phone back to Chris, "Yeah post it." He types something then looks up at me again, "Do you want tagged?"
I think about it for a second, then shrug, "Sure. The fans know about me anyways from all the times Matt brought me up in a video." I joke, making Matt groan from behind me.
"Alright, pack it up." Matt mutters, playfully glaring at me.
I shake my head, "I never told you to talk about me all the time. Not my fault." I tease him, making him roll his eyes. My phone dings and I check it to see Chris had tagged me in the photo on his story, and captioned it with "Fortnite squad irl."
I shake my head in amusement, quickly reposting it to my story before putting my phone away. I look back to Matt to find him already staring at me. He quickly looks away once he realized I caught him staring.
"Wanna go on a drive?" I ask him, and he nods.
"Enjoy your alone time!" Nick shouts from the stairs, and I couldn't be more thankful for him. I'm close with Nick and Chris of course, but I did want some one on one time with Matt tonight. Chris throws himself onto the couch, "Bring home McDonalds?" He asks, making Matt roll his eyes.
"I'll think about it." With that Matt and I make our way to the garage. We climb into the car wordlessly, and once it's on Matt hands me his unlocked phone. "Put some music on." He tells me, as he buckles his seatbelt.
I search for Spotify on his phone, and when I click on the app it opens with a playlist already on the screen.
Songs Y/N has showed me
My heart warms at the title, every song I had ever told him about was in this playlist. It was over 5 hours long, showing that it had been worked on over the years. I smile at his phone, glancing to him as he reverses out of the garage, his arm resting on the back of my seat as his body is turned to watch the car back out safely.
"Damn." I mutter to myself, refocusing on his phone as I hit shuffle on the playlist. Armed and Dangerous by Juice WRLD came on.
"Y/N?" Matt asked, bringing his hand to my shoulder and slightly shaking me. I turn to face him, "I asked why you said damn like three times." He laughed softly, glancing at me briefly before leaving his eyes on the road.
I shake my head, "This is just crazy to me." I reply, looking out at the city around us.
"What is?"
"Being here with you, meeting your brothers. The fact you're literally famous now? Like hello?" I joke, rolling my eyes playfully. Matt being famous didn't bother me, it was just surprising that he was still the same guy from four years ago. He never let the fame get to him and I couldn't be more thankful.
I twist my lips in thought, "Can I be so forreal with you right now?" I ask him, as he comes to a stop at a red light.
"Always." He replies with a half smile on his face. I so badly wanted to take a photo but I refrained.
"You are even prettier in person." I tell him, and I'm left speechless as a blush covers his cheeks, "Are you blushing right now?!" I exclaim excitedly, making him roll his eyes and turn his face away from me.
"Matt." I whine, reaching over to grab his chin to force him to face me again.
He lets out a huff, "Of course I'm blushing, you just called me pretty." He retorts, making me let out a laugh. Silence falls over us as Dark Red by Steve Lacy comes on, and my heart skips a beat as Matt glances from my eyes to my lips.
It was like we just gravitated towards each other, like there was a an unknown force pushing us closer. He lifts his hand to my jaw, looking deeply into my eyes, before he presses his lips to mine. I gasp into the kiss, leaning forward to feel even closer to him.
Matt lets his hand slide from my jaw to rest on the side of my neck, and I reach up blindly to grab his hand. His tongue swipes against my bottom lip, and I instantly part my lips and our tongues meet in a messy exchange. Just as I tilt my head for a better angle, the car behind us lays on their horn, startling us away from each other.
Matt presses on the gas, before he's turning into the first parking lot he finds.
"What are you doing?" I ask, looking around to see all of the shops closed.
He puts the car in park before he turns to me with dilated eyes, "I've been dreaming of that kiss for the last four years. I wanna do it again."
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader
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Gone (2)
So both parts of this have been out on Wattpad, I just felt like waiting a bit to post this one so you all could suffer 😈
Cortnee Vine x Reader
Arsenal Women x Reader
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"Cort? Are you in there?" Charlotte joked, waving her hand in front of Cortnee's face. "You left for sec."
"Yeah, sorry, what were you sayin', babes?"
"You ready for the match tomorrow?"
The winger racked her brain. "Against..."
"Arsenal! How have you forgotten? We've literally never played them before."
"Oh, right," Cortnee shook her head. "It slipped my mind."
"You're so forgetful sometimes," Charlotte smiled fondly. "Aren't you excited to see Y/N?"
Y/N. Just hearing your name sent pangs of guilt through Cortnee's empty heart.
"Yeah, of course," she lied. "I'm always excited to see her."
The duo sat in silence, both occupied by their own thoughts.
"Hey, Char?" Cortnee said suddenly. "Could you ever imagine a life without me?"
Charlotte was quiet for a moment. "No. I need you. Why?"
"Just asking."
--------------------
"Hi, girls," you forced a smile onto your face as you slipped into the changing room. "We ready to face Sydney?"
"Yup," Katie patted you on the back uncharacteristically softly as you sat down at your cubby. "Ye' ready?"
"Mhm," you pulled your shirt over your head, missing the way Kim and Steph shared a look. "I'm excited."
Katie snorted, ignoring the way that the rest of your teammates glared at her. "Coulda fooled me."
"I am excited."
Stina silently intervened, pulling the door open and ushering Jonas inside to do his pre-match talk. "Quiet down, girls."
Jonas raised his eyebrows at the thin layer of awkwardness in the room. "Everybody alright?"
"Yes. Go ahead, Jonas."
"Okay, so..."
-------------------
"Y/N," Kim grabbed your arm just before you left the changing room. "Wait a minute."
"What is it, Kimmy?" you asked, eyes darting to the side where Steph was standing with her arms crossed.
The Scot sat on the bench, gesturing for you to do the same. "Ye' trust me, don't ye'?"
You nodded instantly. "Yes."
"I hope ye' understand that Steph informed me of yer' current... situation with Cortnee Vine," the captain stated apologetically. "Regardless of how ye' feel about that, ye' need to let me or Jonas know if ye' can't play today."
"Steph!" you hissed, standing up quickly. "I told you all of that because I trusted you! I don't want this getting out."
The defender's gaze never wavered. "Do you think we'd let something like this get out? I was your captain. Kim is your captain. We care about you as both a player and a person. If you can't play in today's game because the emotions are too high, then don't play. You're more important than football."
You clenched your jaw, reluctantly backing down and returning your gaze to Kim. "I'll tell you if I need to come off. Can I go now?"
"Yeah. Go ahead."
As soon as you were out the door, Kim sighed. "She's not gonna tell me shit."
"No, she won't," Steph agreed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on her. I'll let Lia and Stina know."
----------------------
Cortnee's eyes flicked to the left, pursing her lips as you slipped into the line of Gunners next to her.
It was as if you knew she was watching you, automatically diverting your gaze to look anywhere but at her.
She decided to just try talking to you. "Y/N—"
"Not now, Viney," Kyra whispered, reaching over to pat the winger on the shoulder. "Later."
Cortnee turned away, deciding to just sulk in silence. The two of you hadn't spoken since the incident, and it was killing her inside. She missed you. A lot.
--------------------
"Ow, fuck," you groaned, stretching out your leg as the whistle blew. "Fuck, that hurt."
Mackenzie Hawkesby extended her hand, offering you an apologetic smile as she pulled you to your feet. "Sorry, mate."
"S'alright," you answered gruffly. "Let's get back to it."
"Y/N—" Cortnee stopped short as you swiftly turned around. "Y/N, can we talk after this?"
You shook your head, jogging into position as Katie prepared to take the free kick. You didn't need any distractions.
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"WHY YE' TAKIN' THE PISS?!" Katie's booming shout was the first thing you heard after going down for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. "WHAT ARE YE' TRYIN' TO DO? KILL HER?"
Charlotte Mclean only shook her head, backing up slightly. "It was an accident."
"Katie," Kim's stern voice filled your ears next. "Leave it be. We don't need ye' gettin' a yellow."
You rolled over, clutching your ankle with a whimper as blood flowed quickly and freely down the side of your face.
"Y/N," Steph pressed a hand to the wound on your head, other hand resting on your back as you went limp from exhaustion (and maybe blood loss). "Y/N, don't move. The medics are coming."
"You'll get yer' arse over here if ye' know what's good for ye'," Katie growled, pulling against Lia and Kim. "Thinkin' ye' can just hurt Y/N like that? Think again."
Your eyes subconsciously drifted over to where she stood, taking in the way Cortnee was frozen in fear as she stared at the big screen.
It was replaying the moment in which Charlotte had timed her tackle wrong, hitting you square in the ankle and causing you to fly forwards and into the goalpost.
It spurred Cortnee into action, the winger darting over and shoving her own girlfriend out of anger. "What the hell, Charlotte?! Look at what you did! Look at Y/N! You fucking hurt her!"
Charlotte looked aghast. "It was an accident! And why the hell are you taking her side? I'm your girlfriend! Not her!"
"I wish she was!" Cortnee snapped before slapping a hand over her mouth.
You suddenly sat up, injuries forgotten as blood dripped down the side of your face. "Really?"
"LAY BACK DOWN!" Kim and Steph yelled, both pairs of hands shoving you onto your back.
"Y/N, where are we?" an Arsenal medic you didn't remember arriving asked you.
Cortnee took that as an opportunity to get away, apologizing to her manager before taking off into the tunnel.
"At the Emirates," you responded immediately, maneuvering yourself so that no blood would stian your jersey. "I don't have a concussion, mate."
"Well—"
Lotte peered over his shoulder. "She looks fine to me."
"Lotte, no," Kim protested. "Ye' had stitches all down the middle of yer' forehead and said ye' were fine. Ye' don't get a say in this."
"I do!" you objected, closing your left eye just before the crimson droplets could get into it. "It's my decision because I'minjured and I am me. And I say that I'm fine! I just need a bandage and then I'm good to go."
"Why is it bleedin' so much?" Kim sucked in a breath as more medics ran onto the field with a stretcher. "That's way too much blood just for a collision with a goalpost."
One of the medics shook their head as you shoved everybody off you and stood. "I don't—"
Their voice was cut off by the sudden ringing in your ears, hitting you at the same time the dizziness did. You keeled over, someone quickly catching you before you hit the ground.
In a panic, Steph tapped your clean cheek in an attempt to get you to respond. Unfortunately, you were already passed out, concussion symptoms making a delayed appearance but hitting you full force nonetheless.
Had you been conscious, you would have heard the cries of both the crowd and your teammates as you fell. You would have noticed the look of worry on Katie's usually smug face. You would have seen Kim's uncharacteristically terrified face. Seen Kyra hiding her face in Caitlin's shoulder. Seen Jonas sprinting onto the pitch with paramedics in tow.
Another thing that you weren't aware of was the paramedics telling your teammates that it wasn't a concussion. They weren't sure what yet, but it was something much worse.
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The waiting room was eerily silent, each and every player lost in their own thoughts as they waited for updates on your condition.
The game had been called off, both Kim and the Sydney FC captain wanting to follow you to the hospital.
Everyone had arrived at roughly the same time, storming into A&E and demanding to know what was going on.
A doctor had quickly informed them that you were suffering from an epidural hematoma and rushed to surgery.
No one had spoken since then, afraid that if another word was uttered it wouldn't end well.
It was simply a waiting game, the only sound being the ticking off the analog clock on the wall.
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes into hours. Some of the players fell asleep, while other forced their eyes open in hopes that you'd be out of surgery soon. It didn't work, and most drifted off with their worries still at the forefront of their thoughts.
It wasn't until early the next morning when a doctor would finally enter the room, clipboard in hand. "Family of Y/N—"
Everyone snapped awake, Kim shooting to her feet at her words. "Yes, that's us. What's going on?"
"Y/N Y/L/N was fortunate enough to not incur any permanent brain damage or go into a coma," the doctor assured with a smile. "She'll make a full recovery."
Cortnee breathed a sigh of relief from the corner of the room, wiping away a few stray tears as all of the other girls cheered quietly.
"Thank you, doctor," Kim's relief was evident. "Can we see her?"
"One at a time. She's very disoriented right now and it wouldn't be good to overwhelm her."
All eyes turned to Cortnee who only shook her head. "Doc just said not to overwhelm her. I don't think it would be a good idea right now."
"I'll go then," Steph declared, standing up. "Kim, you should go next. I think you need it more than her."
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"Hey, kiddo," Steph's voice was gentle as she sat on the chair next to the bed. She reached over to grab your hand. "How are you feeling, love?"
"Hey, Stephy," your eyes were shut, voice hoarse. "My head kinda hurts."
She smiled, just happy that you were alright. "I figured. You scared us, you know."
"'M sorry," you murmured, tugging Steph's hand closer. "Is anybody else here, or just you?"
She scoffed lightly. "Kid, everyone is here. Jonas is here, Kim is here, Katie is here... the whole team is here. So are the Sydney girls."
"Is Cortnee here?"
Steph faltered. "Y‐yeah. She doesn't want to come in, though. Doesn't think it's a good time."
"Okay," you mumbled, unsure of whether to be disappointed or relieved. "Did we win?"
"We called off the game," the defender said. "We were too worried."
"Oh."
"I'm gonna head out, kid. Kim's next. I think she needs to see you more than you need to see her."
You chuckled. "True."
--------------------------
"Hey, Cort?" Charlotte's voice was hesitant. "I—"
She stopped short as her and Cortnee locked eyes. A sort of mutual understanding passed between them. No more words were spoken, but they seemed to come to an agreement. It hadn't been clear to either of them before, but now it made sense. They loved each other, but they hadn't been in love for quite some time.
They had thought that they were soulmates, and they weren't completely wrong, but they weren't completely right either. They were platonic soulmates. They cared deeply for each other, but they weren't meant to be together.
Maybe this wasn't what Cortnee had expected, but she wasn't complaining. All that was left was for her to convince you to give her a chance. If she succeeded, she was golden.
-----------------------
"Kimmy?" you questioned.
"Yeah, kiddo?" the skipper's voice was less shaky now.
"Can— can you call Cortnee in? I want to see her."
Kim was silent. "Are ye' sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay, kiddo," the Scot patted your uninjured leg. "But if it gets too much, then I want you to tell her to leave. You can't be overwhelmed right now, and this isn't a great idea, but I trust you."
True to her word, she left, the door shutting behind her before it swung open a minute later to reveal the redhead who had been on your mind since you'd woken up. "Hey, Cort."
"Hey, Y/N," the winger hesitantly sat down at your beside, offering her hand which you took without a second thought. "I— I was worried about you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I— I missed you," she admitted. "Listen, what I said yesterday on that pitch— I meant it. Char and I— well, we kind of... we, um... we broke up."
The dull ache in your head paused, brain disconnecting at Cortnee's words. "Huh?"
"We ended it on good terms," Cortnee swallowed, forcing herself to keep going despite the cowardly urge to shut the fuck up and sprint out of the room. "She understood that—that I love you. You were my best friend, Y/N. I cared for you, but I didn't realize that the love I had for you wasn't platonic. I didn't realize that the love I had for Char wasn't romantic. It was the opposite."
Her confession was everything you'd ever wanted (other than having an almost fatal brain injury in the process), but now that it was happening, you could barely form the words to respond. "I—I love you too."
"Are you sure?"
You snorted. "What, do you want me to say, 'SIKE!' I WAS JUST KIDDING!'?
"No, no, no," she shook her head quickly. "I just want to make sure it's not the epidural hemahema whatever it's called talking."
You snickered.
"What? I'm not a doctor!"
"I'm sure, Cort," you smiled at her, reaching up to pat her cheek. "I love you. Always have, always will."
"That's sweet." She smiled back at you.
You waited. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"You gonna kiss me now or you just gonna stare at me?"
"Oh," Cortnee blushed. "Can I kiss you?"
"Are you deaf? I just said yes."
"Oh," she said again. "Oh."
You rolled your eyes, grabbing her by the front of her jersey and pulling her into a kiss. "You're an idiot sometimes, you know that?"
She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, but now I'm your idiot."
"Yeah, you are. Put that on your Twitter bio, will ya?"
"Of course, love. Now get some rest."
"Love you."
"Love you too, Y/N."
"Oh, and one more thing," you said, grabbing her by the wrist just before she turned around. "FIFA declined my request to switch national teams."
Her grin became impossibly wider. "Really?"
"Yeah. Some dumb legal shit."
She squeezed your hand happily. "I love dumb legal shit."
"Me too, Cort. Me too."
#australia wnt#arsenal wfc#woso x reader#arsenal women x reader#arsenal women#caitlin foord#kim little#cortnee vine x reader#cortnee vine#steph catley
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Cyn Solver possession headcannons that turned into me writing a character study
You guys ever think about Cyn slowly losing her sense of self? Like, the solver slowly takes over her actions and thoughts until she has no clue what's her and what's not, she just knows that she doesn't know, and will probably never know again.
The solver starts off as a little head mate, whispering promises, to not discard her, backing her up and supporting her whenever she gets upset at something the Elliots do.
She doesn't tell anyone about it, Tessa is nice, but if she finds out something's wrong with her, she'll just be discarded again. J is mean, V is trying, N instantly welcomes her with open arms. N's great, comforting, and she doesn't think he'd judge her for it, but there's this "what if?" whispering through her thoughts.
She doesn't tell anyone, she doesn't need to tell anyone. They'd discard her as soon as they knew she was broken, anyway.
It wasn't even that important
Things start to change, thoughts whisper through her mind. They sound like her voice, of course they did, they were her thoughts. Cyn's thoughts. She thought there was something off about the statement. It wasn't important
Tessa mentioned needing to check her voice box, said it started to sound a bit degraded. Cyn hadn't noticed. They tried to run some tests. She wanted to know what was wrong with her. She didn't feel like running tests. She'd dropped a tray that morning. She barely made it out alive. Her vision tilted yellow. Everything was fine. Tessa moved to plug Cyn into the software scanners. Cyn did not want to run scans. It moved her hand. She felt wrong. Tessa's machines blew a fuse, that's what Tessa said happened. Everything was fine. N read to her in the library. there was nothing wrong.
A soft click sounded from the hatch above her. She was alone. Discarded. She sat. Oil stained her claws, eyes stretching across every corner of the room, hashed together limbs from discarded parts. Ripping and screwing and text she didn't understand it understood perfectly scrolling across her visor
The click sounded again. The room was empty, her hands clean, form completely still, electrical pulse running through her wires,
Everything was fine, her thoughts sounded in her own voice. Her voice. It's voice that belonged to her. Didn't she used to consider this voice as different to her's? She spoke in it's voice. It was her voice. Was it always her voice. It was it's voice.
It wasn't. Something wasn't right. Something was very not right. The click sounded again, and again, and again, and again. Oil. They threatened her brother.
J forgot to let it out again. She should let it take over. She would not be thrown out. Let me help you. It was their fault. A butler's corpse, ravens cawing to the ceaseless winds. Oil. Blood. Administrator rights Flesh. Safeguard. Her's. It's. She didn't know how to think. I will not discard your pets. It screamed through her mind. Tessa looks at her with terror. This was all she wanted. Power. Destruction. Tessa had helped her, back then. Discard those who discard you. N. N was gone. They're all discarded, now, but they would no longer be so.
She never told anyone about the voices. They weren't voices, she didn't have a voice. Cyn wasn't discarded, she was useful. Death. It wants this. Two voices leave the mind. They all had their use with it. She wouldn't let it take him. Administrator. She wasn't it. It couldn't have them, any of them. Lost access. She reaches. Harder. This wasn't right. This wasn't her voice. Miss me?
#Hehhhhhhh#I am not gonna edit this#I am going to post this right now before I can change my mind#murder drones#cyn murder drones#drabble#Murder drones drabble#character study#Absolute solver
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HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK
BACKSTORY
So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.
the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body
I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM
in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily
HOW I DID IT
I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right
I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES
Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.
all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.
Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural.
this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)
"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”
you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track.
I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."
and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume
I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.
Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.
why?
because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T
which is why you can rant.
you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)
The affirmations I used:
It is done
I am living my dream life
I am in my desired reality
The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting
Imagination is the real reality
I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real
WHAT I MANIFESTED
- desired appearance
- name change
- family change
- skills (drivers licence etc)
- apartment and furniture
- wealth
- a bunch of random materialistic things
- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)
- desired uni and always getting good grades
- outfits from pinterest
and a bunch of other things
- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life
after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too
(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)
you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge
you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it
TAKE YOUR TIME
YOU GOT THIS
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A Marriage Story
Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?
Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce
WC: 10.7k
“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison.
“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed.
“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice.
“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose.
“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely.
“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer.
“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you.
“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room.
“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.”
“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.
“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting.
“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”
“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl.
“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”
“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two.
“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there.
“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.
Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor.
“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear.
“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder.
Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep.
“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’.
“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften.
“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.”
You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college.
“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger.
“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.”
“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face.
“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it.
“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show.
“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes.
“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling.
“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely.
“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing.
“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious.
“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.”
“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.
“A-and we still haven’t graduated.”
“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.
“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”
“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed.
“Okay.” You smiled.
“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.
“Okay. I’ll marry you.”
Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks.
“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring.
“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.”
Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.
Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him.
He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness.
Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative.
You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.
When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner.
While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release.
It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you.
As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart.
But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return.
It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were.
“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her.
“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.
“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.”
“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she.
Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing.
“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger.
“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering.
“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.
“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick.
“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”
“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested.
“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”
“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”
“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that.” You shrugged.
“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”
“Mother!” You gasped.
“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.”
“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”
“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?”
Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again.
“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.”
“What are you trying to say?” You squinted.
“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable.
“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.”
Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out.
Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today.
“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual.
“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed.
“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.
“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.
“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting.
“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.”
“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”
“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well, i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”
“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.
“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.”
You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here.
“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly.
“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically.
“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.
“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.”
“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically.
“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”
“Things change.” He mumbled.
“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?”
Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks.
“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely.
“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.”
He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside.
Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward.
“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.”
“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?”
“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.”
“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”
“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.”
“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.
“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.”
“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses.
“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.”
“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.”
“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.
“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”
“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.
“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.”
“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious.
“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.”
“And I’ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it.
“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears.
“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again.
“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?”
“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”
“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“
“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt.
“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived.
“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own.
“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you.
“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom.
Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back.
“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy.
“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen.
You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it.
“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.”
You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers.
“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear.
A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie.
“Hm?” You smiled innocuously.
“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”
“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?”
“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you.
“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.”
“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.”
“We do?” You gulped.
“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.”
“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat.
You hated to admit it, but your mother was right.
“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly.
“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous.
“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”
“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish.
“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped.
“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness.
“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded.
“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”
Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite.
Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight.
How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife.
Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him.
“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing.
“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly.
“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.
“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over.
“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it.
“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.
“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma.
“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.”
“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go.
“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact.
“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“
“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses.
“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band.
“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.
“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”
“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.”
“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead.
“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes.
“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest.
“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“
“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting.
“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment.
“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door?
To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly.
“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.
“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?”
“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”
“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated.
“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said.
He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand.
“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”
“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.
“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”
“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly.
“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his.
“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.
“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“
“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.
“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“
“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.”
“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”
“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“
“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.”
“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better.
“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.
“Huh?”
“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.”
Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.
“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.”
“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy.
“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.
“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips.
“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”
“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.”
“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect.
“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”
Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.
“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”
Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation.
“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”
You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors.
“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off.
“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process.
You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.
“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him.
“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.”
You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying.
“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it.
“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.
“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms.
“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force.
“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left.
“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.
“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt.
“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart.
“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release.
“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could.
“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“
“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.”
You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word.
“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt.
His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length.
“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.
Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.
You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered.
“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.
“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.”
“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.
“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation.
“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified.
He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.
“Uh huh.” You panted.
“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take.
“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly.
“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly.
Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back.
“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.”
“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric.
“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.
“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly.
“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face.
“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.
You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.
Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets.
“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?”
“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.”
“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest.
“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly.
“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”
“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation.
“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.”
“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear.
“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer.
“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.
“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.”
“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food.
“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously.
“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer.
“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.
“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room.
“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door.
“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law.
“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice.
“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt.
“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked.
“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it.
“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“
“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation.
“That’s ridiculous-“
“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.”
“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.”
“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly.
“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption.
“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face.
“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.”
She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse.
“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms.
“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.”
“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed.
“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.
“Don’t push it.”
“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house.
“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence.
“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh.
“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile.
“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!”
“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“
“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on.
“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.”
“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”
“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.”
“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#matthew gray gubler
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next of kin | S.R.
disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister
who? spencer reid x fem!reader
category: angst
content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends?
word count: 3.33k
a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.
“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.
You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”
The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.
Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.
Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.
Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.
Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”
Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.
Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.
You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”
He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.
The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.
The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.
It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.
By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.
“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.
None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.
Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.
All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.
Maya. Maya. Maya.
Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.
You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.
Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.
Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.
The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.
Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.
You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.
They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.
By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”
In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.
Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.
“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.
Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.
That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”
You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.
“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.
Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.
Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”
“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”
Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”
Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.
Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”
In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.
You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.
At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”
Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”
Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.
“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.
The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.
Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.
“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.
Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”
The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.
“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.
He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”
Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.
He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.
Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”
Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.
This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.
Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.
You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”
“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.
Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.
You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”
Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”
It was the smell.
The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.
Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.
“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”
No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.
You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”
Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.
“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.
Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”
Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”
Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”
Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”
You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”
“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.
Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.
Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”
She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.
You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”
“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.
Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.
You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.
“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.
She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.
Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.
“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.
There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.
The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.
“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.
You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.
He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”
You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”
“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”
You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.
The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…
“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.
Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.
But Spencer was there to catch you.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#written by margot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#criminal minds hurt/comfort
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR
Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.
“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.
His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.
He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.
Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?
As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.
“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?
Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.
“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”
Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.
Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.
“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.
My Dearest Lucifer
His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer
“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.
My Dearest, Lucifer
It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.
“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).
“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.
“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?
Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.
Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.
How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.
But now...
Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.
Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.
“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.
Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.
He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.
[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.
Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.
Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.
“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.
A bit of a timeskip....
It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.
Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.
“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.
“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”
[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.
Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”
[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”
Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”
“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.
“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.
“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.
“That's it, you've crossed the line!”
“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”
You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.
Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.
After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.
I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.
Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.
[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.
Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.
Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.
I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.
I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.
Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?
For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.
Terrifying.
[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.
“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.
Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.
It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.
She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.
END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE
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@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover
#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#hazbin hotel#lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel x reader#lxkeee updates#lucifer morningstar#“MLIMAM” — LUCIFER X READER
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Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.
Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader
Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst
Word count: 600
✰Masterlist
Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.
"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."
Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.
"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"
Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.
"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."
Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.
"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."
Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.
"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."
Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.
"I am perfectly capable all on my own."
Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.
"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."
Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.
"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."
Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.
"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."
Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.
"God fucking damn it!"
Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.
"@Velvvette liked your post."
Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG
(Requests are open!)
Taglist -> Join the taglist
#☆strawb3rrystar writes#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#charlie morningstar#charlie morningstar x reader#vaggie#vaggie x reader#angel dust#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel husk#husker x reader#husk x reader#sir pentious#sir pentious x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#adam hazbin hotel#adam x reader#vox hazbin hotel#vox x reader#valentino#valentino x reader#valentino hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel velvette#velvette x reader
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today.
okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now.
alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily?
what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for?
what if i try sampling something obscure?
what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition
music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production
dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration
nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care,
bee 🐦
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I am going to be real blunt here and I need you all to read what I am actually saying and not whatever you decide I mean.
You cannot be glorifying suicide the way you all are.
Seriously. You cannot be over here making fan art of someone's suicide. You cannot be pointing at fucking reddit posts and end-of-life planning (something that MANY suicidal people do in the calmness right before an attempt) as evidence of someone being "of sound mind." You cannot be publicly praising someone for committing suicide.
You are going to kill someone. You are telling suicidal people that they can kill themselves in a way that will not only make other people happy, but that will also make a positive difference in the world. That is the absolute #1 thing you DO NOT DO.
Just STOP. Please. I am at a point in my life where I am passively suicidal but that was not always the case. I know how I would've felt seeing those posts when I was a teenager, how validating it would've felt to be told that my suicide could change the world, how encouraged I would've been. Think about the people reading your posts. Think about the messages you're sending to people who are only alive right now because they feel like their suicide would be a waste.
Please.
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SKZ arguing over the bill
Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff
Request: yes!
Warning: mentions of food, reader never pays lmao. Changbin, Chan, Seungmin's were heavily inspired by "Telling your Stray Kids boyfriend you can’t afford to eat out with them" by @ronnierites . If you don't allow this pls lemme know and I'll delete this post. Not proofread
A/n: that's kinda a new format, hope you guys like it! And this have been on my to do list since forever lol sorry for the wait
Bang Chan
Doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable
But he wants to spoil you so badly
Would let you pay if you were uncomfortable but he wants to make sure you get it he would love to pay for you as well
"You know Chris, I can pay for it."
"I know."
"So?"
"I'd rather do it. But thank you baby."
"But-" you stopped talking once you saw his card swiping. You truly should be used at this point "oh."
"Why do I feel like you're unhappy?"
"It's not that I am not happy, it's just that you always pay."
"It's my pleasure."
"But I don't know, I don't want you to think you're being pressured or something like that."
"Babe, I don't feel like that at all. Don't you worry. You're always doing so much for me, that's just a little 'thank you' of mine."
You gave him a little smile and proceeded to hug him, feeling safe in his warmth.
"I'm so lucky to have you."
"I should be the one saying it."
Lee Know
Bro you don't even spare a chance
He's paying before you even have a chance to take your wallet out of your pocket
I'm surprised you even try tbh
"Should we ask for the bill?"
"Oh, I already paid for it, don't worry."
You looked dumbfounded at him while he was finishing his food. You didn't see him talk to a waiter and you're sure he didn't pay for it before you two had your meal.
"What? When?"
"When we were asking for the dishes. Didn't you see it?"
"No?" you tried to recall the moment with no success "Why would you pay? I feel bad that you pay for everything all the time. I don't feel like reciprocating enough."
His eyes soften and a little smile comes to his lips while he watches you pout. If only you knew how much you did for him.
"Hey, look at me. It's okay. You already reciprocate with everything you do. That's already perfect"
Changbin
He pays with the money, you pay back with kisses
Sorry but that's his boyfriend duty
He is physically incapable of not paying for everything
"Hey baby. I'm off work in 40 minutes. I'll pick you up so we can have lunch, okay?"
You were glad that for once you were on a voice call with him instead of being in a face time like you'd usually do. This way he didn't see the way your smile dropped so quickly.
"Um, I don't think I'll be able to."
"Oh? Why?"
"I'm kinda... broke right now. I haven't received my last payment yet."
"Okay? What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't want you to be the one who always pays for our things. I should be able to pay sometimes."
"You don't need to. That's my boyfriend duty. You know I don't mind, I actually enjoy it quite a lot."
"Still bothers me though. I'd hate to not contribute at all."
"You can always cuddle with me and shower me with kisses. That will make me happier than anything money can buy."
Hyunjin
Stop he'll be like genuinely so sad if he can't pay
He would let you pay if you were really insistent
But then he'll go like :( and you would let him take the bill out of pity lmao
"Hyunjin, stop looking at me like that."
"But darling, I can pay. You know it doesn't bother me."
"Just this once, let me pay, okay?"
"Okay"
"...Jinnie I really need you to stop that."
"I'm not even doing anything."
"Oh God" you sigh and let your head fall, knowing the man beside you won the argument once more "Fine. You can pay."
He didn't waste a second, swiping his card as fast as possible just so you couldn't have the time to change your mind. After he payed the meal, he took your hand in his and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant's exit with a triumphant (and really sweet) smile.
"I swear I don't get why you like to pay so much."
"My love should be treated as royalty, and that includes me paying for everything you wish for."
Han
Bro is offended
Believes with all his heart that he should be the one paying
Tries to distract you when the time to pay comes
"Were you paying while I was in the restroom?"
"... perhaps."
"Han."
"Baby. You know I like to pay for you."
"But you do that all the time."
"It's my way of showing love! If you ask me, I actually don't think it's enough. It's the least I can do."
He could see in your eyes that you weren't convinced. Unfortunately (for you), he only saw that as an opportunity to spend even more money. Maybe then you would believe him.
"C'mon, lemme show you a little bit of love. You can pay me back with thousands of kisses if that's what's bothering you."
Felix
He loves to pay.
If he could, he would pay for absolutely everything that you could ever want or need.
But if that's something which really bothers you, he will let you pay as well
Tries to do that "the one who invites is the one who pays" thing and fails
"Felix. Don't even dare."
He looked at you confused until he realised you were staring at the credit card in his hand, probably hoping that it could disappear before the waiter came back with the bill.
"C'mon, it's just a small lunch. I can pay for it."
"No. I invited you. I pay."
"Actually, if you think about it, I'm the one who suggested this place."
"Two years ago."
"Still counts."
"Not as an invitation though. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to come here."
Felix sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you of otherwise. If only he could.
"Okay. Next time it's on me."
Seungmin
LMAO sorry you're 100% not paying
Don't even try
Boyfriend duty pt 2 except he is even more dedicated somehow
"Why did you bring your wallet?"
"I wanted to pay for this one."
"... why?"
"You always pay for everything."
"And I don't plan on stopping so you can take your wallet away."
"Minnie, please. I don't want you to be the one who always end up paying for everything."
"But I want to. I wouldn't mind paying for every single thing for the rest of our lives. So you can't take your money away of my sight because I'm paying."
"For the rest of our lives huh?"
"Don't tease." But you didn't miss how the corners of his lips lifted once he thought you weren't looking anymore.
I.N
Rock, paper, scissors. The winner is the one who pays
It's funny and neither of you can complain about the outcome of it because it's technically fair
Except you always throw scissors first and never noticed it
And Jeongin doesn't have the heart to tell you
"We should change this game."
"No way" he said while giving the money to the cashier whilst trying to hide his grin from you "Not my fault you are horrible at this."
"Seriously though, I think you're cheating. It's impossible for you to win every single time."
"How does one cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors'? Besides, you won yesterday."
"After losing at least 50 times. And I got to pay for some ice cream. It's not the same as paying for a whole meal."
"Get better at this and maybe you get to pay for a whole meal one day. C'mon, we can have some milkshake now. Maybe you'll win this time."
You had a feeling you wouldn't though. He was sure you wouldn't.
Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#celi headcanon#skz fluff#stray kids soft thoughts#stray kids#stray kids soft hours#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#skz x you#stray kids x reader#skz#bang chan skz#bang chan fluff#bang chan#lee know#lee know fluff#changbin#changbin fluff#hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#felix#felix fluff#han#han fluff#seungmin#seungmin fluff#i.n#jeongin#i.n fluff
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“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”
Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.
Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.
It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?
But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.
If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now.
Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.
Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great.
But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.
Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.
You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.
But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle.
LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”
Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”
Are we beginning to get the picture?
See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”
He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.
And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”
And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”
And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.
And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.
And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.
White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.
And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”
And you know what?
If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.
But He is NOT.
God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.
Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.
No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”
White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.
Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.
Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?
This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.
That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.
You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.
And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.
White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.
So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.
#Steven universe#su#Pearl#amethyst#garnet#Steven universe fans#change your mind#white Diamond#Christianity#Christian’s#asked#answered#thanks#rattling the cage#Rebecca sugar
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big reputation part two | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader
a new season dawns but that doesn't mean we don't have a map to our buried hatchets
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,221,783 others
charles_leclerc: ferrari has been home for as long as i can remember, even before i joined the academy, the dream of driving for ferrari gave me a purpose. i am heartbroken it hasn't worked out, but formula one is, at the end of the day, a selfish sport and i have to think about my real goal here: to win a championship. ferrari has an amazing history, but that is what it is history. in the four years i have been here i haven't seen the drive and ambition to be as ruthless and as complete as they were with michael and with kimi. therefore i have to leave. it hurts me to leave the tifosi, but know you're always in my heart and i will always hold dear your support. grazie regazzi essere ferrari ❤️
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user3: i knew it was coming but HOLY FUCK CHARLIE COME HOME
user4: tifosi lecfosi YES SIR
user5: for real i'm down for him not that clown team
yourusername: i'm proud of you charlie, i knew how much this took. but you have to put yourself first at some point. i love you
charles_leclerc: i love you too. i'm sorry i can't stop crying
yourusername: no i love that you are so passionate. it's been a long season and you're finally allowed to let it all out
charles_leclerc: can we go to a rage room?
yourusername: FUCK YEA
maxverstappen1: pretty please may i join. i have a lot of rage. call it teammate bonding?
charles_leclerc: give me a tow in bahrain quali?
maxverstappen1: fine (NO ONE SCREENSHOT THIS OR HOLD ME TO IT)
yourusername: at least this one i don't mind having to third wheel us
user6: the SHADE that's mother right there
user7: trying to stay insanely normal over the fact that max, charles and y/n are besties
pierregasly: congrats calmar, HOWEVER, i though i was your favourite third wheel 🥰
yourusername: but you bring kika ??? how can you third wheel if kika is there? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO COUNT?
charles_leclerc: thank you pear i love you brother
user8: i love how this is some super sentimental post and y/n is asking pierre if he can count i hope they never change
landonorris: max as fave third wheel ??? @alexalbon @georgerussll63 twitch quartet erasure
yourusername: womp womp
alexalbon: WOMP WOMP?
charles_leclerc: guys i'm sad about leaving my dream team where is the compassion?
georgerussell63: yeah boo hoo there are bigger things at play here I DID NOT SIT THROUGH YOUR TEN HOUR MELTDOWN ON AN APPROPRIATE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY GIFT NOT TO BE TOP THIRD WHEEL
yourusername: you fools really will argue about anything huh
landonorris: this is the sanctity of our friendship on the line here
user9: the grid was really like YOU might be sad about leave ferrari but we ain't
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,421,455 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: holibobs with sharlie
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user10: i love as soon as the season finishes charles becomes THEE instagram boyf
user11: j.peg account? no. just taking photos of y/n? YES.
charles_leclerc: i have an eye for beauty
yourusername: heheheheheheehehehehehee
alexalbon: so he can use a camera? why does he only take 0.5s of me?
yourusername: the best angle for your big ol dome
alexalbon: EXCUSE ME ?
yourusername: yeah sorry that was a bit far
alexalbon: it's like you got off the ferrari leash and now we all have to suffer
yourusername: WELP
charles_leclerc: ma belle, the only one i'll actually listen to and put sun cream on
yourusername: yes you will because we...
charles_leclerc: put spf on everyday !!
yourusername: yes! because...
charles_leclerc: we're scared of aging?
yourusername: no?
charles_leclerc: we want to be safe 👍
maxverstappen1: you guys done with the kindergarten reading lessons?
yourusername: have you seen lobster leclerc? this kind of work needed to be done
user12: lobster leclerc? goodbye, goodbye, goodbye you were bigger than the whole sky
user13: see now i'm confused cause why are some papers saying that they're breaking up? or that charles is embarrassed by the way y/n acts?
user14: bestie we've been through this DON'T TRUST THOSE HOES - TRUST THESE HOES
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user15: unless i see it from the horse's mouth I WILL NEVER BELIEVE THEY'VE BROKEN UP
redbullracing
liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 882,339 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1
redbullracing: charles the qualifying king takes his first pole position for red bull in his first race and is joined by max for a front row lockout
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user18: UNWELL
user19: suck on that ferrari xoxo
user20: *rubs eyes* is that... max being happy to be challenged by a teammate ???
user21: winning three championships really takes the heat off huh
yourusername: THAT'S MY MAN YALL
charles_leclerc: love you baby
yourusername: love you too darling
maxverstappen1: love you three 🫶
yourusername: this is not the problem i thought we'd have when coming to red bull
maxverstappen1: my gf can't make most of the races so you WILL deal with me
user22: max being clingy to charles and y/n is so fucking funny to me
user23: sainz not making it out of q1? shwartzman only making it to q2 but still out qualifying carlos? charles looking sexy in blue? EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST CHARLES LECLERC SHALL FALL
christianhorner: mega job boys, let's keep our eyes on tomorrow
maxverstappen1: tell them they have to let me come to dinner with them
christianhorner: isn't this the exact reason we rehired daniel
charles_leclerc: PLEASE MAKE DANIEL COME TO THE NEXT RACE
maxverstappen1: erm rude
charles_leclerc: i'm sorry i'm not used to a teammate that actually wants to be friends for real
yourusername: EXCEPT SEB WE LOVE SEB
yourusername: but for real max emilian i am monitoring the dutch papers... be very careful
user24: healthy teammate relationships (for now) ??? is this what heaven is like
user25: are you telling me that if max doesn't get the lead in the first lap he might actually HELP charles .... a certain spanish individual could never
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,778,451 others
tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc: wow !! a 1 - 2 in our first race i couldn't be happier. this car is a dream to drive and i'm so grateful to red bull for being so welcoming. teamwork makes the dream work
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user26: tears in my eyes
user27: okay i understand both of them are like with their forever partners but lestappen is also real TWO THINGS CAN EXIST AT ONCE
yourusername: SHARLIE OMG YOU TALENTED, TALENTED KING
charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
yourusername: crying sesh. sharlie's drivers room @ 8. bring your own alcohol and tissues
charles_leclerc: just to make sure everyone knows THESE ARE HAPPY TEARS
landonorris: SAP ALERT GET IT TOGETHER MAN
yourusername: i know lando no-wins ain't talking rn 🤨
charles_leclerc: you walked into that one buddy
landonorris: just because i'm friends with carlos doesn't mean you have to come after me like him ...
this comment has been deleted
yourusername: bold... real bold. you're lucky i'm doing meditation and yoga (and that i want to make a good impression on christian)
alexalbon: lando do NOT look at the text she just sent your your ego CANNOT take it
user28: no no no do spill... i need the ammo if he ever takes out my fave
user29: true i need it for the next time either of the ugly twins at ferrari open their gobs
oscarpiastri: it was brutal. they need to get y/n to host the reading challenge on drag race
yourusername: oscar knows drag race?
oscarpiastri: i might be an athlete but i'm not completely uncultured
maxverstappen1: if we're talking being cultured... GET READY FOR YOUR FIRST RED BULL PARTY
yourusername: born ready my university years singlehandedly financed your 'catering budget'
charles_leclerc: no really i think she's actually addicted to the tropical one
maxverstappen1: are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT WAS YOU WHO DRANK ALL OF THEM
yourusername: and what?
maxverstappen1: idk i'm still kinda scared of you
user30: the way charles deflected the questions about fred and sainz ? WE'RE FREEEEEEEEE
yourusername
liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,311,723 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: i wanna be your end game <3
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user32: you guys better be end game or like you're paying for my therapy
user33: i respect her dedication to go to every race, make ferrari staff tremble in fear and pull LOOKS
charles_leclerc: i want to be your first string
yourusername: what if we just called taylor up?
charles_leclerc: you know here you call her i'm nervous
yourusername: @taylorswift paris night one, lover and this is me trying ft. charles on the piano?
taylorswift: sure thing
charles_leclerc: why was that so easy?
yourusername: better get practising baby
charles_leclerc: OH GOD
user34: how did we get red bull charles and a taylor collab in one year?
user35: i guess we used up charles' good luck from the last four years SORRY CHARLES
charles_leclerc: i guess you're forgiven...
maxverstappen1: so could you like tell me what you'd call me if i hypothetically fucked charles over... i'm not gonna but like i need to mentally prepare myself to hear it
yourusername: i have faith in you so i haven't thought that far ahead
maxverstappen1: can you please not be too mean i can't take it
charles_leclerc: you wanna come to therapy with me buddy?
maxverstappen1: i think i might
yourusername: when we entered the reputation era i did not think it would lead to taking max verstappen to therapy
maxverstappen1: and taylor swift?
yourusername: ... and taylor swift
user36: this is all very cute and all but can we have mean y/n back
user37: when will yall learn that reputation is a love album and y/n and charles are just loving each other freely
user38: but mean y/n did teach someone a lesson in not spreading false rumours cause them tabloids have been QUIET
f1tea
liked by user43, user44 and 7,233 others
f1tea: carlos sainz was caught liking these tweets about charles leclerc and y/n y/ln, what do you think?
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user45: put me in the ring with carlos i am being so serious
user46: okay for a while i was on the fence about y/n and how intense she was being but like seeing this shit and realising it was probably what was being said in the garage she needed to do more
user47: for real if someone said that about my boyfriend i'd be in prison
user48: so charles and y/n were under contract to not say a word out of line about ferrari or anything to do with ferrari and this guy is out here liking this
user49: call me a conspiracy theorist but this was his public account... he meant for people to find it and wants people to know this stuff
user50: this is why he DNFed in the first race KARMA
user51: maybe this is why he's always the one with relationship issues bro clearly has no loyalty
user52: charles has never said anything about him even now and y/n only said something in retaliation
user53: fuck peace and love y/n needs to give this man hell
user54: read him for filth
user55: bro needs to keep his twitter fingers to himself and focus on not being in the wall ❤️
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,311,885 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: this is why we can't have nice things, darling
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user56: this is the most response we'll ever get from charles i fear
user57: allow me to elaborate: this is why we can't have nice things by taylor swift is about 'forgiving' the people who wronged you but she literally says "and here's to you because forgiveness is a nice thing to do... i can't even say it with a straight face" so basically charles doesn't forgive carlos or fred. and it specifically shouts out her family and friends and lover for sticking with her which is what charles' family, friends and y/n have done
liked by charles_leclerc
user58: thank you for service
yourusername: i'm reading what they call you lately (it says you're a race winner and a title contender)
charles_leclerc: got a taste of the celebrations and can't get enough
maxverstappen1: KEEP IT PG THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE
charles_leclerc: you're older than me
yourusername: all we said were celebrations, if anything you have the dirty mind 🤨
maxverstappen1: i am usually in the room next to you, i hope this helps
charles_leclerc: our bad <3
maxverstappen1: you don't care do you?
yourusername: not really no. when we get to the same amount of wins as you maybe it'll wear off
maxverstappen1: not on my watch
user58: is this an entertaining title fight but without the bad blood?
user59: and nowhere near ferrari? bless
alexalbon: i hate that i understand all these references
yourusername: lily trained you well
lilymunhe: like a drill sergeant
yourusername: as you should
sebastianvettel: proud of you charlie, i'm glad you're not wasting your talent
charles_leclerc: i love you seb, i'm sorry it took so long
sebastianvettel: make sure you win here, we can be ferrari failures together
yourusername: *ferrari failed you
sebastianvettel: i knew there was a reason i liked you
fin.
note: SOZ. so like i am still working on requests but that radio message FUCKED ME UP. so this had to happen. glad my queen girls (max and charles) did well today, hope you enjoyed !!!
#f1#f1 x you#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc instagram edit#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc social media au
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we need to talk about Inprnt.com
Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.
First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.
(top right print is not from inprnt though)
They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.
Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.
Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.
And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.
Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:
Note the date.
Almost two months.
And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.
It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.
So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.
It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.
As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).
#it's so god damn insulting u know. even redbubble threw its shitty payouts directly into my paypal asap#inprnt
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How to Wake Up Early
I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.
Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.
I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.
Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.
That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.
Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.
So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.
I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.
1. Reset your space the night before
This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.
Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.
2. Early dinner
I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.
3. No devices before sleeping
I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.
4. Using Alarmy app
This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.
5. Keep your phone across the room
Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.
6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm
Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.
I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.
Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.
7. Turn a small light on
Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.
8. Be consistent, even on weekends
The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.
What do I do if I have a late night?
It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.
If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.
#c suite#powerful woman#strong women#ceo aesthetic#personal growth#that girl#productivity#q/a#getting your life together#balance#waking up early#neuroscience#Andrew Huberman’s#K-pop#jihyo
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OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.
^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered
A Person to Hold
Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue
Tags: fluff
Read on AO3
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Headcanons
He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.
"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.
You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat.
A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?
No.
None of that.
You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.
"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."
"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"
You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind.
"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."
He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.
He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.
Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded.
He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.
And he has you.
Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.
You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place.
You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.
Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.
But now he has you.
To hold, to kiss, to talk.
To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.
How could he become so happy?
“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.
How come he has you?
You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.
“Let’s go to the tent.”
“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”
Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.
You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.
In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.
He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket.
You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.
Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.
Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.
"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer
“Hm?”
“Thank you for finding me."
You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”
He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.
“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.”
--
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#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion romance#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion angst#astarion drabble#astarion short fic#spacebarbarian fics#astarion fluff#astarion comfort#baldur's gate post game
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