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#and now i have to figure out how i am going to link to my partner's (very cute) story while it is hosted on the Bad Website.

thechosenthree · 16 hours

Text

I am back with more Kendra haunting the narrative thoughts after watching Helpless.

This episode is all about slayers and tradition, it’s about the Watcher’s Council treating the slayers as expendable and disposable. Giles says “It's a test, Buffy. It's given to The Slayer once she— if she reaches her eighteenth birthday.”

This episode is about Kendra.

Even though the episode refuses to say her name, Kendra Young is everywhere! Not even a full season before this episode aired, we were shown— for the first time but far from the last— the tragedy of a slayer dying too young in the line of duty, another slayer rising from her grave and then her being seemingly forgotten about.

The show tries to forget Kendra the same way the council does. I’ve already talked in the post I linked above, about how Faith’s existence ensures that we don’t. But it’s more than that!! The tragedy of the slayers and what Buffy and Faith go through, the entire premise of the show, continues to remind the audience of the slayer who didn’t make it as far as them.

Buffy is going through an identity crisis this episode, she has lost her slayer powers and she doesn’t know why. Giles is in no big rush to figure it out, he doesn’t actually seem all that concerned, and Buffy grows increasingly adrift. She realizes she doesn’t know who she is if she’s not The Slayer.

She’s very aware of who she was before. She brings up Cordelia to make this comparison— her ex shadow self who is a representation of her childhood, of the Buffy she was before she was “Buffy, The Vampire Slayer”— and she seems ashamed of who she was then.

She doesn’t want to go back to being that person. She literally CAN’T go back, and she knows that. She has been changed by her experiences, even without her slayer powers, she is a different person than she was. Buffy says “I’ve seen too much. I know what goes bump in the night. Not being able to fight it— what if I just hide under my bed, all scared and helpless?”

She can’t return to the naïveté of the life she lived before she knew what was out there. I mean, she already tried that!! Buffy spent much of s1 trying to hold on to who she used to be, not wanting to let it go, not wanting to acknowledge that that girl and that life were already gone. Her death in Prophecy Girl goes hand in hand with her accepting that she can’t outrun her destiny, she can’t NOT be The Slayer.

Much of s2 was about accepting that being the slayer was a part of her life now. But Buffy continued to treat it like it was a job, one that had been chosen for her and that she’d accepted she needed to do, but a job nonetheless. She was at war with these two sides of herself, unable to see how they could possibly fit. Kendra played a big part in helping her along that journey. “You talk about slaying like it's a job. It's not. It's who you are,” Kendra tells her in What’s My Line.

Kendra who identified as “The Vampire Slayer” before identifying as Kendra. Kendra who never had a childhood or the chance to try and figure out who she was as a person. She was a weapon and a tool forged, used and discarded by the council (and the show). Being the slayer was not only who Kendra was, it was all she was allowed to be.

I can’t imagine the writers were unaware that writing an episode like this would remind people of Kendra. After all that same Buffy speech I quoted earlier includes the first mention of Kendra’s stake since it’s introduction in Becoming. “… Or what if I just become pathetic? Hanging out at the old slayer’s home, talking people’s ears off about my glory days. Showing them Mr. Pointy, the stake I had bronzed.”

Buffy is able to imagine living long enough to grow old IF she doesn’t have her powers. That isn’t the life of a slayer and she knows that, has seen the consequences of this life first hand. She herself has already died young, and a year later she watched her friend die. She goes from being unable to imagine any kind of future at all for herself to spiraling about the possible reality of a powerless one.

Buffy talks about all this while name dropping the stake a 17 year old slayer gave her just before her death… A slayer who didn’t even live long enough to be forced to endure this cruel test.

Reminding the audience of Kendra seems intentional. Which makes them refusing to say her name even more infuriating.

But she IS there, whether truly intentional or not, the show continues to remind me of her. She’s nowhere and everywhere all at once.

#okay this got away from me but I’m making myself post it anyway because i love kendra and want to keep talking about her #i just have so many thoughts about her #also all the nice comments on my other post made me so happy to be having this discussion with you all #kinda got freaked about being perceived and am anxious to post this. but here goes #kendra young #buffy summers #kuffy #buffy x kendra #kendra x buffy #the slayers #the watcher’s council #btvs #btvs meta #buffy the vampire slayer #mine

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unpretty · 1 year

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hey. Please link the pillow? 😢

i am going to use an amazon affiliate link but if you would rather look it up elsewhere, i support you. if you can find it cheaper literally anywhere, get that one. if you can find a bootleg please tell me because i looked for months before giving in and buying this fucking pillow. if you think you can get away with making your own out of foam, go for it. if your work gives you an HSA/FSA you can buy it with that, but you cannot get health insurance to reimburse you for it (i checked). i had to buy this fucking pillow with a goddamn payment plan. a pillow payment plan. nothing will make you question your life choices like needing a payment plan for a fucking pillow.

anyway it's called the medcline.

i have horrible acid reflux but ended up basically never using my bed wedge when i finally got one because trying to side sleep on a cheapo wedge is a nightmare. on multiple occasions i have slept so wrong i couldn't turn my neck for days. one time i fucked up my shoulder so bad i couldn't sleep on that side for a week. i have no idea how i pulled that off but clearly i have invented some advanced sleep failure techniques. as near as i can tell my sleeping body defaults to the family guy death pose, which is not ergonomic. so i bought the goddamn armhole pillow and figured if it didn't work i'd return it.

my side of the bed is a fortress now. when i pull the duvet up it looks like ferris bueller is trying to convince someone he's sick. the big curling body pillow looks like i killed clippy to sleep inside his corpse. when i am getting ready for bed it looks like i'm plugging myself into some kind of pod. it's so fucking dumb. i am sleeping great and no longer falling asleep to the taste of bile and waking up with a fucked up neck. my hips don't hurt. i can't return it. i can't go back to the before times. i'm so mad about it.

#original #affiliate links jsyk #greatest hits

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Careful - Chapter Five

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Five: Brick By Boring Brick

Her prince finally came to save her, and the rest you can figure out.

Summary:

The world is closing in around you. You're supposed to sit in your home and wait for a killer to come to you, and your son seems to prefer a man that you were convinced never should have been in his life in the first place.

What happened? Where did you go wrong?

The only way to find out is to reflect on the past - and to perhaps, forgive something you once thought was unforgivable.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 9,700

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder, stalking; the reader character is being victimized by a serial killer; angst - lots of emotional angst; the reader character and Spencer argue and hash things out; this chapter shows the flashback of how their relationship ended; mentions of drugs/drug use/drug addiction - there is mentions of Spencer’s drug addiction after the incident with Tobias Hankel; mentions of the reader having an eating disorder (in the past, before meeting Spencer); mentions of how pregnancy can affect eating disorders; mentions of the reader having an absent father; mentions of Spencer’s trauma/PTSD after the Hankel incident; mentions of lack of hygiene/lack of cleaning his apartment due to trauma and depression; Spencer uses his profiling skills to insult the reader; I believe that is it for this chapter.

A/N: This is it! This is the big chapter where we all find out what happened for them to break-up! I hope everyone enjoys it. (I am not gonna lie, I am really starting to mentally stall with this series, and I am really eager to work on something else lmao. So let's hope I can stick it out and get it done.)

...

Spencer considered lying to you.

He knew that you were going to have a hard time taking the news - there was no safehouse, no protective custody. Just him. Everything he had been offering before, nagging you about - it wasn’t truly being offered to you now. You would take it harder because now, in a sense, you and your son were being used as bait to lure the killer out and catch him in the act.

He considered lying to you. But he knew that it would ruin all the progress that the two of you had made.

So he made what he hoped was the right choice. He laid it all out for you as plainly as he could. They needed to catch him into the act, or he might choose a different victim. More innocent women might get hurt, their children being orphaned in the process. There would be unmarked cars stationed nearby, ready to help when Spencer called them in.

He would be there to protect you.

You still had a glisten of tears in your eyes, and he thought that you were going to panic. He was surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him again - but he embraced you tightly, feeling a certain selfish joy at having you back in his arms.

“As long as you’re here to protect me.” You sniffled quietly, burying your face in his chest once again.

“I’m not going to leave you.” He promised. “I don’t care what happens - I won’t let you out of my sight until we catch him.”

You didn’t bring up the fact that this likely meant sleeping in the same bed with Spencer. You weren’t sure if that was something you were looking forward to or dreading.

…

Spencer encouraged you to go about your usual routine - especially because he didn’t want Sebastian to be afraid or paranoid, even if such a smart boy could sense that you were upset and didn’t understand why.

Sebastian was easily distracted from the underlying tension when he realized that Spencer would be around to tuck him into bed.

He became so ripe with excitement that you thought it might be difficult for him to sleep. Even though his bed time wasn’t officially until later, he skipped his evening TV time to rush up the stairs so that Spencer would come with him. He insisted that Spencer help him pick out his pajamas, and then he wanted to show Spencer his toothbrush that played Moonlight Sonata (a toothbrush that was designed to play exactly two minutes of a song so that kids knew how long to brush their teeth).

You followed them upstairs and any efforts you made to help - showing Spencer which drawer the pjs were in and pointing to the drawer with the toothpaste in it - you were brushed off by Sebastian, who insisted that they didn’t need your help. He only wanted help from his new best friend.

Observing the whole thing truly made you wonder what the past four years of your life would have been like with Spencer there.

It caused a kind of lovesick nostalgia to flood you. Something that overtook you as you watched Spencer kneel down by the sink to get on Sebastian’s level, quietly complimenting him on his brushing technique and reminding him not to miss any spots - ready with a cloth to wipe your son’s face when he was all done.

You could only imagine how sweet he would have been with the newborn, tightly swaddled Seb; how he would have taken care of you so well after you gave birth, how perfect he would have looked with a baby in his arms. All of it left you stewing in regret, and you tried incredibly hard to hide a frown from Sebastian for the dozenth time that day.

Soon, Sebastian was rushing to jump into bed, and shouting an all too familiar request.

“Mommy, the stars!” He cheered brightly, pointing toward the lightswitch.

Spencer’s expression grew confused at this, and you felt a tingle of delight surge over the fear and anxiety for the first time in hours.

You turned off the lights, and then you walked over to a bookshelf on the far side of the room - on top of which, you had set up a star projector for Sebastian. It was something you had gotten for him as a night light when he was still very little. Even if it was an unconscious whim at the time - you couldn’t deprive Spencer’s son of the stars.

You switched it on and an array of bright stars were projected onto the ceiling, causing Spencer’s neck to crane upward in awe. Sebastian giggled in delight and flung himself backward in bed to look at it.

“He usually sleeps with this on as a night light, but he’s probably gonna want a story before he goes to sleep.” You said, motioning toward the book shelf. “You can turn the side lamp on.” You pointed to that as well. “Are you guys gonna be okay while I go get my pjs on?”

You knew that Spencer wasn’t likely to let you out of his sight - and that was exactly the look that came in his eyes; hesitant dread, clear to you even through the semi-darkness with the bright swirling lights moving across the ceiling reflected onto his face.

“Don’t lock your door.” He told you quietly. “And make sure to holler if you need anything.”

He chose his words carefully, not wanting to alarm Sebastian.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him. “I’m right down the hall.”

Then you turned to Sebastian - who was laying on his back, still admiring the stars, already looking sleepy. He’d had quite an exciting, usual day - so that wasn’t entirely surprising to you.

“I’ll come back and kiss you goodnight in a minute, okay?” You told him. “Spencer is gonna read you your goodnight story. Sounds good?”

“Yeah!” Sebastian easily agreed. “I love you, Mommy!”

That grin, those big eyes looking up at you - it really reminded you why all the pain was worth it. That you would do anything to protect him.

“I love you, too, Seb.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead, and then you moved to walk out of the room.

He added something on that caught you off guard, though, causing you to freeze in the doorway.

“Mommy?” He called out, and you turned back to look at him. “Can Spencer stay forever?”

You felt as though a fist had been jammed into your throat.

All of your bones were concrete stiff, and you couldn’t bear a single glance in Spencer’s direction - you felt his eyes on you, but you couldn’t face him.

“We - we’ll talk about it more tomorrow, okay?” You replied, having to clear your throat roughly in order to get the words out.

“Okay.” Sebastian huffed quietly, rolling into a yawn.

When you left the room, Spencer felt an intense temptation to follow you simply to pursue that subject - but he had an obligation toward his son now. Something he hadn’t had the privilege of partaking in before.

A simple bedtime story.

Spencer settled in with Sebastian and you rushed down the hallway toward your room. You closed the door behind you (not locking it) - the second that you were alone, the tears rushed out before you could stop them.

Of course your son had missed his father’s presence in his life. Even if he didn’t know that Spencer was his father - their personalities were so well-matched, and Spencer was so good with him.

How could you have been so stupid? Who were you to deny a child of his father?

You walked over to your bed and sat on the edge, and then you took your jewelry box out of your bedside table drawer - you kept it right next to the lock box that contained your gun. You opened the jewelry box and took out the star necklace that Spencer had given you, staring at the pendant in the middle of your palm with deep contemplation.

You had broken up with him for a good reason. Many good reasons. And you had known your reasons back then - and they had been life-altering. Back then - it felt like choosing between a secure life for your baby and choosing the chaos of chasing the life of your love. Back then - Spencer was so unstable. He hadn’t been fit to raise a child.

The Spencer who had swept you off your feet and treated you like a princess - the man who had given you the necklace; he was not the same person you had faced down, vicious and bitter on the night that you had broken up with him.

But that man who gave you the necklace - it felt like the same man who held you in the kitchen and promised that nothing would happen to you. It felt like the same man who looked at your son like he had hung each and every star in the sky.

You put the necklace back on with shaking hands, struggling to clasp it for a moment. You hoped that it would be an omen. The man who had given you this necklace was back, to stay - he could raise a family with you. He could be your stability. He could be what you and Seb needed.

Then, you tried to shut off your mind as you went about getting ready for bed yourself. Even though you were pretty certain that you weren’t going to sleep with all this hanging over your head, it was still nice to be in comfortable clothing; to have a routine. You did your nightly skincare (but you didn’t bother to brush your teeth, knowing that you were likely going to want some coffee soon), put on your pajamas, and uncaring if Spencer noticed - shed your bra, needing to relieve some tension from somewhere.

You left the room wearing a pair of loose, thin pajama pants and a large tee shirt with Garfield on the front of it; along with your slippers and an unzipped hoodie. You had the necklace freely untucked from the neckline of your shirt, knowing that Spencer would spot the silver chain and know what it was anyway.

He was a profiler, so he could read you like a book anyway. You hated that.

When you walked back to Sebastian’s room, you found it oddly quiet.

You were surprised that you didn’t hear the sounds of Spencer’s soothing voice reading a story, Sebastian’s laughter - his small voice egging Spencer on to read more even though it was time to go to sleep.

You stood out of view, just beyond the doorway for a moment before you decided to peer inside.

The sight inside made your chest twist with a very unique kind of pain.

Spencer was laying half on the small single bed, one of his feet on the floor to keep himself from falling off completely, his head awkwardly propped up against the headboard. Sebastian was about half a foot off the wall, cuddled up closely to Spencer, his head laid in the middle of Spencer’s chest. The Rubble plushy that Spencer had gotten him was curled up under his chin, Spencer’s arm gently petting his curly hair while he peacefully slept on top of his father for the first time in his short life.

The way Spencer looked at him was what truly broke your heart.

You knew that was the gaze of a man who had missed so much - whose own heart was breaking from all the time he had missed. Someone who was enjoying this moment more than anything in his life because he had missed out on so much of Sebastian before this.

After a few moments of you standing in the doorway silently, tears gathering in your eyes, Spencer felt your presence there. He was finally able to tear his gaze away from Sebastian’s gentle, sleeping face to look up at you.

“He said he wanted to hear ‘a new story’.” Spencer told you. “I started reciting The Old Man and The Sea from memory, and he only got about five pages in before he fell asleep.”

It didn’t surprise you that Spencer knew the novel by heart. It didn’t surprise you that his theatrical, meditative speaking voice had so easily soothed Sebastian to sleep.

You nodded, and deeply against your will - a thick tear rolled down your face.

Unable to face it any longer, you left once again - feeling like a prisoner in your own home, running from corner to corner in a poor attempt to avoid the inevitable. You rushed to the kitchen and clicked on the coffee machine before you began attending to the larger dishes from dinner - pots you had left to soak in the sink that you now wanted to scrub at in an effort to distract yourself.

Spencer felt a sense of urgency rise up in him when he saw you start crying (seemingly out of nowhere). He hated watching you run away from him for the dozenth time that day.

Any calm he had felt from watching his son fall asleep was chased out of him. But of course, he didn’t want to wake the peacefully sleeping boy, so he had to very slowly, very carefully wiggle out from underneath the sleeping boy. He adjusted Sebastian’s head onto the pillow, making sure to cover him up and tuck him in with his toy before he left the room - leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar behind him, with the star lights still circling the ceiling.

And then he practically raced downstairs to see you.

What had he done to upset you?

You wanted him to be a part of his son’s life, right? You wanted him to be a good father, right?

What the hell had he done to upset you now?

When he came into the kitchen, you were standing at the sink with your back to him, furiously scrubbing at one of the pots from dinner.

“What the hell happened?” He sighed, tired and frustrated. “What the hell could I have possibly done now?”

“You didn’t do anything.” You replied, your voice short, angry, and still choked off by tears.

In truth, it was your most honest view of the situation.

This made Spencer spike with an even deeper frustration.

He thought that the two of you had been making progress. But now, you were cutting him off again. You were trying to placate him with lies when he so badly wanted the truth. He wanted to air it all out. The two of you needed it out - out it in the open instead of festering away like a damn secret.

“No, no.” He pressed, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, swarming with bitterness. “Come on, I must have done something.”

You remained silent, letting out a single sniffle as you continued to scrub - the only sound going through the kitchen being the sloshing of water through the sink and the bubbling of the coffee maker.

“Trust me, I know how it is.” Spencer sighed. “I don’t open up enough, I don’t trust you… it’s always my fault.”

In the months after the break-up, he had done a lot of thinking. He had gone over it in his head again and again - he had picked apart his own flaws in his mind, wondering how he could have been better for you.

“That’s just it.” You replied, your throat closing up due to your own tears. “You’re perfect.” You sniffled again. “You didn’t do anything.”

This left Spencer silent and confused - wondering for a moment if you were being sarcastic.

You put down the sponge and grabbed a dry dish cloth off to the side, drying your hands as you turned back to Spencer.

When he caught your eyes, he knew then that it wasn’t sarcasm. You were swimming in sadness, turmoil, but most of what he could see was guilt. You didn’t blame him for any of this.

“Y/N-”

“All day, you’ve been perfect.” You huffed out, cutting him off. “I’ll be honest, at first, I thought it was an act. I thought you were just playing at it, trying to show me that you could be a good father to get in my good graces. To maybe get me back.”

Spencer was hurt by this. But with the way you had started off the sentence, that didn’t seem to be your opinion now. He remained silent, letting you continue to get the full stream of your thoughts out.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to keep it up. I thought something would happen. I thought you’d slip… but then, I realized: you can’t fake it. You’re not faking it. The way you are… you’ve changed. You really have changed.” You sighed.

He was glad to hear that, but he knew that there was something else. Now, he was determined to find out why you were upset.

“Look-”

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing?” You spoke suddenly. “I just feel so crazy… Did I really break up with you for no fucking reason?”

This stung Spencer.

He knew that there had been a myriad of good reasons at the time. But something he had gone over in his mind, stewing with regret over and over again - he had never wanted it to be a break-up. He had wished over and over again that the two of you could have worked on things instead of just ending them so suddenly.

“You did have your reasons back then.” Spencer admitted quietly. “I know that you did.” Then, after a moment, he felt the need to add on: “I… I know they were good reasons. I don’t blame you for wanting to end the relationship.”

He chose his words carefully in that sense.

He fully understood ending the relationship. That was your choice. But the one thing that still plagued him-

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?” He asked, entirely exasperated.

It was as though he had flipped the knife around, plunging it into you this time.

You remained stunned and silent, not prepared to be confronted by the question, and Spencer, utterly hurt, continued on.

“You stole four years of his life from me! Four years!” He shouted, his words whipping at you in a way that made you flinch. “And you were never planning on telling me! You were gonna let me miss everything! His first day of school, his college graduation, his wedding! You never wanted me in his life! You-!”

“Because you weren’t good enough for him!” You shouted back, utterly defensive.

You hated that you couldn’t take it back - you hated the pain that flooded across Spencer’s features.

“Not back then.” You added on, knowing that it was barely a worthy addendum. “The man I left standing in that apartment wasn’t someone I wanted to raise a child with-”

“How is that any excuse?” Spencer spit back bitterly.

You glared at him.

You had your reasons then. It felt like you were on trial, now, though. And you had to scramble to put together a defense - to explain it to him when he had been the accused in the crime at the time.

“You really can’t understand why I didn’t tell you that I was pregnant?” You gaped, still defensive.

“No, I really don’t get it.” He agreed, shaking his head. “You had to know that I would have done anything to become a father. No matter what, I would have stepped up, I-”

“Oh, don’t give me that!”

You were raising your voice now, years old anger bubbling up in your veins, awoken by his self righteous attitude - his foggy nostalgia when viewing his past self.

“It was bad, Spencer. It was a bad time. And you can’t tell me with all honesty that you would have turned it around like that,” You snapped your fingers to help demonstrate the point. “Just because you found out that when you came inside me, it stuck.”

“I would have tried.” Spencer pressed.

“But you wouldn’t have tried for me?” You replied desperately.

That stung you deep, tearing open some of the wounds you still had from that night.

It was something you had suspected, but you had never heard him confirm it for certain.

When you had been back there, begging him to change - he had turned on you. You alone weren’t good enough for him.

Spencer’s face fluctuated rapidly between shock and discomfort, and with no words from him, you continued.

“A baby would have been enough for you, but when I was sobbing, begging you to get better - that wasn’t good enough?” You continued, fresh tears clutching at your throat, beginning to simulate the sight he had been met with on the night you had broken up.

It was a terrible mirror. You standing in front of him, your face a picture of pure pain with glassy tears dancing in your eyes - begging him for answers, begging him to show that he loved you. That he would step up and improve out of love for you.

Because that’s what it was.

It hit him so suddenly then.

He saw that night - that deadly, world ending fight - in a whole new light now.

…

Just before the break-up, you and Spencer hadn’t officially moved in together, but you did have a key to his apartment. Moving in together was supposed to be the next logical step in your relationship, and he was heavily considering asking you to move in with him.

Well, he had been thinking about it - before his entire world was turned upside-down by a man named Tobias Hankel. When he came home scarred and emotionally chaotic, thinking about taking ‘next steps’ in life wasn’t really something he was doing.

Instead, he was in survival mode. And for the first time in his life, he was trying to do as little thinking as possible. Whenever he spent too much time in his own head, he had nightmares - he found himself back in that tiny room, strapped down to that chair, cold and unable to escape, with death looming over his head.

He hated that he relied on the drugs to drown it all out.

Among the mess that he often found between his ears - he often forgot that you had a key to his place.

When he came home that night, he was expecting to take a particularly heavy hit that would hopefully put him right into a long, dreamless sleep. He definitely did not expect you to be there. It wasn’t something that the two of you had discussed beforehand. If you had asked to come over, he likely would have said no. He squinted against the lights as he opened the door to his apartment and a particular wave of nausea hit him as the smell of food cooking hit his nose.

Perhaps it was that ironic kind of nausea that only comes after starving for so long. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Of course, his body seemed to run perfectly fine on nothing but coffee and that precious thing that felt so heavy in his pocket. As far as he knew, he didn’t need to eat.

“Spencer?” You called out his name when you heard the door creaking on its hinges, and Spencer sighed deep in his chest when he realized that the interaction was inevitable.

So much for a peaceful night.

You had been so much of a nag lately. The way you had been acting, he would even border on calling it bitchy.

When he wanted you there for meaningless sex to get his mind off things or even if he just wanted to cuddle, when he needed you to hold him - you always wanted to talk. You were constantly on him, asking him what was wrong, and how you could help. You wouldn’t just shut up and leave well enough alone; no matter how many times he told you to lay off and insisted that he was fine. (He knew that it was a lie, but he didn’t force you to talk about your problems. He wished you could see that he just wanted to be left alone. That he could get through this on his own.)

The last time he had seen you, he had torn out of your apartment at the speed of sound when he had taken off his sweater in anticipation of some hopefully mind numbing orgasms - and instead, you had asked about the marks on his arm.

And he had been dreading seeing you again ever since.

“Hey.” He called back dully, slinking in the door and closing it behind him.

He tossed his keys onto a nearby table - one that was already messy with books and newspapers. He took off his messenger bag and tossed it down carelessly too, still not turning to look at you as he peeled off his outer jacket. He left a sweater on underneath to keep his arms covered; he didn’t need any more questioning from you right now.

“I made you dinner.” You pointed out, your voice tentatively hopeful. “It’s that cheese tortellini that you said you liked. And I stopped by that little shop downtown and got some of those chocolate cupcakes.”

When Spencer finally turned around, you were holding a bright pink box with the lid open, displaying two very plump, beautifully decorated chocolate cupcakes - a small, tired smile on your lips while you waited for him to say something about the kindness of the gesture.

A fresh wave of nausea rolled over him at the sight and all he felt was annoyance.

(What made things worse was that you had clearly taken the time to dress up. You were wearing one of your nicer dresses, a matching cardigan thrown over your shoulders. A light, but well done dusting of makeup across your beautiful features. If Spencer wasn’t mistaken, he could hear the clack of heels beyond the counter where he couldn’t see your lower half. You looked gorgeous, and it made him feel all the more like garbage where he stood.)

“You didn’t have to.” He huffed out, still trying to be civil, even though all he wanted at the moment was to be left alone in his own home, rather than having you there, bothering him.

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” You giggled, closing the box and setting it aside. “You’re absolutely worth it.”

That was it. That was the comment that truly cut through him.

Because he wasn’t worth it - he was a scumbag. He was a piece of trash who pitied a man who had killed seven people, and he should have died in that shitty little shack in the cemetery instead of standing here with you while you took the time to buy him cupcakes and make him dinner. He shouldn’t get to be spoiled by you after everything he had done.

Every ounce of that anger that he was feeling toward himself boiled over like a terrible overcooked pot and came spitting out like hot oil, ready to burn you.

“Can you just shut up?” He snapped. “I didn’t ask you to do any of this.”

He felt regret churn in his stomach when your face curled with hurt, and he was surprised when you didn’t immediately leave.

“It’s okay.” You said quietly.

The fact that you rolled over so easily, so apologetic - that annoyed him more.

He watched on with shock as you reached a hand toward your purse, which was sequestered off on one edge of the counter - a space you had clearly cleaned off before you had started cooking.

(Spencer could only imagine how much you looked down upon him, considering him a lazy pig with how messy and generally unhygienic his apartment was because - even though he hated it - he couldn’t bring himself to clean with his generally mental disarray as of late.)

You put a hand into the open zipper of your bag and soon came out with something you easily knew was there, didn’t even have to dig around for, and Spencer watched on curiously as your hand came back with a thick fistful of colorful pamphlets.

“I also got these for you.” You said, extending the arm out to him.

He had a terrible knot in his gut.

He stepped forward on shaking legs and when he grabbed them from you - surely enough, it was exactly what he had feared.

Spencer’s eyes grew tense with anger as he scanned over it all.

A bunch of crap about sober living with generic stock images of people smiling - well paid models who had never known a single day of pain in their stupid, well groomed lives. People who could never even imagine what Spencer had been through.

“We can talk about it when you’re ready.” You told him, anxiety keeping your breath tight in your chest as you spoke. “I know it’s hard, so-”

What the hell did you know?

“God, you are so fucking full of it!” Spencer shouted, tossing down the pamphlets, causing them to scatter across the counter in a mess, his sudden spike in volume making you flinch.

As though you had been slapped, it took you a moment to recover from the pure shock of his words before you could actually speak any kind of reply.

“What?” You gaped at him. “Spencer, what the hell do you mean? I’m trying to help-”

“‘Oh, I know it’s hard.’” He repeated your words in a mocking voice. “Please, what the hell do you know?”

That caused a dangerous shift in you, turning the understanding and pity inside of you toward fed-up anger.

“I don’t know anything because you won’t tell me!” You shouted back. “You won’t even tell me what the hell is wrong! It’s like you don’t even fucking trust me!”

Unconsciously, this is exactly what Spencer had wanted. He had wanted a fight - claws, noise. He needed to be punished. He couldn’t stand you sitting around, acting so damn calm, being so sweet to him when he was so awful.

“Why should I tell you?” Spencer argued, grasping blindly at nothing, yelling just to make noise. “It’s none of your goddamn business!”

“Why wouldn’t this be any of my business?” You gasped. “Spencer, we’ve been together for - what? Almost three years now?”

It had been two years, eleven months, and three days since your first date. It had been two years, eleven months, and fifteen days since he had first spoken to you. It had been three years and four days since he had first laid eyes on you - thinking that you were the most beautiful woman on earth, thinking that he would never, ever work up the courage to speak to you. Thinking that there was no chance on earth that you would ever actually be his.

And now, he was about to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

All good things must come to an end, right?

“I care about you.” You said, your voice cracking around the words - the ghost of tears beginning to form in your throat, like dark clouds forming in the sky before a storm. “That makes it my business.”

Spencer huffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s not just ‘whatever’, Spencer!” You screamed, your frustration flaring up once again.

He didn’t speak, he just kept on glaring at you. This pissed you off more - finally gave you the balls to say it.

“You’re on drugs!” You finally found the courage to speak it aloud. There was a tense stare down as you waited for him to deny the accusation. When he didn’t, a sharp spear pierced your chest, and the first tears fell. “You’re hurting yourself. This is a big deal, baby. You need help.”

Looking back on it now - it had been four years, nine months, and eight days since the last time you had called him ‘baby’. He should have seen it then, but this was the beginning of the end.

He should have latched onto it as a safety line and pulled himself ashore. He should have accepted the help that you were so graciously offering him.

But instead, at the time - it only stung him more. It only showed him a display of the sweetness that he didn’t think he deserved. It only caused him to turn on his defenses more.

Like a poisonous plant evolving his instincts in the worst way - it made him fight back harder.

“Don’t tell me what I fucking need!” Spencer cried out, every inch of his voice utterly insulted. “So what if I’m on drugs? You’re not a fucking peach yourself!” He let out a bitter, airy chuckle with these words, and instantly your face shifted.

A very large part of you knew that he was resorting to personal attacks because he was desperately trying to shift the attention away from himself - away from talking about his own problems. But with the shock and hurt pulsing through your system, you couldn’t truly focus on the logic of it all.

“What?” You gaped. “Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“You - you act so goddamn perfect all the time, but-”

He stuttered, hesitating for a fraction of a moment, watching the hurt and confusion tangle over your beautiful features - he could have blamed it on the drugs in his system or the fact that the trauma had been so recent and he technically had not ‘recovered’ from it. But he made the final move, then, hurling a harpoon into your relationship, making a giant wound that couldn’t be recovered from.

“But you’re a pathetic, shallow little girl with abandonment issues because your father left you before you hit puberty-” He said, breaking you down in that intense, psychological, profiler way. “You seek validation from me, the man you’re having sex with, in the most utterly Freudian way, and when you don’t receive that validation, you starve yourself in the name of vanity, seeking satisfaction and control that you’ll never truly obtain because you’re a narcissistic control freak!”

He managed to hit every point perfectly; he had used his skills to look into your soul, hand-picking every single thing that would have hurt you most. Given, he also had information that you had told him during late-night conversations where the two of you had bonded. You had told him about your shitty father and the eating disorder that you struggled with on and off since childhood (and still occasionally struggled with since you had met him). He had told you about his mother and his own shitty father - but it was never something that you would have used against him.

You knew that it was meant to hurt you - to distract you. You knew that he was lashing out in order to put a wall between himself and you. But you couldn’t help the giant lump that rose up in your throat, the flood of tears that poured freely down your face.

Hearing those words right from his mouth was one of your worst nightmares come to life - as though one of your safest, softest places to land was now a bed of thorns.

Spencer’s gut twisted when he saw you crying, but like a man possessed, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Did you honestly think that being with me was going to fix you?” He let out a dark chuckle, sounding well and truly like a super villain, punching right through your heart. “Maybe, you should spend less time focusing on me and my supposed problems,” He griped, sarcasm tight on his lips. “And spend a bit more time fixing yourself.”

You sucked in a chest rattling breath, and began gathering your purse, leaving the pamphlets on the counter as you moved to grab your coat off the hook.

You would forever regret turning back for one last word, your throat quaking hard and struggling to even get the words out.

“And how would you recommend that I do that?” You asked, entirely bitter.

“Well, for starters, you could use a few less cupcakes in your life.” He replied, snarky, demanding.

He was angry about the cupcakes because they represented everything good about you - your generosity, your kindness, your propensity to view the small things in life as a representation of life being good as a whole.

It came off sounding like a jab at your weight, degrading your perfect body - especially after he had called you narcissistic for having an eating disorder.

A sharp jolt went through his chest when the words fully penetrated his own ears - when he truly heard how terrible it was.

Especially when he saw the look of horror that struck your gorgeous, tear-soaked features.

“Y/N-” He said your name so softly, and an apology begging to be chased from his lungs.

But you wouldn’t let him.

“We’re done here.” You declared, a dark finality in your voice as you turned and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind you.

At the time, Spencer simply thought you meant - done with the conversation. He didn’t know that you had already decided that your words were declaring - done with the relationship. At the time, you were well and truly done with Spencer Reid.

He ached to chase after you, to scream apologies down the hall, no matter who would hear him - but his feet only carried him as far as the door before he collapsed against it, pressing his forehead hard into the wood while his soul clawed at the inside of his chest, aching to get to you, mourning that he had hurt you so badly.

Spencer left the food to go stale, turning off all the lights in the apartment. Then he took a strong hit, and cried himself to sleep.

He woke up the next morning stewing in regret. He called you, and of course, you didn’t answer. He sat on the edge of his bed, thinking. He wondered if he should go to your favorite coffee shop, get your favorite breakfast and go to your place to force his way in so that he could talk things over with you. He wondered if he should agree to go to one of the sober treatment programs that you had picked out just to please you.

While he was considering all of this, his phone rang, and he rushed to pick it up, thinking that maybe it was you. It was JJ, alerting him to a case. He gathered his things and left for work, letting you fall into the back of his mind, thinking that he would be able to pick up the pieces and apologize when he got back.

But it had been too late.

The next time he opened his apartment door, he tripped over the key he had given you. You had slid it under the door in order to return it to him after locking up.

You had let yourself in to gather your things from Spencer’s place, and to leave a very large box of his things that had been left at your place in the middle of his kitchen counter. Beside that box was an envelope with his name on it. A six page handwritten letter from you, explaining all of your reasoning for not wanting to speak to him in person, wishing him well in getting sober, telling him not to make any efforts to contact you again because he had hurt you so badly and you simply needed to heal - and declaring the end of the relationship finite and official.

(Your pregnancy, of course, was mentioned nowhere among those six pages.)

Several weeks later, Spencer would receive a similar letter from Gideon when he left the BAU without telling anyone.

When he read your letter, Spencer sobbed so loudly that his throat hurt.

And after reading it several more times, letting it truly hit him - he flushed the last of the stash he had down the toilet. A few weeks later, after he had worked up the courage, he went to your apartment. After a while of him knocking on the door and calling your name, begging for you to come out and see him, one of your neighbors came out. They yelled at him to shut up, and informed him that you had moved.

That was the first day Spencer went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.

…

It had all happened so fast.

You found out you were pregnant, and you knew that the end of your lease was coming up. It had been a time you were hoping to move in with Spencer, but with that hope blown to shreds, you needed a fresh start.

Your mom knew someone selling for cheap because it was in a newly developing area, and most of the other houses around it weren’t finished yet. She thought it wouldn’t appeal to you because it was in a different state, but - you found yourself calling the real estate agent and packing up your boxes that week.

You figured that because you had done so well growing up without a father, your kid didn’t need one either. You didn’t want Spencer to cause more trouble being in his life and being unstable than not being there at all.

So you fled. It seemed like the wisest decision at the time.

…

Spencer had been so stupid.

Not only had he hurt you badly - but you had wanted him to get sober out of love. You had been so patient with him, so soft, so loving. You weren’t talking about his addiction because you wanted to pick apart his flaws. You hadn’t gone to his apartment that night because you wanted to hurl around accusations. You hadn’t wanted to be invasive; you hadn’t thought that he was a genuinely horrible, broken person and you simply wanted him to admit that.

You saw that he was hurting and you had wanted to help him heal.

At the time, you had nothing but love for him - and you had even loved those broken parts of him. He hadn’t been prepared to accept that love. He had made a terrible mistake. And there was only one thing he could do now.

Spencer shocked you when he moved from leaning on the kitchen counter and got down on his knees in front of you. Your jaw slacked in shock and you stared down at him as he clasped his hands together as though praying, staring up at you with his wide, wet eyes.

“I am so sorry.” He said, his voice quaking around the words. “I know that I could never apologize enough for what happened - I was horrible to you back then. You definitely didn’t hallucinate that.”

“Well… it wasn’t all you, right? I mean, you weren’t really yourself then.” You sniffled, clearly making an implication toward the fact that he had been taking drugs.

All this time, you had put a lot of emotional stake in that. When you looked back on your memories with Spencer, you hoped that drugs was solely the reason he had turned into a different person - a kind of person who would make such harsh personal attacks toward you.

It made a lot of sense as to why he was so sweet, so normal, so personable, so good with Sebatian, so himself now. He must be sober.

“That’s no excuse.” He told you. “I need to take full responsibility for my behavior. I treated you with the type of cruelty that no person should ever have to experience, let alone a partner.”

“Spencer, get up, please.” You reached over and grabbed the fabric at the shoulder of his shirt, and he let you haul him to his feet.

It felt all too natural to stay close to you.

As you leaned up against the counter beside the sink, your hands drifted to his waist and pulled him to you. And his hands lingered behind you on the counter, bracketing you in. His face hovered close to yours - this was the closest he had come to kissing you all day. His eyes lingered on your lips.

But he knew that the two of you were too close now - too close to the truth.

He had to let you speak instead. He couldn’t risk ruining things again.

“I accept your apology.” You told him quietly.

It was something you had been waiting years to hear him say. This moment - this whole day - it was like something out of your distant fantasies. You didn’t think that you would ever get to see this version of Spencer again. And now, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with him. You still felt too cautious.

“I really want to work on things.” It was the truth, and you knew that you had to speak it out loud. “I really want you to be a part of Sebastian’s life.”

I really want to work on things.

It was the tiniest scrap of hope, but it was all he needed to pursue things.

“Are you and I gonna work on things?” Spencer asked, barely above a whisper, reaching a hand up to oh-so-gently brush his fingers across the side of your face. “Is there a future for us?”

He closed his eyes and tentatively pressed his forehead into yours while you tightly gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. His soul was clawing at his chest once again, feeling all too much like the night you had left him in the apartment all alone.

But this time, he wasn’t prepared to let you go.

“Can you answer something honestly?” You whispered.

“Anything.” Spencer replied.

“Have you…?” You breathed out, unsure how to phrase the question. “When was the last time… are you clean? Like - are you sober?”

You were almost certainly sure that he was. He was acting so different, so much more like the version of Spencer that you had fallen in love with. But you couldn’t have someone who was actively on drugs parenting your son. And you had to hope that his prolonged trip to the bathroom earlier wasn’t for that reason.

“One thousand, seven hundred, and two days.” Spencer replied. “That’s how long I’ve been sober.”

That was a very long time. You let out a breath of relief, and Spencer felt it puff out against his chin. To clarify, he then said:

“It’s about - four years, eight months, and two days.” He added on.

“So… a little after the time I ended things.” You concluded.

You felt a pang of guilt flow through you. At the time, you knew that breaking up with him was a risk. It was a painful event, and he could have turned to drugs even more for comfort. You had taken away his support system, something that could have helped him in getting sober. But he was spiraling, and you couldn’t stay there and let him take you down too.

When you found out about the pregnancy, you realized that a large part of how quick you were to act and how rash you were was likely due to the pregnancy hormones. But you weren’t going to rush back and apologize to Spencer because you didn’t want an addict helping to raise your child. You didn’t think that he would simply quit cold turkey because he found out about the baby - not from the way you had seen him.

But apparently -

“The break-up… the way things ended, it was a huge catalyst in helping me get sober.” Spencer told you. “And I’m thankful for that.”

That part surprised you.

At the time, you know you could have severely relapsed in your eating disorder.

The only reason you didn’t was because you found out that you were pregnant. Knowing that you had another human life to support, that your body wasn’t just your own - it pushed you to eat healthy, and allowed you the mental room to eat ‘treats’ when you wanted to. Nobody cares if a pregnant woman gets fatter, and that did make you feel safe, in a sense.

You knew that you didn’t want to date after Sebastian was born - you were focusing so much on him that you didn’t have too much room to be self conscious of your Mommy body. You exercised by lifting Sebastian and carrying him around. Later, you got plenty of exercise chasing him around when he could walk. You didn’t think too much about your diet, because you mostly just ate what he did, and made sure that he was eating healthy.

In a lot of ways, he saved you. Becoming a mother was the best thing that could have happened - for your mind, body, and soul.

“What I was doing… it was not the kind of coping mechanism I should have used.” Spencer spoke up again, distracting you from your own thoughts. “But knowing that I hurt you like that - knowing that I lost the best thing in my life… it made me realize that I was turning into someone I didn’t want to be. I was turning into this utterly horrible person, and I needed to change.”

“Spencer-” You choked out.

Hearing him describe himself as an ‘utterly horrible person’ did hurt.

“It’s okay.” He said softly.

“Can - can I ask what happened?” You whispered. “What made you turn to-? I mean… you left and then when you came back… you were so different.”

He knew what you were talking about.

He wasn’t even sure how he could put it into words for you.

A man in Georgia who had taken on the personality of his father in order to survive. Seven murders in the name of religion. A case that was supposed to be straightforward - a time where Spencer had nearly met God himself.

He had refused to tell you back then because he didn’t want to be seen as weak. He didn’t want to taint you with the details. He wanted to be comforted and coddled by you without you knowing why he needed that comfort.

After a moment of Spencer not speaking - standing there with distant horror in his eyes as it all replayed in his mind, you spoke again.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” You said, reaching up and gently petting a hand down his arm. “You’ve done a lot of healing since then, and I know it’s in your past now.”

“Tobias Hankel.” He told you, confusing you slightly for a moment before he continued. “He - he was a man who killed seven people. It was a case in Georgia. It was supposed to be standard. We were called in to profile the murders, and actually - he was listed as a witness, and JJ and I went out to interview him. It was a really secluded area. And we got separated.” Spencer took in a breath, and you continued touching his arm, a gentle assurance that you were there, that it was okay. “And… he caught me off guard. He knocked me unconscious.”

Spencer didn’t feel the need to give you all the dirty details. How he had been shocked by Tobias speaking in the voice of his father, by the appearance of ‘both suspects’ in one body. How he had begged for mercy.

“And he took me to another location. And when I woke up… I had no clue where I was.” He said, this throat tightening up as the memories came flooding back to him.

“Oh baby, that must have been so scary.” You said, the word flying from your lips out of instinct as you moved your hand to his chest - instinctively trying to protect his heart with the whole of your palm.

Hearing it from your lips, so gentle, so soothing - baby.

Spencer felt like he was at home again. It was the last thing he needed to crack open that door - everything he had been holding back, every raw emotion - it came flooding out.

He blinked out tears, and you thought that it was terror resurfacing from that day.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” You told him, reaching up to wipe those tears away. “I’m here now.”

That’s all he had ever wanted. To be here with you. All he had ever needed.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“You don’t have to thank me.” You replied, your voice gentle.

“At the time - he drugged me.” Spencer continued the explanation - the one he so dutifully owed you. “That - that’s why.” He stuttered out. “When I came home… I couldn’t stop. It was the only thing numbing the pain. The only thing stopping me from… truly facing it all. From thinking about everything that had happened to me - processing it. I didn’t want to like it, but… it was the only thing that got me through when I was… when I felt like I was so close to death. I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know how to exist without it at the time.”

Spencer took in a sharp breath.

“And when you left, I realized that I needed to stop - I needed to stop the drugs, or I was just gonna lose everything.”

“You are so strong.” You said, your own voice ripe with tears as you continued to hold Spencer’s face, holding both of his cheeks now, forcing his gaze toward you. Your eyes were burning passionate, every inch of the declaration intense and strong. “Spencer, you got through that and came home. I don’t know if I could have done what you did.”

“You could have.” He told you, entirely truthful. “You’ve been raising a child by yourself for four years. Never doubt how strong you are.”

He wanted to deflect - eager to stop talking about himself now. But he was doing it with compliments this time. He knew that he could never make it up to you, but he would never stop with the flattery. He would never stop trying.

“God, Spencer. I missed you so much.” You said, your throat clenching around the words. Then, before you could stop it:

“You know I never stopped loving you, right?”

He swore that his heart stopped in that moment.

“I - I don’t think I could have stopped loving you if I tried.” He replied, his tongue fat and dry in his mouth, having to swallow tightly after he spoke.

You used your hands on his cheeks to pull him toward you, then, and like the inevitability of the earth rounding the sun as the years passed - Spencer came home to you, sighing into your mouth as he felt your lips in that perfect, beautiful kiss. He finally felt that tightness ease in his chest - maybe it was a feeling he had been waiting to pass for years, his heart locked up and tight with that love for you strangling him from the inside, clawing to get out with you not around for him to truly love you the way he needed to. With his son somewhere out there in the world, waiting to be loved by him.

Your lips were so smooth and perfect against his - and it wasn’t long before that sweet love turned aching, insistent, and passionate.

Spencer put his hands on your hips and scooted you back up onto the counter. You let your body naturally shift with the movements, letting yourself slowly fall into the trust of being touched by him again. You let out a moan into his mouth and embraced his tongue past your lips, one of your hands moving to tangle into his now much wilder hair. You loved the feeling of his voice vibrating a moan against you as you gave his roots a gentle tug.

Heat surged through your body as he stepped between your now wide open knees, pressing himself right up against you where you were sitting on the counter - he needed to get closer. He needed to feel you. His crotch pressed tightly against yours - causing a stirring of heat and wetness in your underwear matching him as he was just beginning to get hard.

He had missed you so much. And it had been so long for both of you - you had barely looked at other people since the break-up, and having the touch of a lost loving stirred something in your bodies that made you both so hungry.

Spencer pulled away from your lips and began kissing down your neck, eager to suck and lick and kiss and consume as much of your skin as possible. When he came across the chain of the neck sitting on your skin, he gave it a loving lick and hummed into your skin, and you moaned his name into the air.

“Spence, oh!”

And then-

Then there was a crash from somewhere else in the house. The sound of glass breaking.

You hadn’t set the alarm - because typically that was something you did before going to bed.

Someone was breaking into the house.

The killer was coming for you.

“Spencer!” You said his name with more urgency now as his head whipped up from the crook of your neck, looking around for the danger, not yet moving from between your legs as he assessed the situation.

There was a crash from your office as something was knocked over. The sound of someone stumbling as they climbed in through the broken window.

He grabbed one of the nearby kitchen knives from the block, quickly realizing that his gun was his bag by the front door - too far to run for.

“Go upstairs, get Sebastian, take him in your room and lock the door.” He told you, his voice as authoritative as you had ever heard it. He took his cellphone from his pocket and thrust it into your shaking hand. “Call JJ or any contact in this phone labeled BAU. Call until they pick up and tell them that we need back up here. No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody. Got it?”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Six - That's What You Get (Finale)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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sunkissed-zegras · 27 days

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hey! I think u should right a fic about the night ice and paige were in miami out partying (obviously including reader) but paige has a little too much fun, so reader and ice to take care of her. reader is also dating paige at this point they are just on the down low 🤫 anyways adapt on the story however u want i just think this would be super cute!!" or, paige wants to finally tell ice that you two are together.

─ word count | 1.2k

─ warnings | drunk!paige, mentions of being wasted af, emotional paige, confused af ice, scared y/n, ummm... confessions, idk what else

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

PAIGE STUMBLED FORWARD as you and Ice grabbed her arm, making sure she didn't fall.

You and Ice exchanged amused glances as you got Paige up to her feet, drunken giggles coming out of the blonde's mouth. She had one too many drinks tonight and now, you're not sure she'll remember tonight.

Paige's hand went up to grab your shoulder, holding on tightly. "Hey, you guys are the fucking best," Paige slurred, her words weaving together slightly. "I love you guys, have I ever told you guys?"

You chuckled, exchanging another glance with Ice. "We love you too, P," you replied, steadying her as she swayed. "I think it's time to call it a night, what do you think?"

"But we're out here in Miami," she slurred as she let out an amused chuckle at her own joke. "L-Looking for the hoochie daddies,"

"Yeah, it's time to go back to the hotel." Ice held in her laugh as she looped Paige's other arm around her shoulder. You carried their bags as you guided her through the crowd.

The cab drive back to the hotel was anything but peaceful, Paige almost puked five times and she kept talking about how much she cared about you guys and the team. When you finally made back to the hotel, Ice threw Paige on the bed with a groan.

With a weary sigh, Ice carefully helped Paige settle onto the bed, making sure she was lying down comfortably.

"You're lucky we love you, Paige," Ice said with a playful grin, shaking her head as she glanced back at you.

"Yeah, me too." Paige sighed as she glanced back at you with a grin. "C'mere,"

Your face felt warm with embarrassment as Ice gave you an amused look as Paige kept gazing at you expectantly. Oh shit, she wasn't about to air you two out, right? Well, drunk Paige was very unpredictable you slowly made your way over to where Paige lay on the bed, her gaze fixed on you with a playful glint in her eyes.

With a nervous chuckle, you took a hesitant step closer to Paige's side, unsure of what she had in mind. "What's up, Paige?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Paige's grin widened as she reached out to grab your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. "Just wanted you closer," she said softly, her words laced with drunken boldness. "You know I love you, right?"

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth flooding through you as you squeezed her hand gently. "Yeah, Paige. I know, I love you too."

"Damn, am I interrupting something?" Ice joked as her amused expression faded into a confused one. You and Paige exchanged glances as Paige laughed, pulling you closer.

Ice looked very confused as you shot Ice a slightly panicked look as you tried to figure out how to respond.

"Oh, no, nothing like that," you stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Just, you know, friends being close."

Paige sent you a glare as she sat up. "A friend? Are we really still doing this, Y/N?"

Ice looked slightly uncomfortable as she watched the interaction, sensing the tension in the air. "Um, I'm gonna go get us some water."

You shot Ice a grateful look, silently thanking her for the distraction, before turning your attention back to Paige. "Paige, I..." you began, searching for the right words to say.

But before you could continue, Paige let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. "I'm tired of pretending, Y/N," she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you."

Your heart skipped a beat at her confession, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "You're just drunk. Are you sure you wanna do this, now? On vacation, with Ice?"

But Paige shook her head, her expression determined as she reached out to take your hand. "No, I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she insisted, her eyes pleading with you to understand. "I love you, Y/N, and I don't want to hide it anymore."

You felt a lump form in your throat at her words, torn between the fear of what could happen if you gave in to your feelings and the overwhelming desire to be with her. "Paige, I..." you started, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words.

But Paige pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. "Please, just hear me out," she urged, her voice soft but determined. "I know this might be scary, but I can't keep pretending that I don't feel this way about you."

You looked into Paige's eyes as she sobered up, seeing the depth of emotion and vulnerability in them, and felt your resolve crumbling. "You're sure?" You whispered, your voice just above a whisper as Paige nodded.

As if on cue, Ice came back with three bottles of water and an awkward smile. She looked at you, noticing the proximity before handing you the bottle. You both mumbled a quick thank you before glancing at one another.

"So..." Ice began, her voice soft as she looked in between her close friends. "What's going on-"

"We're dating, Ice." Paige ripped the bandaid off quickly as your eyes widen in panic, shooting her a glare. "For like three months, I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Just three months?" Ice asked as she opened her water bottle casually, taking a sip. There was a moment of silence as you all just stared at each other, waiting for Ice to continue. "What?"

"That's all you're gonna say?" Your tone was slightly annoyed as Ice shrugged, sending Paige a grin.

Ice laughed as she shook her head, as Paige pulled you into her chest. "We've been known, Y/N. It's pretty obvious, trust me."

You blinked in surprise, feeling a mix of relief and disbelief wash over you. "Wait, you knew?" you asked, feeling a bit dumbfounded.

Ice chuckled, nodding as she took another sip of her water. "Yeah, it was kind of hard to miss," she admitted, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "But hey, I'm happy for you guys. You make a cute couple."

"That's all you're gonna say?" You repeated as Ice sent you a glare, Paige stifling her laugh.

"What do you want me to say? Oh my god, really! You guys are fucking, wow what a surprise." Ice exaggerated as you let out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. It was really that easy, huh?

You couldn't help but laugh at Ice's response, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at her easy acceptance. "I guess we were just expecting a bit more of a reaction," you admitted, still chuckling.

Ice rolled her eyes playfully, nudging you with her elbow. "Come on, you know me better than that," she teased, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm happy for you guys, really. You guys are adorable but I hope I don't become, a third wheel or something."

You grinned at Ice's playful remark, appreciating her lighthearted approach to the situation. "You could never be a third wheel. You're an essential part of this trio." you reassured her, nudging her back gently.

Paige nodded in agreement, looping her arm through Ice's. "Yeah, we're a package deal, remember?"

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#uconn women’s basketball #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #ice brady #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaaw #women's college basketball

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rebeltarot · 3 months

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YOUR UNIVERSE ➕ Who are you becoming now, and who are you meant to become?

"We can’t become what we need to be by remaining what we are."

[3 piles] ・ [3 decks] ・ [10 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, songs]

Hello friends! It's almost International Women's Day, and I am so excited to share this reading with you. We are focusing on who you are becoming now, and who you are meant to become! Are you planning on rebranding yourself? Definitely let me know. I hope you'll enjoy this reading as much as I did doing it. See you on the other side! 🤭🤭🤭

Painting: The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage - Edgar Degas (1874)

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 01 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

E, blank, E, I, 8th House, North Node, Cancer, "be fearless, change is good"

Song: BESIDE U - MONSTA X, Pitbull

CARDS

Tarot: 10 of cups, the wheel of fortune, 7 of pentacles, king of cups

Oracle: pioneer, the spymaster, deer, Martyr, the brawler, moose

WHO ARE YOU BECOMING NOW?

Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading. Currently, you are becoming someone with overflowing cups. You have much love and happiness to give and share with others. It feels like you are aligning with who you are and what brings you joy, which leads to fulfillment and a sense of belonging. I see harmony playing a huge role here. You are finding your balance and being at peace with yourself. This new version of you that you are growing into is collecting a lot of good karma. Things are moving and developing in your favor. You are in the midst of a transformative stage that leads to a lot of luck and positivity. You are going to become someone who welcomes change and strives to move with integrity. You are sharing your wealth, and you are swimming in your own passions and good fortune. It's so interesting to me because, essentially, this describes a creator, someone who is open to new experiences and open to trying and creating new things that others have not done before. It also reminds me of cycle breakers. This new version of you holds a lot of empathy and grace. You are learning and unlearning a lot right now, and I feel like you are going to be smart with the knowledge you attain. There is still a sense of distrust here, meaning that while, yes, you are growing into this person with an abundance of love to give and happiness to experience, you are not yet fully trusting that reality. Meaning that you are still in the beginning stages; it's new to you. You have figured out a lot of things, and positivity is already manifesting for you, but it feels like it has not been long enough and you have not collected enough positive evidence vs. the negative experiences. It feels fragile still. You are, however, being a lot more gentle with yourself. The person you are becoming right now wraps everything in love. Your first go-to move is to meet the situations you encounter with tenderness and compassion. You are healing right now with the power of love, and the person you are growing into can see the light and good in all things and situations. The reason is that you are finally seeing your self-worth, and you're acknowledging your grace. Beautiful.

WHO ARE YOU MEANT TO BECOME?

You are meant to be a seeker, someone who keeps searching for new ways and new opportunities. You are not meant to sit idle; instead, you are supposed to become a person who is continuously striving for new ways and solutions. A thinker and a pioneer. You are meant to dream and implement. To move past illusions, find multiple ways and solutions to problems and situations. You are meant to be a dreamer and an idealist. Someone wise and diplomatic. Holding a lot of compassion and being devoted to the good and beautiful things in life. You are meant to become a person who can balance the head and the heart. Being of service to yourself and others is your cause and purpose in life. You are meant to use your knowledge and creativity for that. You are meant to help and support those around you who are hurt by bandaging them up and guiding them towards empathy. Helping others confront themselves and their lack of compassion and grace for themselves and others. You are meant to let your head and mind reach to the stars, yet stay grounded on the earth. Listening to your inner knowing and your attained wisdom to guide others through their journey. You are meant to be a guide because you have learned a lot and know a lot.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 02 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

D, I, C, T, S, Aquarius, Venus, 6th House

Song: Out of luck - Tkay Maidza, Lolo Zouaï, Amber Mark

CARDS

Tarot: 7 of wands, the emperor, 6 of wands, 6 of cups

Oracle: hawk, athlete, the heir, sea turtle, advocate, the poet

WHO ARE YOU BECOMING NOW?

Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading. You are becoming a person with a lot of stamina, capable of persevering through challenges and competition. You can protect yourself; you are willing to work on yourself and do the difficult things if it means that it helps you progress and grow. You are not backing away from a challenge; instead, you are running towards what scares you. I see you becoming someone who is disciplined and who creates stability and success. You can rely on yourself, and you take charge and control over your life by putting in the action needed to move forward. Truly impressive. You are also becoming more observant; you are taking in the information you can collect, and you are opening up your vision to any signs around you, guiding you, and relaying a message to you. It's like you have gotten rid of the blinders that kept you from seeing, and now you are going through life with 20/20 vision. You can determine your priorities and focus on them by eliminating any distractions. You are being honest with yourself and working with who you are instead of against you. You are aware of your 'weaknesses'. Honestly, the work you are putting in right now is truly valuable and opens up a bright future for yourself. You are allowing yourself to succeed. The person you are becoming is not afraid anymore of success, and you are stepping out of your way, ascending to new heights. Whatever limits you might have had before, you are transcending them. You are developing your willpower and strength of spirit, which makes you honestly unstoppable. You are now seeing your unseen potential, and you are wearing that crown without any hesitation.

WHO ARE YOU MEANT TO BECOME?

You are meant to be someone who is in harmony, in alignment, and able to pivot when need be. The person you are meant to become is a winner; you are meant to experience success, win, and gain public recognition for your efforts and fame. You are meant to progress, grow, and move forward. The person you are growing into is confident in themselves; you are meant to walk with your shoulders straight and your head held high. You are destined to be someone! The fame aspect can be global or related to your industry or community, but either way, you are meant to be acknowledged. You are predestined to be an inspiration. I feel like this heavily relates to childhood dreams and innocent intentions. You are meant to be someone joyful, someone who looks back on your life with happiness. You are supposed to be someone who holds a lot of goodwill and can reach out their hand to others with positivity and appreciation. I see you being meant to be a protector. You are destined to master finding life's flow and to be in harmony with the rhythm of life to unfold your path. You are supposed to become a hard-working person who perseveres. Your mastery of yourself will protect you and lead to a lot of happiness and fulfillment. You are meant to inspire others to put compassion into action as well as be an advocate, someone who uses their public attention and recognition to channel it into growth. To advocate for important causes that allow humanity as a whole to move forward and transform. Through your connections and through your words, you are meant to lead with vulnerability and honesty. With the feather pen, a part of this pile is certainly meant to become writers or public speakers of some sort. Some might become poets or musicians, too.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 03 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

A, A, O, N, Aries, Mercury, 9th House

Song: is it new years yet? - Sabrina Carpenter

CARDS

Tarot: 9 of wands, 5 of wands, Knight of wands, 3 of cups

Oracle: dragonfly, mystic, the founder, owl, don Juan, the dancer

WHO ARE YOU BECOMING NOW?

Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading. You are currently becoming resilient. Nothing can stop you as you courageously persist through whatever challenges you are met with. You are mastering setting boundaries, and you are guarding yourself and your peace. I do feel like you are becoming someone who does not shy away from conflict or opposition. Instead, you are welcoming diversity and opposing opinions to strengthen your muscles. What's interesting in your pile is how magic plays a big role both in who you are becoming now and who you are meant to become. The owl and the dragonfly are both associated with that keyword. You are openly embracing transformation and change. And you are courageously letting go of the past, allowing the magic of nature that is in you to highlight your brilliance and your blessings. I also see you embracing the divine more intimately in your life; take this however it resonates for you. For some, this talks about religion; for others, it talks about spirituality; and for another portion, it relates to practices such as tarot, etc. Either way, you are growing closer to the divine and embracing your inner wisdom. I see you also building something valuable and stable. You are founding something and birthing something brand new to you that has not existed before. I see you laying sustainable and stable foundations and building yourself a community that will last. You are heavily investing in your "village.".

WHO ARE YOU MEANT TO BECOME?

Who you are meant to become is someone inspiring and energetic. Your future self is supposed to take inspired action and follow your intuition. You are meant to be impulsive and adventurous, spontaneous, and take on any challenge that presents itself to you and that you find interesting enough to face and engage in. I see you being meant to play an integral part in a community of people that you have built, creating new things together, brainstorming, and birthing something essential in union with other people. It could very well be a community of something. Either way, it's magical and relates to your inner vision and wisdom. You are meant to choose to see the truth and see through deception. You are destined to let the past go and make room for a better life, so you can experience the good life. The person you are meant to become is supposed to rise because magic and wisdom are your birthright. I also feel like you are meant to lean into your seductive qualities. You are charming and persuasive; own that. You are destined to be free and to dance to your beat. Self-expression and inner strength are really big factors in who you are meant to become. To show up authentically in a one-size-fits-all world takes a lot of courage and strength, and you are destined to do exactly that. Show your true self and follow your intuition; it will never lead you astray.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarot community #free tarot readings #tarot readers #blessings #tarot of tumblr #free tarot #pick an image #tarot readings #divination #witchblr #spiritual community #tarot reading #tarot #channeled messages

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abbyshands · 3 months

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abby drabbles for vday <3

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; hey, all, happy valentine’s :) i was originally gonna have a fic for this but i was only able to do a few drabbles today &&& i don’t like any of them but it’s fine. also, woeeefully i have carpal tunnel, so with that and me needing to focus more on speaking out on palestine, fics will be more inconsistent (dw btw i am very much fine, just need to rest my hands <3 [which i obv did not do when i wrote all of these so quickly!])

♡ INCLUDES: sub!cam girl!abby bench pressing w/a vibe between her legs, dom!rival prosecutor!abby fucking you in her office, sub!football abby x dom!nerdy!reader

P.S.; please keep in mind that palestine is very much still bleeding. please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don't stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking, demanding you to take the side that i'm on. free 🇵🇸, always.

LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help I places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; ib by this post! <3

♡ imagine cam girl!abby, 185 pound barbell in her veiny hands as she pumps the load up and down, muscles flexing under the pressure. her face is red, body slick with sweat as her figure caves. you’re looking at her from the end of the bench, poised between her legs as you watch her workout. you crank the setting of the vibrator up for a third time, feeling your own heat build up as you listen to her whine and whimper. “come on, baby. just a few more reps for me, you got it,” you coo, knowing how close she is, hands weakening as the pleasure bubbling up in her core battles to take control. her filming camera’s in your hands, the one she used to go live and make videos with on a daily basis. you pan it to the wet spot that’s visible on her gym shorts, the smirk on your lips widening as the view nearly makes you drool. “look at her. so pretty like this, such a desperate girl,” you whisper more to yourself than to abby, earning a whorish whine from her lips as she pushes the bar above her head again and again. “mmm, s’that feel good, baby?” you coo as you bring a finger up to rub her over her soaked bottoms. abby’s face scrunches as she throws you a bit of an attitude. “y- you know it does,” she nearly snapped at you, and you can’t help but laugh. “hear that? she’s getting bratty with me,” you say, making sure to zoom in on her shaking legs as you give her thigh a small slap, earning a yelp from abby. you know full well her fans are going to go wild for this video, perhaps even more than you. when abby finishes her reps, body too weak to go on, you prop the camera up beside yourselves and place your hands on the sides of abby’s thighs. “good girl. did so well for me, didn’t you?” you ask, the only other noise being the buzzing of the vibe and the sound of abby’s little whimpers. “y- yes, ma’am, i did. n- now please let me cum,” she begs, and you feel merciful. you crank the vibe to the highest setting, and apply more pressure to her pussy with your fingers. you thumb her clit in circles, and watch as abby’s abdomen begins to tense. you push her shorts out of the way for better access, and remove the vibe to pump your index and ring into her soaked pussy, fingering her like a fucking pro. “f- fuck, so close, please, don’t stop,” she whines, and it’s not long before you’ve got the cam girl drenching your fingers in her cum, hips bucking for both you and the camera as it captures every little second <3

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

♡ imagine rival prosecutor!abby, who you just won a huge case to, grabbing you by the wrist the second she could, and yanking you into her office. she was bending you over her desk at a rapid speed like she had so many times in the past, forcing you to take the seven inch strap that’s considerably a part of her at this point. “fucking whore. always fucking up my cases. let me show you how that, fuck,” she says as she thrust into you, deep, “fucking feels.” you only get to feel her when you make her lose a case, being the only way she can properly get her anger out. sometimes, you almost want to lose your cases on purpose. “well, maybe you should do your job better,” you challenge her, and, god, she does not like that. she grabs you by the neck as she pounds into you from behind, thick fingers digging marks into your skin. “don’t talk to me like that,” abby remarks as she pushes herself as deep inside you as she can possibly go. she’s so down and dirty with you, using your body like a toy, then discarding you until the next time she loses a case. “f- fuck, a- abby,” she’s got you stuttering soon enough, brain foggy with your own arousal. abby quickens her pace the second she can feel you getting closer to your high, chuckling. “yeah, you like that, huh? get so cockdrunk off this dick every time,” abby grunted. when your moans get too loud to the point where she thinks you’ll make the whole office hear, her large hand covers your lips, muffling those sweet, little noises. “shhh, shhh, baby. you’re my whore, mine alone. don’t want anyone else to hear those cute moans of yours,” she teases. soon enough, she’s got you soaking her cock in your cum, a whiny mewl of her name muffled by the hold she has on your lips. once you’re finished, she very briefly cleaned you up. but then, once she was done, negligence. “abby—“ you begin, ready to beg her for a little more of her attention. but she cuts you short. “none of that. you know this, sweetheart. i’ll fuck you when i lose.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; very much inspired by this :3

♡ imagine sub!football!abby (x nerdy!reader) winning the last game of her season. there’s an after party, of course there is, but the buff girl who’s dominant in every aspect of her life, almost, can’t resist spending some time with her girlfriend first. “yeah, honey. played so well for me, didn’t you?” you coo as abby grinds her pussy desperately into your body, your hands digging into her hips. abby’s gorgeous nipples are bouncing up and down before you, perfect, and you make sure to take one of them into your mouth whenever one’s close enough to your face. “mmm, f- fuck, i did, baby, i did,” she moans, voice needy as she thrusts her naked body into your own. the friction she feels from the denim material of your jeans drives her crazy, rubbing up on her clit in the best way possible. your glasses fog up each time you pull her down for a sloppy, wet kiss, tongue dancing with hers as she grinds her pussy into you, desperate. “such a good girl. that’s it, reward yourself, baby,” you encourage her as she goes on, rutting herself into you. she moans as your pants brush up on her clit, burying her face into your neck to bite it, stifling the whiny moans falling from her lips. your hands grab her ass, gripping it as she pushes herself against you as hard as she could. “f- fuck, i love you so much, love you so much,” abby lets out in a whiny moan, easily making you smile. when you’ve got her on the brink, you take one of her breasts into your mouth, tongue swirling skillfully around her nipple. you give her a few small slaps on the ass as she chases her high, cumming all over your jeans in the end. you smile as you cup her reddened cheek, kissing the tip of her nose as she panted out heavily above you. “there’s my football star.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fan fiction #tlou smut #tlou2 smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson imagine #tlou abby #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou abby x reader

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chiptrillino · 3 months

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Hi, I love your art sm! I have a question about your process; how do you get references for your art? Are you at the point where u don’t need them, or do u have a go to website? Or take photos yourself?

thank you! I explained my process a bit here in this ask LINK depending on the time and energy, i am pretty much at the point where i can figure out some poses by memory alone. but i need one first very crude sketch in order to like to have visuals about what i like to do? or how to pose the body. So: step 1. Crude sketch step 2. Redraw it properly (sometimes i can right away use the sketch for coloring) step 3. Proper line art for coloring (examples below)

(ID in ALT text)

i don't spend much time combing through the internet till i find the one pose i would like to draw now. i just start to doodle. see something i like. and then refine it. i look up images if i have trouble with some anatomy or i need some help with colors and pattern. but its then things like... "toothy smiles" "male torso with belly fat" "guy stretching nude" "long hair in water" "human skeleton with muscle" "underwater photoshoot" check out how it more or less works and then adapt it to the drawing i am working on. i have been drawing for over 15 years now. i have build up a bit of a visual library, and have reached the point that sometimes i see artworks and know which pinterest image was used as a reference because people stuck to only one photo of a model and basically redrew the original just with some refinement. nothing wrong with that just not something i do or at least avoid doing.

#chip!ask #chip!explais #chip!tutorial #not sure if this counts though...#zuko #ty lee #don't ask me for video recording i am awfully slow with these and my anexiety pumbels up into the sky #also i still have to figure out glace and nightshade but it takes forever to make tests with these....

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re-lmayer · 2 months

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i've found myself in a bad situation. the tl;dr is i have to move, but i can't afford to. i'm a disabled student and just do not have the funds required to rent a truck, hire movers, and cover deposits. so, i'm offering various services on my kofi, but if you don't need those you can also donate there or via paypal. my cashapp and venmo are both erinshelley91 if you'd like to donate on those platforms (i couldn't figure out how to link to those)

if you can't afford to commission me or to donate, reblogging this post and sharing my twitter thread is a free way to help me out and is so appreciated!

more context and stuff under the cut, i just don't want to make a long post on ppl's dashboards

my landlord has been cheating on his husband, and their relationship is rocky. he also has a massive spending addiction according to his husband. his spending addiction is making him not want to perform the actual duties of a landlord, because investment costs are cutting into his shopping spree funds

ex, he is illegally not fixing a leak in the shower of the upstairs tenants, and claims the costs are more than their rent. he told them to "figure it out, or get the fuck out." (verbatim.) he also told me it would be cheaper for him to not have tenants at all bc his utility bills would be smaller. he then left it to ME to inform another tenant to leave (then gaslit me and denied it in front of his husband when his husband questioned it)

in his words, we have 90 days to leave. i am disabled and a full time student and have been living on my fafsa returns, and the last job i had made one of my disabilities worse to the point i've had intensive physical therapy (several hours several times a week) and am likely going to have to undergo surgery

i'm also mi/nd, so even on a good day i'm not very well equipped to handle things, and the recent stress has also caused my therapist to see me several times a week in lieu of institutionalization

all that said, i'm not in a good spot physically or mentally, hence the best i can do right now is offer some of my skills on kofi

i'm currently working with my state's vocational rehab to try and find a suitable job until i can get my degree, but even then i simply would not be able to afford the costs of a sudden move in the timeframe i've got to work with

UPDATE MARCH 25, 2024: i want to invest in a scooter to do gig work like doordash. this will let me work at my own pace, and earn towards the move myself, then i'll have some more independence to continue doing that after as well

they require 50cc or under, which means i could get a scooter for under $1,000. i'd also need to cover fees to renew my license (i let it lapse since i haven't had a vehicle), get a helmet, and get insurance (roughly $100 annually)

i also made some amazon wishlists for folks who would like to help but prefer to know exactly where their money's going. i have one for housewarming stuff here, and one for necessities here

update as of april 5: my cat peed on my bed, and since it's a memory foam mattress it soaked all the way through and ruined it

update as of april 7: she did it again. this time there's blood in it

update as of april 14: i still haven't been able to take her to the vet, but i've been trying to do at home remedies

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moonstruckme · 9 months

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not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞

Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33

cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it.

So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups.

“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.”

You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.

“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”

“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage.

“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”

James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.”

You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach.

Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you.

True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.”

Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy.

“I know,” you say.

Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary.

“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble.

You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.”

“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?”

It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.”

Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.”

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