#I know I didn’t get everything but it’s not my fault

[pathologicalreid]

merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.

in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol

To: xreader@gmail.com From: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com Subject: Merry Christmas

Hey,

Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.

Good afternoon,

Much too formal.

Hello,

Too rigid.

Darling,

I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.

Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.  

Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.

That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.

You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.

There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?

I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.

It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.

Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.

Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.

I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.

I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.

Merry Christmas,

Spencer

He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.

To: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com From: mailer-daemon@googlemail.com Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)

Message blocked.

Your message to xreader@gmail.com has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.

[itsthecline]

WONDERING WHY

0.0 TWO HANGOUTS WORTH

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ after your parents requested you to bring a date to midsummers , you can only think of one boy you know enough to ask. none other than jj maybank.

word count 2k

warnings christian!reader , kook!reader , and like one (?) sexual innuendo

next chapter

a/n this is a new series i’ll be coming out with now that i’m back from my hiatus:) this is just the prologue before everything gets going , but there will also be little flashbacks thrown in here and there!!!

THE WRECK. a local establishment in the outer banks that was owned by mike and anna carrera right across from the island’s surf shop. the place everyone in kildare went for the best sea food one’s heart could dream up. it was also a regular hangout for kiara , mike and anna’s daughter , and her friends— the pogues.

you didn’t know all of them too well , growing up on figure eight rather the cut. you had kind of known sarah from school , but you really knew jj maybank. he was one of kiara’s friends— a reckless kleptomaniac that grew up only ever knowing petty crimes thanks to his jailbird of a father. it wasn’t entirely his fault he held the reputation he did— you saw that.

you had met a different jj however. you knew jackson jay maybank , the cute boy that came to church with his mom every sunday , the boy you would run around with outside the church after services whenever your moms got to talking. he was your first kiss , and first boyfriend too— in the third grade.

jj maybank was the reason you were even at the wreck. you were actively seeking him out , peering around the restaurant when you stepped inside. you were so distracted by finding him , you ran into someone , knocking them off balance and causing them to drop a tray of food.

“oh , my gosh! i’m so sorry!” you apologized , bending over to help the girl pick things off the ground. you looked up at her and immediately flushed in embarrassment. of course , you would run into jj’s friend. you had finally convinced yourself to just go ask jj what you wanted , and you mess it up before even getting the chance.

“it’s fine,” kiara assured you with a soft laugh , picking scraps of lettuce of the floor and tossing it back on the tray, “at least it wasn’t oysters,” she shivered , remembering a time that did happen.

you both finished cleaning up the mess the best you could before standing up. “gosh , i’m so sorry again , kiara,” you sighed , fishing your wallet from your purse, “let me pay for ‘em.”

“no , no! don’t worry about it,” she quickly replied , pushing your hand of cash back to you, “it was just for my friends. they’ll be happier with fries anyway,” she explained to you , setting the tray down, “were you coming here to get something to eat? i can ring you up.” she moved behind the counter , and you followed despite not coming here for the food. though , the way you could smell everything mike was whipping up in the back made you think twice about it.

“no , actually i was looking for jj?” you admitted , scanning the room again , missing the way kiara’s eyebrows shot up.

“oh?”

“yeah , i just have something i wanted to ask him,” you explained with a short , polite smile. you didn’t exactly want to tell kiara all about your plans , so you kept your words to a minimum.

“okay,” the girl nodded , dusting her hands off, “they’re all out back , so i can take you to them,” she smiled , intrigued enough to want to see how this would all pan out. you nodded , accepting the courtesy before following after her. she weaved through tables , waving at a couple of guests , before pushing out to the patio.

the music changed , switching from a smoother tune to a swingier set. it was obvious someone other than mike or anna had control of the radio. your guess was kiara or maybe sarah.

she rounded the corner , spotting her friends chatting animatedly about something that had happened earlier in their chaotic day. kiara whistled once , catching their attention. “jayj , this nice girl was wanting to talk to you about something,” she announced , pointing over her shoulder at you before sitting down next to cleo and taking a sip from her smoothie.

you awkwardly waved at everyone , grateful for sarah’s familiar smile. jj perked up , not expecting to see you standing there. gosh , he hadn’t seen you in maybe three years. you never frequented the same spots as him , and he obviously didn’t hangout where you did.

somehow you looked the same— minus the baby fat. and he could , quite accurately , guess two bra sizes more than the last time you’d been face to face. you had the same style as before. girlier than all heck and not daring to show off too much. today , you settled on a simple , white skirt and a top in the sweetest shade of yellow. jj couldn’t help the way his eyes dragged down your legs , only being able to see a little snippet of them above your kitten heels. you looked just as cute as the day he’d met you. adorable.

“y/n/n y/l/n , what can i do for ya?” he chirped , pushing himself up from the wooden picnic table and marching over to you.

your hands started sweating when you realized there would suddenly be an audience for this all. “um— may i speak to you in private? please?” you asked , gripping at your skirt to wipe the sweat from your palms. your eyes adverted back to his friends— the infamous treasure hunters.

they had always intimidated you. not that they did it on purpose. no , they were all very kind during your brief and few interactions. it was more of the fact that they had lived so much ; they were so much more than regular nineteen year olds on the island. far more than you.

jj looked over his shoulder , noticing all of his friends eagerly watching and waiting. “sure , angel , we can go talk,” he nodded , gesturing for you to turn. you did , feeling his hand ghost over the small of your back. he led you towards the parking lot , stopping once you hit the gravel. “so what’s up? haven’t seen you in awhile,” he spoke casually , twirling the toothpick in between his teeth.

“midsummers is in two weeks , and my father would really like if i brought a date,” you began , straightening your back to try and come off more confident than you were. something about jj always made you want to shrivel up and hide. it was probably that smirk he was giving you. “i don’t really talk to any boys at all , and so i was hoping maybe you come with me? seeing as we know each other?” you concluded on a more sour note. you hated hearing the way your voice went up at the ends of your statements , obliterating any chances you had at seeming collected. you stared at jj , wincing almost in preparation for his rejection. it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you couldn’t get a date for midsummers , but it would be the worst thing if jj maybank laughed in your face again after all these years.

and then he chuckled , and you wanted to run away and die. you knew you shouldn’t have come here. you knew it would be a no.

“yeah , i’ll do it,” he agreed , getting you to straighten your posture again, “but i’m gonna need somethin’ out of it , ya know?”

“really? yeah! i could , like , pay you. and i’d obviously handle all of the coordination things and such,” you rushed out , ecstatic he actually said yes. you had been so worried about rejection that you hadn’t actually prepared yourself for a positive outcome.

“i mean , yeah , money’s nice , angel,” jj nodded , leaning up against one of the patron’s cars, “what about a date?” he suggested after a few moments of making you wait.

“a date?” you choked out , taking the slightest step back. the rocks beneath your feet shifted , giving away the movement. “i don’t date,” you stated , knowing he knew that about you already. everyone on the island knew.

“what? not even for old time’s sake?” jj tried , flopping his arms to his sides, “i mean , technically we’re already dating,” he defended himself , moving his finger between the two of you, “never really broke up , so…”

“jj , i’m sure our relationship from the third grade has reached its statute of limitations by now,” you huffed , crossing your arms, “besides , you laughing in my face and then continuing to ignore my existence as soon as we got to high school made sure i got the message,” you added , sounding far brattier than you ever had before.

the blonde was taken aback , not expecting you to ever throw something in someone’s face. he didn’t even realize that was something you remembered could be thrown in his face. “yeah , that was mean,” he admitted, “but this date could clear things up. you deserve to get taken out. maybe you’ll let me see your wild side,” he winked , causing your face to crinkle up.

“you’re dirty minded,” you pouted , going to turn away and forget this altercation ever even happened.

“wait!” jj moved forward , grabbing your elbow to stop you from leaving, “i didn’t mean it like that.” you tilted your head , arms still crossed. “okay , maybe i did , but it was a joke!” jj laughed , taking hold of you by the arms and shaking you a little.

you bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. “i don’t date , jj. i just need a date. for midsummers,” you explained to him with a shrug.

it’s not that the idea of a date didn’t spark something alive inside of you. it was that it did. you didn’t want to reignite the flame you once held for jj so close to your heart. he was your first crush , and that meant something to you. even at the ripe age of eight years old. he was one of your first friends , and he left you behind. that wasn’t something easy to forget. you had healed from it , sure , but you knew yourself enough not to reopen the old wound.

“then let’s not call it a date,” jj decided with a firm nod, “we’ll… we’ll call it a hangout. you tag along with me for a day , get a taste of the pogue life. then i’ll go to the kookfest with ya.”

“a hangout?” you repeated suspiciously, “and what activities would this hangout include?”

jj let out a short breath of air , like he was coming up with the first thing that came to mind. “i don’t know? petty crime , doing drugs , drinking beers? driving on my sick bike all the while? that sound fun?”

you let out a laugh , covering your smile as you did. “sounds like an ideal hangout with the jj maybank,” you agreed with a nod.

“yeah? that’s only the first half of the day,” he continued , chuckling along with you. he could almost feel himself slipping back to a younger version of himself. back when you would hang out while your mom’s caught up after their weeks. with how his life panned out , it was easy to forget that you two had once been close friends. it felt like a life time ago. gosh , maybe even eight.

you took another step back , tapping jj’s chest with a smile. “you have yourself a deal , maybank. i’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him , digging out your keys. your bmw wasn’t waiting too far from you.

“tomorrow?” jj asked , not too sure what you could have planned with midsummers two weeks out. anything could happen in two weeks. “what rush are you in , princess?”

you stopped in your tracks , jaw agape. “jj! you don’t just put on a suit and go to midsummers. there’s things that need to be done! there’s fittings , and luncheons , and everything in between,” you explained , not completely shocked he didn’t know , but still annoyed you had to spell it out.

“wait , wait , wait—“ jj chuckled , shaking his head, “what-cheons?”

“oh , my goodness,” you sighed , pulling out your phone, “give me your number. i’ll text you everything that needs to happen in the next two weeks.”

jj took your phone , typing in his information. “i think i should be compensated with two hangouts then,” he bargained , shooting himself a text so he would have your number too.

“you are such a pain. fine,” you quickly agreed , taking back your phone, “ten a.m!” you pointed at him , moving to your car.

“jesus , woman! you’re killing me!” jj gasped , wiping a hand down his face like he was under serious duress.

“my house!” you added with a smile , getting in your car and starting her up. you waved at him through the mirror before driving away. maybe it was a good thing you convinced yourself to ask him. it’d be a nostalgic two weeks , but at least it would be fun. that much you knew.

pulling out the parking lot , you got a text message. you braked , checking to see if it was your mother , but instead saw a text from jj.

daddy j💦

see you tomorrow princess

[lov3notts]

Theodore Nott x Reader where they are doing 7 minutes in heaven? But instead it's hell. Love you <3

reopened wounds

theodore nott x reader

Summary: the request up above. You and Theo are Ex's, being stuck in a small space, reopened wounds from your difficult relationship with him

warning: minor heartbreak

a/n: new title , thank you for the request anon!!!:)) also I will be doing anon emojis soon!

The game is supposed to be fun, but the moment the bottle stops spinning, you know this is going to be anything but. It lands on Theo, and a wave of dread washes over you.

Your ex. Of all the people in the room, it had to be him. Your heart sinks, but you force yourself to stand up, the weight of all the eyes on you making it harder to breathe.

Theo doesn’t even look at you as you both head to the small, suffocating closet. The door clicks shut, and there’s an instant, heavy silence between you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Theo mutters, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space. His shoulder brushes yours, and you can feel the tension between you rise like smoke.

“Nice to see you too,” you snap, your voice tight.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh and shifts again, knocking into you. “This is ridiculous. We can’t even move in here.”

“Gee, you think?” you snap back, the words almost escaping before you can stop them. The anger from your past with him surges unexpectedly, and your chest tightens. “It’s not like I wanted to be stuck in here with you, but here we are.”

Theo’s eyes flash with irritation. “You think I wanted this too? You’re the one who spun the bottle.” He shifts awkwardly, trying to make room for himself but only making things worse. His elbow jabs into your side, and you flinch.

“You could at least be a little more careful,” you mutter, your voice strained.

“I am careful! You’re the one moving around every time I try to do something. Just stop fidgeting, alright?”

“Stop blaming me for your mess,” you snap, trying to push him away, but there's no space. “You can’t even stay still for five seconds without knocking into me.”

Theo groans in frustration. “God, you’re impossible!” His voice is low but full of venom, and for a moment, you’re reminded of how it felt when you two fought like this before. How everything escalated, how he always made you feel like you were the one overreacting. You take a breath, pushing that thought away. Now’s not the time.

“Don’t start,” you warn, your voice shaky but cold. "Not in here."

“Not in here?” Theo sneers, and suddenly there’s a sharp edge to his voice. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. You gave that up when you broke up with me.”

The words hit you like a slap. For a second, you can’t breathe, the weight of that old wound opening up again. His words are like salt on an old, raw scar. You had tried so hard to forget that night—the way everything fell apart between you two—but hearing him say it out loud makes it all feel fresh again.

“I didn’t—” you start, your voice cracking, but you stop yourself. You had your reasons for ending things, but now isn’t the time to rehash it. “That’s not what this is about.”

Theo scoffs, his face contorted with frustration. “Then what is it about, huh? You act like we’re fine, like this isn’t killing you inside. You think I’m enjoying this? Being stuck in a closet with you?”

“Then why don’t you leave?” you hiss. “If it’s so bad, why don’t you just go?”

“Maybe I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the bitterness in it is unmistakable. He shoves his hand through his hair, then steps on your foot.

“Great,” you snap, your patience finally running out. “You’re making it worse.”

“Me? You’re the one overreacting,” Theo grumbles, stepping back only to bump into you again.

“I am not overreacting,” you retort. "You’re the one acting like this whole thing is a tragedy. But you know what? It’s not my fault we’re here. It’s your fault for—”

“For what? For loving you?!” Theo cuts you off, his voice cracking with old pain, the raw emotion surfacing despite his attempts to hide it.

"And for some reason loving me involved you constantly flirting with other girls? always canceling dates? only coming to me when you were hurt but never when I was? that wasn't love Theo. I was just convenient for you."

The words hang between you, thick and suffocating. You can feel your pulse in your throat as your chest tightens. your anger, your hurt—it all comes rushing back. All the feelings you thought you buried. All the love, the heartbreak, the why behind everything that happened.

Theo takes a shaky breath, but before he can respond, the buzzer goes off, cutting the tension like a knife.

You both stumble out of the closet, not looking at each other, your hearts pounding in your chests. Your friends are watching, but all you can hear is the echo of Theo’s words. You’re both pretending it’s over, but the damage is done, and the old wounds between you two are raw and open again.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

tag list: @juliet-017 @shityoudidntaskfor

[insidekatmind]

Red card~ Vinicius jr

Wearning: +18,smut

It was a quiet Sunday evening, and you were comfortably sitting on the living room couch. The Real Madrid match had just started, and as always, your heart raced as you watched Vinícius Jr. play. Your relationship with him was special, a love that had almost happened by chance but had grown intense and deep. He called you his "lucky star," but that evening, it seemed like luck wasn’t on his side.

"Go, Vini, show them who you are!" you whispered with a smile, sipping a cup of hot tea. Your eyes followed every movement he made on the field, as he dribbled past opponents with his usual elegance. You were used to seeing him face everything with a smile, but tonight, something felt different: there was a palpable tension.

45th minute.

The referee blew the whistle. A foul. Vinícius, usually calm, approached the referee with a furrowed brow. You couldn’t hear their words, but the images were clear. An opponent had provoked him, and Vinícius was trying to defend himself. Then it happened: the red card.

You were left breathless.

"No, no, it’s not possible!" you screamed, placing your cup on the table with a thud. You jumped to your feet, your heart racing. You watched in disbelief as Vinícius left the field, shaking his head. The referee seemed unwavering, and the camera lingered on the dark, furious face of your boyfriend.

An hour later.

The door to the house opened with a snap, and Vinícius stormed in. His gym bag flew to the floor, and he ran a hand through his hair, visibly shaken. He didn’t even look at you.

"You saw it, right?" he murmured, approaching you. You gently looked at him and embraced him. "Love," you whispered, hoping to ease his tension.

He was mad but felt better when you grabbed him to hug, making him sit next to you on the couch.

Vinicius puts his arm around you and rests his head on your shoulder."You’re not mad at me are you?" he says quietly, in a weak tone

"No, love, you are and will always be my champion," you whispered softly to him.

He smiles when you call him champion, it’s one of his favourite nicknames you had for him. He nuzzled in your neck, his hand resting on your leg and squeezing it softly

"Even when I act like a dickhead and get sent off again?" sentendo le sue parole sorridi.

"Especially when you become a dickhead,it's hot," you whispered.

He smile.His hand began to slide up slowly on your leg, just teasing."You still think I’m hot when I get mad?" he asks, teasing your neck with small kisses. You groan and nod.

He smirked, hearing you moan he began sucking on your neck, wanting to leave a mark

"Prove it to me then…” he mumbled against your neck, his hand slipping further up your leg.

You smile and kneel down, lowering his trousers and boxers and then pumping his cock a little before taking it in my mouth.

He grabs your hair gently with a hand."Holy fu-ck…“ he moans when he feels your mouth on his tip. You start to swirl your tongue around his big cock and then take it all in your mouth.

Vinicius raised his hips and fucked your mouth and you were moaning as you started to tease his balls with your hands and continued sucking him with more passion. He groans and comes down your throat.

When he makes you rise, he sighs happily and you kiss him.He returns the kiss with even more love, his hand caressing your cheek as they make out. He pulls you closer, until your body is pressed against his, and his leg goes in between yours, keeping you even closer to him.

“Mm… you know, I wouldn’t have been sent off in that game if you weren’t on my mind the entire time…“ he whispers in your ear.

You laugh as you watch him."So now it’s my fault?"

He chuckles, rolling over so he’s on top of you. He looks into your eyes, with a smirk on his lips.”Exactly… it’s your fault, you were being distracting in my mind the whole game…“

I smile and bite my lip. "What were you thinking?" Taming his muscular shoulders.

He moans lowly when you caress his shoulders, his body slightly shudders under your touch.“Do you want me to tell you or show you?”.he replies in a seductive tone, as his hands begin to wander up and down your body, caressing your curves.

"Show me" You say whispering.

He grins and kisses down your neck, occasionally leaving marks on it. His hands keep feeling up your body, caressing it lovingly. As he’s still busy with your neck, his knee slips gently between your legs, slightly rubbing against you.

Feeling the pressure on your pussy groan and you start rubbing yourself on it moaning.

He moans as you rub against his knee, his lips still attacking your neck with kisses.“Mmm you’re just impatient aren’t you…?“he mutters against your skin, his hand roaming down your body and caressing closer to your inner thigh.

"It’s not my fault I have such a sexy boyfriend" you whisper with a mischievous smile.

He chuckles at your comment, lifting his head up to look down at you while still letting his hand gently caress your thigh.“Oh you’re gonna flatter me like this? I might just have to get an even bigger ego…” he grins a little, his hand starting to get closer and closer to your centre.

You kiss him and groan in his mouth feeling the movements of his leg where you needed it. "It’s so beautiful Vini"groan once again.

He kisses you back, his hands going to your waist to grip on it softly. His knee is rubbing up against you still, his body starting to grind down and slightly rub himself against you as well.“Mmm, you like it that much, princesa?” he mutters, the vibrations of his voice sending more pleasure through you.

You moan madly for his Spanish and murmur a little 'yes.'

He moans a bit himself at the sound of your voice, the sound sending even more sensations through him. His knee continues its pace, the friction of him rubbing against you making him want you more. He leans in to your ear and whispers.“Dios mío… te quiero.” say Vinícius.

"Vini please"you have murmured. He growls lowly again, the sound of you begging making him feel even more aroused.

His knee keeps rubbing against you, while his lips go back to attacking your neck, leaving marks all over it. “What do you need, mi vida?“

"I want you inside me, please" you whine, you desperately clung to Vinícius.

He moans when you tell him, his knee slowly slipping away from you. He kisses all over your neck and down to your chest.“You’re begging for me that badly, cariño?“

His hands start caressing your thighs again, slowly spreading them apart for him.

Groan and spread your legs as much as you can. He groans at the sight of you so open and eager for him. His hands go to your waist, holding on to you while he grinds against you slowly, wanting to tease you a bit.

“Mmm… you want it that badly, don’t you, amor?“ he whispers you making you whine.

"Love please don’t tease me" you whine as you raise my hips wanting more.

He smirks, seeing you wriggling around and trying to get more with your hips. His grip on your waist is strong so you don’t move too much.“You’re being impatient again… I thought I said I’ll be making you feel good all night long…” he mutters against your chest, his lips leaving marks on it as one of his hands move down between you.

Groan feeling le sue parole and kiss him. He kissed you back passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth as you feel his hand rub against your entrance slowly. At the same time, his hip grinded against you, letting you feel how hard he’s becoming. “Mmm you drive me crazy, cariño…“

I moan wanting he inside me. "Baby come into me please fill me" you cry.

He grunts when you beg and he can’t take it anymore. He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes.“You’re gonna be the death of me one day…“

Then, you feel him slowly entering you. His grip on your waist tightens as he e tra tutto in te e gemi sentendo il suo grosso cazzo riempirti.

"Always so close to me, child" grunts Vinícius and you whine raising your hips towards him.

In the room you heard only the sound of your skin meeting and your groans and his grunts.

His impulses increased and you were moaning, managing to concentrate only on the pleasure that Vinícius was giving you.

"Vini" you groans scratching his back.

He groans lowly feeling how tight you get around him, and his hands grab on to you more intensely, wanting to hold you as close to him as possible. His lips are on your neck again, leaving more marks on the skin while his hip start pounding in you faster.“Mmm, say my name… say it again…“ he mutters against your ear, his voice is slightly hoarse from how intense his breathing got.

Every time you groaned his name increased the push making you groan louder.

He moans against your ear when he hears his name coming from your lips again and he starts biting and sucking on your neck again, leaving more marks all over it.“Mmm good girl… only say my name from now on, say it loudly and tell me how good I feel…“ he mutters in your ear, as his hip start moving faster and faster.

"It’s so beautiful" you groan, squeezing even more on him.

He grunts at your words, hearing how good he makes you feel was driving him crazy and making him go even faster.“Mmm you’re so tight mi vida…. Do I feel good?”he mutters, his lips are on your neck again, his teeth gently leaving even more love bites.

"Yes, Yes, Yes" You cried when you felt your g-spot hit.

He moans loudly again when you tighten around him even more, his hand grabbing your hip and pulling you closer so he can go even deeper.

“Mmm that’s it… feels good, doesn’t it?” he mutters in your ear, his breathing getting even more intense as he hammered deeper and deeper into you.

You were so taken by the pleasure that you groaned only not being able to say a concrete word. He chuckles at how you’ve become a moaning mess and is now unable to speak after he keeps ramming into you, his grip on your waist gets even tighter, holding you close.

“Mmm you’re so cute like this, amor… all lost in pleasure you can’t even speak" He teased you and you whined.

Two more pushes and you came and you squeezed his cock so hard that he came too.

He chuckles and pecks your lips, as he rolls off of you and lays down next to you. He’s slightly sweaty and his breathing is still a bit heavy from how intense that was. “You’re all mine…”he mutters, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you close to him, your body pressed snuggly against his.

He burrows his face in the crook of your neck and snuggled against you, smiling blissfully.

You smile nodding and cuddle to him feeling satisfied.He smiles more as you bury yourself in his chest and soon fall asleep.

He looks at you for a moment and can’t help but think how adorable you look when asleep. Then, he pulls the covers up and covers both of you with it, before gently petting your hair. He continues to hold you close to him and soon, he falls asleep as well.

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [iv]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Tara finally finds the courage to open up and seek help.

word count: 4610

warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, angst

a/n: guys I lied this is NOT the last part. I realized how much I have to write lol but the angst is over, the next part should be just fluff and tara's recovery. this is the longest I wrote so far lol so I hope its not too draggy

part [i] | part [ii] | part [iii]

Tara felt her phone buzz multiple times in a minute. It took her a moment to gain the courage and look at her notifications. 5 missed calls and missed texts from Amber herself. She felt a shiver run down her spine, not sure if it was from the chilly breeze or her fear of Amber coming to get her. Her fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond or power off the phone and ignore the reality of her situation.

Amber

Tara, where are you?

I told you to meet me behind the bleachers.

You just can’t listen, can you??? 

(Missed call from Amber)

Answer your damn phone.

Seriously? Was this about that day? I barely touched you, it was a joke. Don’t be so dramatic

You know I only do these things because you push me. If you didn’t act like this, I wouldn’t have to.

Just get here.Now. 

Tara felt her chest tighten after reading the texts, afraid of what could happen to her, her consequences. “You deserved it anyways,” was what Amber would say to her after she got hurt. At first, Tara had fought against those words, clinging to the belief that she was worth more, that she wasn’t the problem. But over time, the constant barrage of blame and cutting remarks chipped away at her resolve. Amber’s voice had become a whisper in her mind, louder than her own, until one day Tara caught herself nodding in agreement. Maybe she did deserve it. Maybe everything that happened was her fault.

Her breathing grew shallow as the weight of the messages and memories bore down on her. Her phone slipped from her trembling hand, landing on the floor with a soft thud, but she barely noticed. Her chest heaved as panic clawed its way through her, each breath feeling harder than the last. Her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the cruel echoes of Amber’s voice in her head. She clutched her knees, trying to ground herself, but her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably. What if she’s right? What if I deserve everything coming my way? The questions suffocated her, and she felt like she was drowning in her own mind, unable to surface.

Her breath hitched when a familiar face entered her blurry field of vision, concern etched deeply in your furrowed brows. You raised a hand slowly, your movements deliberate and gentle, pausing as if asking for silent permission. When she gave a weak, trembling nod, you knelt down and rested your hand over hers, the warmth grounding her in the chaos of her spiraling thoughts. Your voice followed, soft and steady, cutting through the haze as you spoke words of comfort and reassurance.

“Tara, hey. Look at me. I’m here, okay? You’re safe now. Take a deep breath with me. Let’s do it together—breathe in…and out. Nice and slow. Just like that.” Tara listened to your instructions, slowly gaining back her bearings before tearing up again, overwhelmed by her feelings.

“I’m sorry—I’m such a burden—“ “Hey, I want none of that right now, okay? You’re not alone in this. Whatever’s happening, we’ll handle it together. You’re stronger than this—always have been. It will pass, I promise.” 

It took Tara a while to piece together what happened and where she was. She just had a panic attack. You were there. The softness of your bed beneath her and the faint scent of your room finally grounded her. She blinked a few times, her gaze settling on the familiar surroundings, and the realization hit—she was safe.

You sat beside her, your voice calm as you spoke. “I texted Chad and Mindy to come over,” you said gently. “I thought having some company might help. They’re on their way now.”

Tara nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. The thought of familiar faces brought a small flicker of relief amidst the storm swirling inside her.

-

As soon as the doorbell rang, you hurried to open it. Mindy wasted no time, wrapping you in a tight hug before you could say a word. Her embrace was warm and reassuring, a silent way of saying, We’re here for you. The moment she stepped back, Chad pulled you into his own firm hug, his hand patting your back in solidarity. Their presence immediately lightened the air, filling the space with a sense of comfort and support.

“We won, by the way. There was a party after, but it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Mindy commented, slightly smug about how she scored the winning goal. You’ve never doubted her once; you knew she could do it. 

If Tara was being honest, she was afraid to meet the twins—afraid that she would be posed as the bad friend that avoided them, that she was weak and fragile. The thought of their disappointment, the way they might look at her with concern or pity, sent a wave of anxiety through her. It felt easier to stay away, to hide, than to face the questions and the judgments she imagined they’d have.

Tara took a deep breath, steeling herself as Mindy and Chad walked into the room. The moment Mindy stepped forward, she pulled Tara into a tight, almost desperate hug. Tara froze for a second, then allowed herself to melt into the embrace, feeling the warmth and safety that came with it. Mindy’s voice was soft but firm when she pulled away.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tara. We’re here,” she said, her tone full of concern.

Chad, a few steps behind, offered a reassuring smile before pulling her into his own hug, his hand gently patting her back. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady. Tara nodded, the overwhelming weight of her anxiety not quite lifting, but at least softened by the comfort of their presence.

As they settled around her, Tara felt an unexpected wave of guilt. If she were being honest, she was afraid of meeting them again—afraid that they would see her as the bad friend who had avoided them, that they would view her as weak and fragile. The thought of disappointing them, of facing their concern or pity, made her stomach turn. It felt easier to stay hidden, to avoid the inevitable questions they would ask about where she had been, why she’d pulled away. But now, as she sat between them, she realized that the fear of their judgment was nothing compared to the warmth of their unwavering support.

Tara took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she finally began to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of the words she’d kept locked inside for so long. She glanced at Mindy and Chad, their faces filled with concern and unwavering support, and it made her feel a little less alone. She told everyone in the room how she started dating Amber; and how things went downhill. By the time Tara ended, she was sobbing uncontrollably, your arms wrapped around her to calm her down. She looked at Mindy and Chad, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve come to you sooner.” Tara said tears still streaming down her face, but her voice stronger than before.

Mindy’s expression softened as Tara spoke, her eyes filled with both sadness and empathy. “Tara, you don’t deserve any of that,” Mindy said, her voice gentle but firm.

“None of it was your fault. Amber had no right to treat you that way, no matter what she said,” Mindy said, her words steady and filled with conviction. “You’re not broken, you’re strong. You’re still here, and you’re fighting. That’s what matters.” Mindy reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

Chad nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Mindy’s right. You don’t have to face it alone, you have us.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Tara, you should think about reporting this. What happened to you wasn’t just a mistake—it was abuse. And abuse needs to be taken seriously.”

“I know it’s scary, and I know you’re probably thinking about what Amber might do or say, but we’re here for you, every step of the way. Reporting this to the police isn’t just about getting her in trouble—it’s about protecting yourself and making sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. You’re not alone in this. We’ll be with you, no matter what you decide.” You added, gently rubbing your hand along her arms, making her relaxed.

Tara sat in silence for a moment, her mind racing with the idea of taking that step. She had never imagined herself going to the police, but now, with Mindy, Chad, and you by her side, it didn’t feel quite as impossible. It was terrifying, but maybe it was the first step toward finally finding peace.

-

A few days later, Tara found herself sitting in a quiet room at the local police station, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at the paper in front of her. She had made the decision—she was reporting the abuse. The officer sitting across from her was kind, patient, but Tara could still feel the weight of every word she spoke. She told them everything. About Amber’s manipulation, the slaps, the pushing, the hurtful words. She didn’t leave anything out, though every sentence felt like it ripped open a wound she’d tried to bury for so long. She even included photos of her bruises she would take pictures of throughout the relationship. The officer appreciated it, it adds more evidence even when there’s a big yellowish blotch on her face that didn’t need any more explaining.

When the officer assured her that her report would be taken seriously, Tara couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of relief, even though fear still lingered in her chest. She had done the right thing. She hoped. But as Tara walked out of the station, the reality of her decision began to settle in. She had taken a step that could never be undone, and she knew Amber would eventually find out.

And it didn’t take long.

It was the following afternoon when Tara received a call from an unknown number. Her stomach dropped, the familiar anxiety creeping back into her veins as she hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hello?” Tara’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tara,” came Amber’s voice, cold and filled with venom. “I know what you did.”

Tara’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively took a step back, as if she could escape the phone call that had already settled deep into her chest.

“You went to the police, didn’t you? You really think you can get away from me that easily? Blocking my number didn’t do anything, did it?” Amber’s tone was almost mocking, but beneath it was a layer of pure rage. “You’re nothing without me, Tara. Do you really think they’ll believe you? Do you really think I would hurt you? You’re a liar.”

Tara’s grip on the phone tightened, her voice shaking with fear but laced with a newfound resolve. “I’m not lying, Amber. I’m done. You don’t control me anymore.” Amber’s laughter came through the phone, sharp and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” And then the line went dead.

Tara stood there, the cold air biting at her skin, her heart racing in her chest; feeling the fear creep back in, until you called her downstairs for dinner. Ever since you found her during the finals, you managed to convince Tara to stay over at yours for awhile, considering she would’ve been alone at home and you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.

You went up to the guest bedroom Tara was staying in to see her staring at her phone, slightly taken aback. You could sense her breathing getting shallower and sharper, realizing that she was having an asthma attack and quickly took her inhaler that was placed on the drawers.

She gasped again, but her breath wouldn’t come. Panic began to set in, her heart rate quickening, and she coughed uncontrollably, the sound rough and wet in her chest. The tightness in her throat made it harder to exhale, a wheeze escaping as she forced the air out. It felt as though the very act of breathing had turned into a struggle, and the more she tried, the harder it became. Your hand was already passing the inhaler to her trembling fingers. Tara’s breath hitched, struggling to move as her hands shook, but you placed your hand over hers, steadying it.

"Here, just... take a slow breath in. You can do it," you encouraged, your voice steady as you helped her press the inhaler to her lips. Tara obeyed, inhaling shakily, and within moments, she felt the familiar cooling sensation spread through her chest. The tightness loosened just a little, and she gasped for air, the wheezing beginning to subside.

“Good. Just like that,” you whispered, your hand resting on her shoulder, grounding her. Slowly, Tara's breathing steadied, each inhale coming a little easier than the last, the panic beginning to melt away as the medicine took effect. You stayed by her side, never letting go, just silently offering the comfort she desperately needed.

-

You were starting to get used to the sight of Tara struggling with both panic and asthma attacks throughout her stay at your home. It was a constant ebb and flow, moments where she seemed like she was almost back to herself, only for the anxiety or her breathing to hit her again without warning. At first, it was overwhelming—watching her gasping for air, feeling helpless as she trembled and shook—but over time, you learned how to respond.

You kept her inhaler close, always within reach. You knew the signs now, the way her chest would tighten, the shallow breaths, the subtle shift in her expression that meant her panic was escalating. You knew how to talk her down, how to ground her when the anxiety became too much, and how to steady her when she couldn’t catch her breath. The routine of it had become familiar: gently helping her breathe in through the inhaler, guiding her hands to her chest to ground her, reassuring her with calm words that she wasn’t alone.

But each time it happened, it still broke your heart. You could see the fear in her eyes, the fear of not knowing if she would get through it, the lingering dread that she wasn’t safe. You never left her side during those moments. No matter how many times it happened, you were there—watching, waiting, helping her through it until she found her breath again.

And while it was exhausting, both for her and for you, there was a certain quiet comfort in knowing you could help. Tara was stronger than she gave herself credit for, and you were proud of her every time she pushed through, even when it seemed like too much. With each attack, she seemed to hold onto that strength a little longer, even when she didn't see it herself.

-

After a few weeks of rest and recovery, Tara made the decision to go back to school. It wasn’t easy—every step toward the building felt like it weighed a ton, and her heart would race at the thought of seeing people again, of facing the memories that lurked in every hallway. But she couldn’t hide forever, and despite the anxiety swirling in her chest, Tara knew it was time to take that first step. The news spread like wildfire rippling both in Woodsboro and Blackmore. Everyone seemed to have their own version of the story, but the narrative was clear: Tara and Amber’s relationship was no longer just a private matter—it had become public, and with it, a storm of judgment.

Amber wasted no time in twisting the truth, claiming that Tara had fabricated everything. She told anyone who would listen that Tara was just seeking attention, painting herself as the victim of a lie. Amber played the part of the heartbroken, misunderstood girlfriend, while Tara was cast as the unreliable, dramatic ex who couldn’t handle their breakup. The accusations were swift, harsh, and relentless.

But amidst the gossip, there were small moments of clarity. She still had people who believed her—people like Mindy and Chad, who stood by her side without question. And you. You were her anchor. Every time the rumors swirled, you were there, offering her a steady presence, a reminder that her truth mattered, no matter what anyone else said. The world around her might have been filled with noise, but with your support, Tara began to find her voice again. Even if it took time, even if it was hard, she wasn’t going to let Amber’s lies define her.

The night before, she barely slept, tossing and turning in her bed, replaying the worst-case scenarios in her mind. What if Amber showed up? What if people asked questions she wasn’t ready to answer? But when morning came, you were there to reassure her once more, helping her gather her things and offering quiet encouragement.

“Just take it one step at a time,” you told her, giving her a gentle smile. “You don’t have to face everything all at once. We’ll get through it together.”

As Tara walked through the school gates, she felt a mix of nervousness and determination. She had her inhaler in her pocket, just in case, and a deep breath to calm the jittery nerves that clung to her. There was no going back now, but with each step forward, she could feel the weight on her shoulders lifting just a little bit. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“Hey, Tara!” Serena, a classmate called out, her voice piercing through the crowded hallway. At the sound of her voice, you immediately tensed, a protective instinct kicking in. You weren’t sure if Serena was going to confront Tara, maybe join in the whispers and rumors that had been circulating. But as you glanced at Tara, you could see the hesitation in her expression. She was unsure what to expect from Serena now.

Without thinking, you gently pulled Tara closer, positioning yourself as a shield, ready for whatever was about to happen. Tara stiffened at first, but then she relaxed into you, seeking comfort in your presence. She wasn’t ready to face any more hostility or doubt—not from anyone.

Serena approached, her steps slow but determined. The usual confidence she carried was gone. Her face was softer, almost apologetic, and there was a sadness in her eyes that Tara hadn’t expected. She stopped just in front of you both, looking down at the ground before lifting her eyes to meet Tara’s.

“Tara,” she said quietly, avoiding your eyes. “I owe you an apology. I should’ve believed you from the start. Amber—she did the same thing to me.” Tara blinked, surprised. “You were with Amber too?” Serena nodded, her voice trembling.

You could feel Tara’s grip on your arm tighten, the weight of the moment sinking in. It was clear that this wasn’t just an apology—this was Serena reaching out to Tara, extending a hand to show her that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone who understood the pain.

 “She manipulated me, made me feel crazy, like I was the problem. I didn’t see it until I left her. I saw how she treated you and… I didn’t speak up. I’m sorry for that.” Tara stared at her, processing her words. “I didn’t know… I thought it was just me.”

“I know. I should’ve been there for you,” Serena said. “But I believe you, Tara. Amber’s abuse wasn’t your fault.” Tara’s shoulders slumped, relief and confusion mixing in her eyes. “Thank you. I.. I’m glad you’re saying this.”

Serena gave a soft nod. “I’m here for you, anytime. You’re not alone.”

As Serena walked away, Tara exhaled deeply, her grip on you loosening. The weight wasn’t gone, but knowing Serena understood made the burden a little lighter.

-

It’s been a few weeks since Tara had the courage to start attending school again, and while the halls still felt heavy, there was a noticeable shift in her. The whispers had faded to a dull murmur, and the judgmental stares were fewer, replaced with something a bit more tolerable—curiosity, or maybe even a touch of guilt from those who had doubted her.

Tara had slowly begun to rebuild herself, day by day. With Mindy, Chad, and even Serena’s unexpected support, she had started to find the strength to face the world again. But every step forward came with its own challenge. Some days were harder than others, and the scars from Amber’s abuse weren’t so easily erased. Yet, Tara was determined to keep moving forward, and even though she wasn’t sure what the future held, she knew she wasn’t as alone as she once believed.

There were still moments of fear, of panic, but each time she faced them, it was a little easier to breathe. With you by her side, offering quiet support, she was starting to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could reclaim her life.

Tara knew she had to go back to her house to retrieve a few things. Her mind raced with memories of Amber, of the chaos and control, but there were still some items left behind that she needs—it would be a mixture of both closure and necessity. The thought of stepping foot inside her old home made her stomach turn, but she knew she couldn’t leave everything behind forever. Tara had spent too long running, too long living in fear. It was time to take those final steps—gathering her things, locking the door behind her, and finally letting go of the past that still haunted her.

She wasn’t sure if she could face it alone, but she didn’t want to burden anyone. Still, the idea of returning to the house she once called home left her feeling vulnerable and anxious. She looked over at you, a soft vulnerability in her eyes, unsure of how to ask for help without seeming weak. “I... I need to go back to my house, just to get a few things. I don't think I can do it by myself."

You immediately reassured her, “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll go with you.” Tara let out a quiet breath of relief, her shoulders relaxing. “I didn’t want to ask, but I don’t think I can handle it by myself.”

“I’m here for you, always,” you said, offering a gentle smile. “We’ll go together, take whatever you need, and leave. You don’t have to face it alone.”

Tara gave a small nod, her nerves still present but now softened by your support. “Okay. Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you set out, ready to face the past together, step by step.

Several minutes later, you both arrived at Tara’s old house. The familiar sight of it made her pause, a knot tightening in her stomach. The house that once felt like home now felt like a prison—a place filled with too many memories she wasn’t ready to face. You could sense the vulnerability in Tara’s posture as she stepped into the house, the weight of the moment settling over her. You didn’t want to intrude on something so private, so important to her, but you also wanted to be there if she needed support.

“I’ll stay in the car,” you suggested softly, giving her space. “Take your time. I’m right here if you need me.”

Tara glanced back at you, her eyes filled with gratitude, though the fear was still there. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I don’t know if I can do this, but... I’ll try.”

You gave her a reassuring nod as she stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her. You remained in the car, your heart with her, knowing that no matter how long it took, you’d be here when she was ready to leave.

Just as she left the walkway, you saw a sketchy black car across the street. The engine was idle, and a chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You quickly glanced at the house, knowing Tara was inside. Your protective instinct kicked in. Without thinking, you got out of the car and headed toward the house, your pace quickening.

Inside, Tara was gathering a few of her things when she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She turned, her blood running cold when she saw Amber standing there, leaning against the doorway with that familiar, malicious smirk on her face.

“You didn’t really think you could get away, did you?” Amber’s voice was low and taunting. She stepped into the room, her eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. “I still have a key, remember?” She stepped forward, her fingers tracing the edge of the doorframe where she had forced Tara to give her the spare key long ago

Before she could react, you burst through the door, your body tense with fury. “Get away from her!” you shouted, stepping between them. Amber’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly sneered, taking a threatening step forward. But you didn’t give her the chance. In one swift motion, you grabbed her by the wrist, slamming her hard against the wall with a sickening thud. Amber gasped, her eyes wide with shock, but you weren’t done. Your fist shot out, connecting with her jaw in a brutal punch that made her head snap back, her body jerking from the force of it. You stomped on the leg that you injured a few weeks ago, making her groan in agony.

Tara gasped, her eyes wide, but the sight of Amber recoiling, clutching her cheek, was like a weight lifting off her chest. You didn’t wait for Amber to recover; you shoved her roughly back against the wall, your hand still gripping her wrist.

“Stay the hell away from her. I don’t care who you think you are,” you growled, your voice cold and deadly. Amber’s eyes flickered with fury, but she was too stunned to fight back properly. Tara stood frozen, watching, feeling a strange mix of fear and relief. Amber spat, her glare venomous. “This isn’t over,” she hissed, trying to regain her composure, but you tightened your grip and stepped closer, your gaze unflinching.

Amber’s breathing grew heavy, but she knew she was outmatched. With one last look of hatred, she wrenched herself away and stormed out of the house, limping while slamming the door behind her. As the house grew quiet again, Tara exhaled shakily, still trembling from the confrontation. You turned to her, your chest heaving, but you gave her a steady, comforting look. 

“She’s gone. Shit—I’m sorry, I knew I should’ve—“ Before you could complete your sentence, Tara rushed into your arms, wrapping her arms tightly around you. She buried her face into your chest, her body shaking, her breath uneven.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t apologize. I... I needed that.” Her words were muffled against you, but you could feel the tension leaving her as she clung to you. “I was so scared... but now... I don’t feel so alone.”

You held her tighter, your hands gently rubbing her back as you spoke softly, “You’re not alone, Tara. I’ll always be here. Always.”

Tara nodded, her grip loosening slightly but her face still pressed against you. The world outside felt distant now, the past they’d just confronted fading into the background. What mattered now was the quiet, steady promise that she was safe—here, with you.

-----------

a/n: I'm kind of forcing myself to write longer fics, and I hope this isn't too draggy and boring for u guys. feedback is appreciated :)

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

So. I have a fiancé. A real life one. A guy who I love very much and will marry in 2026. I’m deeply, deeply in love.

When we started dating, I was emerging from a very abusive home life. I had learned through many, many years of experience that sharing my emotions with others was dangerous. That it would get me hurt. That it would get me hit.

So for a long time, I didn’t share when I was feeling frustrated. I didn’t tell him when I was upset. I didn’t tell him about the things that were bothering me. Either from home or work or whatever. It culminated in me experiencing those emotions and experiencing them on my own. It culminated in him knowing I was upset, often upset with him, but knowing that I wouldn’t talk to him.

By the time we had been together for a few months, the only times I was expressing any emotions to him were when everything bubbled over. I would burst into tears and sob or hours. I would yell. I would do everything I could to protect myself, even blame him for problems that I caused, because I had learned that vulnerability=danger.

A number of times I told him that being in arguments made me feel like I was going to die. That was not an exaggeration. The vulnerability of it made me feel like I was about to be killed.

But I owed it to my partner and to myself to try and reach a place where I could be emotionally vulnerable. He deserved someone who could access their emotions, share when they were struggling, and be emotionally intimate. If I was incapable of that, then I wasn’t ready for the relationship.

All of this to say: we DO owe our partners emotional vulnerability. If we say we want a deeper relationship, if we say we want to be closer than FWB, then we owe the relationship that. And if it’s shown to be a consistent problem that somebody can’t be emotionally vulnerable, then I think the other party gets to push. Or at least express their discontent.

This idea that Treasure violated Porter’s consent seems a little… immature? I don’t know. It feels like the musings of one who hasn’t had to navigate the back and forth of a real relationship.

Porter owes Treasure the vulnerability he claims he wants to give them. It’s okay if he doesn’t know how to do that. He has been hurt very deeply. That isn’t his fault. But the reactions that his trauma causes in him and the impacts they have on others are his responsibility. He is allowed to not be perfect at this. But he has to try. At least that. If he can’t, then maybe he’s not ready for them.

Treasure owes Porter the space to grow, the space to try in a safe way. If they can’t do that, if they’re too focused on their own hurt to recognize his extraordinary circumstances, then maybe they’re not ready for him.

But yeah. As someone who has Been Porter… maybe Porter is a lil in the wrong. And maybe he’ll get better. I did.

[authenticbunni]

There is no mental fighting/struggle

Girl you is lost. Manifesting is not that complicated at all. You just have to simply decide.

Before you scroll, I know you’ve seen people say that all the time, and it just never wrapped around your complexed mind. I used to have that problem too, I feel you. I have a complexed mind, and even though most people say you don’t have to know everything, I did so I can wrap it around my mind and knowing more actually helped me de-complex my mind. Now that I understand it I’m going to explain some reason as to maybe why you’ve been struggling to just decide.

I’ve put it into two parts if you don’t feel like you need to read everything. Accountability and 4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D

Accountability

I think where you go wrong is not realizing everything in your life that you’ve ever interacted with or did is from your thoughts. You’re still in a mindset of “how could this have happened? This is not my fault? This is not my doing?” Now that’s human, people always try to blame, don’t beat yourself up. But when you’re trying to manifest and blame every single thing in your life on everyone else, you’re never going to manifest because you can’t take accountability. If you can’t take accountability of your own life, how can you even have full control over your own life.

That was a really hard pill for me to swallow, when it came to taking accountability for the doings in my life. TRUST ME! When I had to move away from Florida, when I had a brutal falling out with my bf. I had to realize that was my fault. Both of those were not in my favor or desires, but I thought so much about those outcomes that it eventually happened.

Once you take accountability you realize the only thing you’ve been struggling with is you. The only thing you’ve been fighting off is you. The only struggle you’ve been going through is you. You have accepted those thoughts into your mind, and now you’ve become them. Now, don’t get panicky or feel like you gotta do a whole bunch of stuff to get past this. Just simply let them pass. Know that these are just thoughts and you have the power to accept and decline them with ease, because you’re subconscious mind always follows your lead without thinking twice.

4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D

What I mean by the equation is. Your imagination controls/creates your reflection. Your mind is your true reality, and your 3D reflects that. Your 3D does not make you, you make you

4D = reality

3D = reflection (of your 4D)

Stop separating the two, they are always in the same equation. Your 3D is as changeable and flexible as your imagination. I didn’t realize this until I actually saw it happen.

Back to the brutal falling out with my bf. Prior we were just friends but he was pretty regular, talking here, having conversations. But due to dwelling in negative thoughts, in less than I think 1 or 2 days he completely took a 180 and flipped the switch. He hated me, and never wanted to talk to me. During this is completely shock on why this would happened because “I thought I was doing everything right” after a few I realize I was more strong on thinking he hated me, saw me as a nuisance. (Okay that’s enough, I don’t wanna talk about it tm cuz I’m manifesting him back) but that was the work of my manifestation.

As of right now that’s all I can think of, I might make another post or add on to this post. But yeah, those are the reasons I think people have a hard time with. If you feel like this wasn’t enough details for you, that’s fine I’m glad I at least helped u a lil bit 😋.

[oimitocat]

IT’S YOU | HC/DB

myung jaehyun x m!reader

fluff + idol!au + established relationship + sfw (wow) + 7th!member reader

a/n; i saw him once and spiraled down the bnd hole. why is he just so shufjfdhshhd.

dating him means having no self restraint

he doesn’t make it easy either, he likes to mess with you

playfully makes you jealous

he doesn’t order you around because he’s the leader: he orders you around because you’re so wrapped around his finger you’ll do it with no hesitation

”i need you guys to copy my move today, no backing out,” jaehyun announces with a mischievous grin.

“oh what will you make us do now?” leehan groans.

you simply smile, because fulfilling whatever your dear leader wants is something you’re willing to fulfill every time. seeing his adorable smile is everything you need to survive. he’s just so-

“y/n you’re squeezing too hard!” he whines as you pinch his cheeks.

“mm well who’s fault is it for being so cute?”

“ew,” dongmin gags playfully.

“jealous prick,” you playfully hit taesan’s arm as he walks past.

having taken advantage of you letting you to hit taesan, jaehyun runs off complaining about how he’ll look puffier.

he’s not insecure but he does show signs of discomfort in his own skin sometimes but you always make him feel better without being told how he feels

he always seeks you out just how he is with woonhak

he LOVES physical touch, could you not tell?

always holding your hand or hooking his arm with yours when walking next to you

LOVES IT when you give him piggy back rides

sometimes while all of you are getting touch ups, he’d be sitting on your lap and both your stylist and his have to deal with it

he didn’t like to be all over you like that before

you make him NERVOUS most of the time despite how shameless he is

will STARE YOU DOWN for a kiss because he literally gets gushy to ask for it

the two of you would be laying down on his bed, him cuddled into you. your phone is somewhere in the bedsheets, your cheek is rested on his head and your eyes stare at his phone as he scrolls through social media apps. one of your arms is under him, wrapped around to where your hand is above his hip.

he seems like he’s scrolling mindlessly, but he’s hyper focused on the way your fingers mess with the hem of his hoodie, raising it a bit and your fingertips grazing his skin.

“you’re zoning out,” you accuse when the same video repeats a third time.

“i am not, i was just trying to understand the video.” he argues, moving his head to look up at you.

“what is there to understand?” you chuckle, tilting your head to look at his pout, “the guy gets hit with a water ballon.”

“shut up,” he huffs, glaring at you, but you know better.

“yah, just say you want something,” you tease, leaning in to touch the tip of his nose with yours.

jaehyun makes a face before looking down at your lips. the tips of his ears are reddened, you grin.

“want a kiss?”

he nods, still not looking at you. you bring your hand out from the back of your head, shifting to a different position to lean in well. your free hand grabs his chin and tilts it up. your lips capture his in a soft kiss, you smile when he relaxes.

“next time don’t even ask baby,” you tease as you peck his lips again.

jaehyun huffs, trying to scoot away but your hand grips his waist and keeps him in place.

constant sleepovers

the two of you have different dorms but he still comes into your room and stays the night

that’s IF he’s not in the studio

“i brought you food,” you announce as you go inside the room he’s been cooped up in for the past five hours.

“i already ate-“

“when?” you huff, setting the food on the table behind him, “in the morning? it’s five pm.”

he makes a face, “i was thinking of doing a diet-“

“for what?” you cross your arms.

he stares at you before looking at the food.”i can start tomorrow-“

“or never.” you take out the food and assort it over the table, “come on, let’s eat.”

jaehyun makes a small noise of complaint before getting out of his chair and coming over to you. he sits next to you and patiently waits as you take out the utensils from their packaging. there’s an innocent look on his face, one you recognize very well the second you look at him. he tilts his head and smiles.

“fine, i’ll feed you,” you sigh as you pick up meat from his bowl and guide it to his mouth.

you can’t help but attack him with kisses while he munches down his food. he gives you cuteness aggression so bad, especially when he does his little dance when taking the first bite of food.

both of you work out so good because both your love languages include kisses

when he gets really excited or happy around you he does the same thing he does to the group— pauses and admires you

you catch him looking at you a lot more often than him catching you

he loves it when you pull him by the waist

AND IF YOU KISS HIM ONCE HE’S AGAINST YOU? he’s get all gushy

super sassy with you

doesn’t really like it when you worry over him but he gives you REASONS

normally that’s a cause for arguments but you genuinely show him you just want to care for him the way he cares for everyone

your big baby, always getting all soft and mushy and ends up crying if you two randomly get into a deep talk

literally bby girl

your bby girl

[purplephantomwolf]

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Six

Synopsis: You are a bakery owner. One day Max Verstappen comes into your bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: Panic attack mention

Previous Chapter: Chapter Five

Masterlist

March 20, 2022

     “Y/n, what are you still doing here?” Christian appears in front of you. 

     “Waiting for Max. He wanted to drive me home after the race,” you yawn, stretching. 

     “We just finished our debrief meeting, so he should be up soon,” Christian claps you on the shoulder. 

     “Thank you, Christian. Have a good night,” you nod, as he leaves the hospitality. 

     You only have to wait a couple of minutes before Max appears. “Bonjour, Max,” you say, as he approaches you. 

     “Hi, Y/n,” he says, dejected. You frown at his response. 

     “What’s wrong?” You stand up, grabbing your bag. You start walking to his car. 

     “I’m sorry about the race; I wanted to give you a good one to watch,” he sighs. 

     “Max,” you start, giving him a stern look. “You did give me a good race. You did amazing today,” you tell him. 

     “But I got a dnf,” he protests. You grab his arm to stop and turn him towards you. 

    “Max, you were in podium position until your car had issues. It is not your fault you got a dnf,” you firmly say. He gives you a sad look, and you shake your head. “I still had so much fun this weekend. I don’t care that you had a dnf. I am still thankful you invited me,” you tell him as you arrive at his car. He looks surprised when you say you don’t care that he has a dnf. 

     “Thank you, Y/n,” he says, opening the door for you. 

     You slide in, replying with a “I didn’t do anything to be thanked for.” Max climbs into his side of the car and you drive in silence for a couple minutes. 

     “I’m thinking of hiring another baker so that I can take time off and not have to close the bakery. This is my first time taking time off since I opened it,” you think aloud, trying to fill the silence. 

     Max glances at me, “Oh? I think that would be an excellent idea. You must be exhausted from working every day.”

     You sigh, nodding. You rest my head against the window of his car, the vibration of the car lulling you to sleep. 

************************************************************************

     “Y/n,” you hear your name and feel your body gently shake. 

    “Huh?” You hum, slowly waking up. You rub your eyes, looking around. 

     “We’re at your hotel,” Max smiles at you. 

     “Oh, thank you,” you yawn. You grab my bag and turn to Max. “Thank you for everything this weekend. I won’t ever forget a moment of it,” you thank him. 

     “Of course, thank you for helping me through my panic attack. I don’t know how I would’ve calmed down otherwise,” Max smiles gently. 

     “Of course, I’ll help you anytime you need it. Have a good night, Max,” you say, going to climb out of his car. 

     “You leave tomorrow, right?” He rushes his question out. You turn to him, nodding. “Okay, then I guess the next time I see you will be back in Monaco. Good night, Y/n,” he smiles.

     “Good night, Max,” you climb out of his car, waving to him. You head into the hotel and up to your room. 

      You fall onto your bed, letting out a happy sigh. You pull out your phone to call Louis and Estelle. The phone rings a couple of times before someone picks up. 

     “Bonjour, Y/n!” Louis greets you. 

     “Bonjour, Louis!” you reply. 

     “Tell me about the race! How was Max afterwards?” Louis inquires. 

     “Oh, the race was amazing. Watching the cars fly past was so cool. We’re definitely going to have to go to Monaco this year. Max was hard on himself, he wanted to give me a good race to watch, and getting a dnf is not what he wanted,” You sigh, recalling how Max was acting, “I told him that he did give me a good race to watch and it’s not his fault he got a dnf.”

     “Good, hopefully he won’t be too hard on himself now,” Louis hums. 

     “I hope not, but he probably will be,” you say. Louis makes a sound of agreement. You let out a yawn. “I should go to bed. It’s late here, and I have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you tell Louis. 

     “Bon nuit, Y/n. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis responds. You wish him a good night and hang up the phone. You go through your nightly routine and climb into bed, quickly falling asleep. 

************************************************************************

March 21, 2022

     You deboard the plane, heading for baggage claim. Gathering your things from the carousel, you look for Louis and Estelle. You spot them quickly and head towards them. 

     “Welcome home, cherie. How was the flight?” Louis asks, taking your baggage from you. 

     “How were Lacey and Elise?” You ask, heading for the parking lot. 

     “They were angels. They’re super excited to see you,” Estelle informs you. You let out a little laugh, nodding. 

     “I’m sure, this is the longest I’ve been away from them. Probably missing their mama a whole bunch,” you say. You approach Louis’ car and climb in. “Thank you for picking me up.” 

      “Of course, dear,” Estelle says. You guys head for your apartment and bakery. 

     Pulling into your bakery parking lot, you can spot your dogs staring out from the upstairs window. You laugh and climb out. “Thank you again for the ride. I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning,” you say, giving both of them kisses on the cheek. 

     “Of course, amour. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis says. You wave goodbye as they pull away from the bakery. 

     Once they’re out of sight, you head into the bakery. Scaling the stairs, you can hear your puppies scratching at the door. “I’m here, I’m here,” you coo, opening the door. “Hello, my loves. Did you miss your mama?” You talk to them like they can actually answer you. After greeting them and petting them for five minutes, you head to your bedroom to put up your luggage. 

     As you’re putting the last of your things away, your phone rings. Max’s name flashes across the screen, bringing a grin to your face. “Hello, Max,” you answer the phone. 

     “Hello, Y/n. Did you make it home without any trouble?” Max asks you. 

     “I did. I’m home and I just finished putting everything away. Did you make it to Saudi Arabia alright?” You ask him, falling into bed. 

     You hear shuffling on the other end of the phone and a door close. “I did, I just got back to my hotel after dinner with the team,” Max responds. 

     “Oh, sounds fun. Are you expecting a good weekend from the car?” You inquire. 

      “It’s looking better than last weekend. We replaced some parts and it’s looking better,” Max answers you. 

      “Oh good, I’m glad. I’m excited to see you win. I’ll be cheering from home,” you tell him. 

     “I’ll win this race for you,” Max informs you. You let out a little giggle. 

     “Okay, sounds good,” you blush and kick your feet excitedly. You suddenly get hit with a wave of tiredness. “I think I’m going to sleep, Max. I’ll text you when I wake up tomorrow, if you’d like?” You shyly ask him. 

      “I’d love that,” he answers.

      “Okay, I’ll do that then.” You wish him a good night and hang up. You crawl under the covers and your pups join you in bed. The flight wore you out, so you’re asleep in seconds. 

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

Permanent Tag list:

@sol3chu

@faithshouseofchaos

Story Tag list:

@freyathehuntress

@anotherapollokid

[completeoveranalysis]

[7]

I- 

APPARENTLY THERE IS ANOTHER THING. Now Clow Reed has traded his life as a price to pay for Syaoran’s. 

WHICH IS ALL VERY WELL AND GOOD BUT MY GOD HE IS SKATING BY ON A TECHNICALITY THERE. More Cardcaptor Sakura spoilers in this post.

Like YES ok he isn’t alive but he didn’t ‘die’ in the traditional sense, and there are two half Clow Reeds walking around alive right this very moment, BUT apparently that is still enough of a price! HE, the original, the Full Clow Reed Experience, is still "current status: not alive", so that looks like it’s enough of a price. 

I suppose his magic itself is also listed as a very significant part of the exchange here too, which neatly ties back into Cardcaptor Sakura yet again. There it was Running Out and this would add another reason why that's the situation they're dealing with (beyond him being dead, which is apparently not enough); he had traded the rest of it away, for Tsubasa Syaoran, so there was none left to keep everything going. Or like, there's something about Eriol in that as well, I can't remember. Eriol inherited the REST of Clow's power, but not as much of it by far, on purpose, so I guess all the missing magic was traded away.

But EVEN SO it feels like an entire universe shift inside my mind here, where we are rewriting the entire reasoning behind Clow Reed’s death into the very fabric of Tsubasa as if it was that way all along. Like, goodness, when was Cardcaptor Sakura? When did that air for my country - the year 2000? That’s over twenty years of a fact living inside my brain before redesigning the entire truth behind it now in 2024. 

Though let’s be real part of that is my fault for reading this so slowly. But still.

I was about to move on but I just also want to go back to Yuuko and add that Yuuko is paving the way for Sakura on two fronts - or switching herself out for two different Sakuras. Her spot in Existence, in the Revived-From-The-Verge-Of-Death-and-In-Between-Reality Zone was given to Super Sakura, which was originally framed as if that was the end of Yuuko already. But now we find out that WHILE that space went to Super Sakura, Yuuko kind of still exists in the world of dreams - but now she’s formally trading her life away for our clone Sakura’s life, so she can continue living once again. 

Oh and the romance of it all. Yuuko and Clow Reed being a tragic couple who couldn’t have the life together that they had in mind, passing their spots in life on to another doomed couple who now CAN have a life together. Yuuko and Clow being hyper powerful beings, willingly trading places with broken clones who didn’t naturally exist in the first place, so that they can be together and fix everything else in their stead. 

Yuuko and Clow (mostly just Clow) breaking the universe, and then passing the torch onto the couple who will fix it instead. 

And add in how involved they were in the process too! Knowing that they would trade their lives away to help these two, and then doing everything they could to help them actually get here in the end. Clow giving up his entire life to go and raise Sakura as long as he could, and Yuuko watching over and helping Syaoran and Sakura on their journey as much as possible, let alone - OH. WAIT. Clow Reed in the Clow Kingdom raising Sakura and Syaoran, while Yuuko helps raise Watanuki, yet another accidental clone person who only came into being because of mistakes they made.

The symmetry of that is wonderful. 

And even like, the framing of Yuuko’s position as the audience understands it. At the start of the story it seems like Yuuko is mostly neutral, if sympathetic, and over time it seems like she’s working towards a greater goal of saving the universe and so it suits her to watch over them. But SURPRISE she and Clow have been deeply involved in raising and supporting these two (or three) from the very beginning of their lives, working heavily behind the scenes to make deals and push people in directions that would eventually spiral around and help them get here - so that Clow and Yuuko could trade their lives away to give Sakura and Syaoran both another chance at life. 

Like OH the secret parents who stepped up and guided these kids when they had no-one else. These kids who weren’t technically born and weren’t originally meant to exist, and Clow and Yuuko stepping in and becoming the parental figures who give up absolutely everything to make sure it turns out ok for them in the end. I just really enjoy that.

[devildomwriter]

You Go To See A Christmas Carol Part III

The show is about to begin and things might be settled, or they might be slowly getting worse.

Belphegor: “That was fun.”

MC: “I’m tired…”

Belphegor: “Me too.”

MC: “You’re always tired.”

Beelzebub: “Want some?”

MC: “That’s very sweet of you Beel but I don’t really feel like eating right now… anyway let’s just ask someone where the box we’re in is.”

Staff: “Your seats are right up those stairs there to your left.”

MC: “Thank you.”

Staff: “Anytime. Oh, by the way, do you happen to know the red-haired man in that area?”

MC: “Yes.”

Staff: “Please thank him again for me for his generous tip. I can finally pay off my student loans.”

MC: “Okay?”

Belphegor: “How much do you think he tipped her?”

MC: “I think he probably heard about her Student loans while he was here for three hours and looked up the average amount and gave it to her. Or he doesn’t know how tips work in America.”

Beelzebub: “I’m out of popcorn.”

MC: “Dammit not again.”

MC: “Belphegor, this is the spare card for house expenses, do not lose it. Go get your brother some popcorn or something.”

Belphegor: “Okay. Can you find the seats on your own?”

MC: “I’ll survive.”

Belphegor: “Not what I asked but okay.”

Diavolo: “Do you think everything is alright downstairs?”

Barbatos: “I’m sure we would have heard if anything were amiss.”

Lucifer: “….”

Diavolo: “Lucifer you’re looking awfully pale, can I get you anything?”

Lucifer: “Do you suppose that summoning a human across realms counts as human trafficking?”

Diavolo: “I beg pardon?”

Solomon: “Hahahaha! This sounds like a fun debate!”

Lucifer: “Just what I needed…”

Solomon: “It’s good to see you too Lucifer!”

Diavolo: “Barbatos did I kidnap MC?”

Barbatos: “There is a very big difference between an international crime and a surprise summoning.”

Diavolo: “Good. I was worried for a minute there.”

Leviathan: “Why did you suddenly bring that up anyway?”

Lucifer: “I just happened to overhear it when I called Asmo.”

Satan: “You overheard it? Is something bad happening downstairs?”

Lucifer: “I think…for once…this is MC’s fault…”

Mammon: “Why ya gotta blame MC?”

Lucifer: “MC made a joke that Diavolo kidnapped them.”

Diavolo: “Oh dear.”

Solomon: “That sounds like MC.”

Lucifer: “…”

Lucifer: “Solomon…what is that you’re holding?”

Solomon: “Oh this?”

Diavolo: “Oh no.”

Solomon: “There’s a bar around the corner downstairs.”

Lucifer: “I’ll be right back.”

Diavolo: “Ah, please wait.”

Leviathan: “He’s gone.”

Satan: “We tried.”

Simeon: “I bought some extra popcorn, does anyone want some?”

Diavolo: “Simeon! It’s good to see you here! Luke too!”

Diavolo: “I apologize for not extending the invitation to you three, I heard you had prior obligations.”

Simeon: “Yes, they fell through so Solomon looked into what you were doing and bought tickets.”

Solomon: “Oh I didn’t buy them.”

Simeon: “What?”

Solomon: “I know a few people.”

Simeon: “…How did you get these tickets Solomon.”

Solomon: “No one was hurt.”

Simeon: “Solomon…who’s tickets are these? Is this why we had to use fake names?”

Mammon: “You used fake names too? I got stuck with Matthew what’d you guys get?”

Simeon: “Arthur Carbunckle.”

Mammon: “Ahahahahahaha!”

Lucifer: “The sorcerer from Yorkshire?”

Solomon: “You know of him?”

Simeon: “I don’t like where this conversation is going. Where is MC? I thought they’d be here by now?”

MC: “You called?”

Everyone: “MC!”

Diavolo: “I kidnapped you?”

MC: “So you admit it.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “I’m only teasing. Where did Lucifer go?”

Solomon: “The bar.”

MC: “Ugh who let him find out.”

Solomon: “Was it a secret?”

Simeon: “Well I think he needs it…it should all be fine.”

Solomon: “So has anyone seen this play before?”

Mammon: “Nope.”

Leviathan: “Never heard of it.”

Barbatos: “A few times.”

Satan: “I’ve read about it. I’m not sure how well they can adapt it to a live-action stage performance though.”

Diavolo: “I haven’t seen this rendition but I believe it will go excellently. This is supposed to be the best one there is.”

Luke: “Really! I had no idea it was so popular!”

Lucifer: “I’m back.”

Satan: “Is that beer?”

Lucifer: “And?”

Satan: “Nothing…”

MC: “Can I have some of that?”

Lucifer: “Later tonight.”

MC: “Never mind.”

MC: “Sooo…Diavolo… am I still allowed to sit next to you even though I made a stupid joke that got the cops called?”

Diavolo: “Hahahaha! We all make mistakes MC. Of course, you can sit by me.”

Mammon: “I call the other side—“

Lucifer: “Sit down, we already agreed on the seating.”

Mammon: “Come on, I took a beating earlier at least let me sit next to MC.”

MC: “Mammon sweetie are you okay?”

Mammon: “Wh-Huh? Y-yeah…”

Leviathan: “You were crying.”

Mammon: “Shut up.”

MC: “May the lingering traces of pain vanish from the demon before me, I am the sorcerer MC, obey me.”

Mammon: “…shit…I feel all better! That worked like magic MC!”

Solomon: “It is magic.”

Mammon: “I didn’t ask you.”

Luke: “Ooh the lights are flickering again!”

Simeon: “That means it’s time for us to be very quiet, okay Luke?”

Luke: “Ok. Can I have the popcorn now?”

Simeon: “Yes, I snuck in some juice too if you want it.”

Leviathan: “Ooo, the angel broke the rules. Did you hear that Lucifer?”

Lucifer: “Simeon can do what he wants.”

Simeon: “Thank you, Luci.”

Lucifer: “Do not call me that.”

Simeon: “I thought I could do what I want.”

Lucifer: “I’m getting a migraine.”

MC: “Okay guys, I love messing with the old man as much as anyone but I think we should all be quiet now, okay?”

Satan: “Fine.”

Mammon: “Got it.”

Leviathan: “Okay.”

Simeon: “Hehe.”

Solomon: “…one last question…where are Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Asmodeus?”

MC: “…umm…Belphegor has the house’s spare credit card.”

Lucifer: “What?”

MC: “He’s getting some snacks with Beel.”

Lucifer: “…and Asmo?”

MC: “Man is living his best life.”

Lucifer: “What does that mean exactly?”

MC: “I can’t tell you within earshot of Luke.”

Lucifer: “What? With who!? How did he even find the time to—“

Barbatos: “Calm down Lucifer, everything will be fine, won’t it MC?”

MC: “Yeah, he got rid of the cops he’s doing us a favor.”

Luke: “The police?”

Lucifer: “He’s….with the police….”

Diavolo: “…”

Mammon: “Ahahahahaha! That’s one way to handle it!”

Satan: “The lights are dimming everyone shut up and eat your popcorn.”

Belphegor: “Hey guys, did we miss anything?”

MC: “Shhh.”

Belphegor: “Okay. Beel sit over there.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor: “Oh hey it’s the Chihuahua.”

The theatre is completely silent, not even murmurs in the crowd. The only thing that echoed off the walls before the play began was the loud protests of a child, “I’m not a Chihuahua.”

Luke blushed as the audience laughed and then the director walked on stage.

Director: “Ladies…gentlemen…chihuahuas…”

Mammon: “BAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!”

Leviathan: “Pft! Lolololol Luke, you’re a legend!”

Luke: “Grrrrrrr.”

The crowd laughed and quickly silenced as he raised his hands and gave credit to everyone involved in the production, prop art, acting, and orchestra.

Mammon: “Man, lotta people went into this, huh?”

Lucifer: “Yes, so don’t mess it up.”

Mammon: “Why me?”

Lucifer: “This play is practically about you.”

Mammon: “Huh?”

Belphegor: “Pft!”

Satan: “He’s…right actually.”

Mammon: “Huh? Ain’t this about a grumpy old man or somethin’ sounds more like Lucifer!”

Lucifer: “Shut up or I’ll punch you.”

Mammon: “Ow! Give me the chance to stop first!”

MC: “Everyone shut up, that’s an order.”

Mammon: “Eep!”

Lucifer: “Gh!”

Barbatos: “Thank you MC.”

[The play begins with an old man standing over a coffin. He steals the coins from the dead man’s eyes.]

Mammon: “Why the fuck would ya bury money, that just makes sense.”

Satan: “I can never see Scrooge the same way again…”

[In the next scene, he counts money in his office while his assistant freezes from the lack of coals for a fire as they are a needless expense.]

Mammon: “Counting money, this guy gets it.”

Luke: “Simeon I’m a little worried about Mammon…”

Simeon: “Well, maybe this play will set him straight.”

Solomon: “If it doesn’t, I know a few ghosts willing to help out.”

Mammon: “What are you guys whispering about back there.”

Solomon: “Oh nothin’.”

Mammon: “Really, ‘cause your smile is freaking me out?”

[The man’s nephew comes to visit, wishing his uncle a merry Christmas but the man rejects the sentiment.]

Mammon: “What the hell, ain’t that his nephew?”

Luke: “I think it’s working.”

Simeon: “Don’t jinx it.”

Luke: *nods*

[The man returns home alone when suddenly things move about around him flying across the stage.]

Mammon: “How the hell are they doin’ that?”

Satan: “Wires and magnets probably.”

Mammon: “Better not be a real ghost.”

Solomon: “Don’t tempt me.”

Mammon: “What does that mean?”

[The ghost of the man’s dead friend and former business partner, Marley appears and warns the man that because of his greed, he is doomed to wander the earth weighed down by chains. ]

Mammon: “Pft, ghosts can’t get chained up. …Right?”

[Marley warns the man that three ghosts will be coming to visit him and he leaves. The man faints but awakens just before the first ghost arrives.]

Luke: “Wow it’s glowing.”

Mammon: “That thing gives me the creeps.”

Belphegor: *sneaking up on Mammon*

Belphegor: “Boo.”

A shrill scream sounds in the theatre making many audience members jump. As professionals, the actors do not acknowledge the disturbance or the thud that followed it.

Mammon: “That hurt. That wasn’t even my fault.”

MC: “Belphie, quiet.”

Belphegor: “Fine.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, MC.”

MC: “Don’t mention it.”

[The ghost brings the man to his childhood days, and then to his apprenticeship with a man named Fezziwig. Finally to when he met his beloved, Belle, and when she broke their engagement because his lust for money was too much.]

Mammon: “…”

MC: “…”

Lucifer: “…”

Luke: “It’s working…”

Solomon: “Shh.”

[Scrooge is returned to bed at last, after shedding remorseful tears. Finally, the next ghost arrives, a gentle giant representing the Christmas of the present.]

The curtains draw for intermission.

Previous • Next

[norel-ravenclaw]

Christmas Spirit, And Lack Thereof

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: Husk x fucked up depressed reader~

Genre: Hurt & comfort

Description: Reader is burned out and depressed, unable to be the partner they feel Husk deserves, especially around the holidays. He’s having none of the bullshit.

Warnings: | language | depressed reader/seasonal depression? | brief suicidal thoughts | chronic illness/depression | everyone is either drunk or wants to be |

Fucking great. Another thing requiring effort you didn’t have to give - the tall, heavy doors to the hotel. Of course the curse of pain somehow followed you to hell. Of course it hurt to just open a door. After giving everything at a shitty job all day, it was just the fiftieth last straw.

You jumped as the doors swung open all of a sudden. A tipsy Sir Pentious was pulled outside by the hand of a raucous Cherri Bomb. Taking the chance, you tried to slip around them before the door closed, only to wince in pain as it hit your hand with force. With a frustrated and pained sound, you pushed the door open and stumbled inside.

You were more than half tempted to turn right back around and wander into a terf war. But Angel Dust called out from the bar, even drunker than Pentious.

“Baaabe! Can you please get ya man to quit bein’ so stingy? Won’t ya share the pussy cat with me?”

Husk snarled from behind the counter, swiping the empty glass from the spider’s hand. “I’m cuttin’ you off. Now fuck off and go bother someone else.”

Angel pouted, but even in his wasted state couldn’t help but notice the extra edge in the bartender’s voice. “Fiiine. Fine. Geez. You’re both as bad as the otha’.”

Ignoring the two hands flipping him off, Husk glanced at you, still frozen by the door. “Come here.”

Angel was right, he did have more edge than was usual even for him. …And you couldn’t help but worry it was your fault.

You forced one sore foot to move in front of the other. The threadbare carpet felt like a cloud compared to the unforgiving concrete you were made to stand on all day.

Husk tossed his cleaning rag aside and gestured you towards the bar counter in the corner of the transplanted room. Somehow you trudged over to it and perched on one of the stools.

He leaned a hand on the bar top and put the other on your waist, his red wings spreading out as though to shield you from the view of the rest of the hotel. Gold rimmed eyes stared pointedly into yours.

“Were you going to try to slip by without saying anything again?”

You bit your cheek and glanced away.

His fingers tightened slightly in your clothes, and he sighed. “I don’t need a report on your day. I don’t even need a hello. Just let me help you settle in.”

Your own hand trembled in your lap as you clenched a fist. “I can hardly do anything anymore,” you lamented, voice breaking. “I haven’t had energy for anything in weeks. Or for you. …Why do you even bother with me, Husk?”

A complicated swirl of emotions crossed his face, and a feline sound rumbled deep in his throat. The hand on the bar moved to your lap, encasing your trembling fist in his.

Something like a purr rolled from him as he gently massaged the strained muscles for a moment.

Then the same gentle hand gripped your chin, and your hackles raised as much as his.

“Now you listen to me,” he growled. “I chose you. I don’t give a shit if you’re not up for the ‘normal’ things. Neither am I most days. I chose you because I respect you, ‘cause you get me out of my own head. You don’t think I know myself well enough to know what I need?”

His gaze softened, a quiet sound beyond words escaping him. “I like takin’ care of you. You make me better. Even when you don’t say a damn word, fuck I love you.” His thumb swiped gently across your lip.

“I’m literally four times your goddamn age. Days are nothing to me. Weeks are nothing. I’m not so fucking fragile that I can’t handle the times when you’re at your lowest. I don’t need you to perform or pretend for me, just to be by my side. Okay? Let me take care of you, you stubborn ass.”

You lurched forward into his chest, and he gave a surprised ‘mrrp’. He wrapped you up in his arms and wings, chuckling softly.

“Even when we’re both miserable, being with you is the best part of my day. So quit runnin’ from me.” His embrace strengthened as your shaking hands fisted into his fur. For a long moment, he just held you tight. When he spoke again, his deep voice was low and vulnerable. “Darlin’ you’re home to me. Be a mess. Fall apart. Just… don’t leave me alone.”

“…I’m so sorry Husk.”

His ears flicked at the first hint of your voice in a few minutes. “Nah, baby, you’ve got nothing to apologise for. Just be with me.”

A large hand began stroking your hair, the melancholy leaving his voice at last. “This piece of shit old sinner isn’t about to let go of what belongs to him so easily.”

“…Okay,” you finally relented.

A gentle smile graced his lips as he lifted your wrist to kiss. “That’s it. You’ve earned yourself some pampering, hm? I’ll get some ice for this.” Letting go, he gently lifted you into his arms. He laughed, smirking at your surprise. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.“

I know I’m just an internet rando @irkimatsu, but god I’m in a really similar position with physical and mental health bs on top of exhaustion around the ✨establishment✨. I was going to make my own Husk comfort drabble on basically the same premise as some of your recent posts. I hope you don’t mind I made this a smidge more specific, because it sounds like we might just need the same kind of thing at the moment. <3

[theduvetpirate]

Yeah I get that for sure, the game doesn’t offer you a choice but I also see a lot of people conflating his upset with hate and I just really don’t think that he hates Shepard at all?

Idk it’s personal to each person I guess but from my pov the first thing he does is hug Shepard and then reacts quite rationally to his closest person being dead for 2years no contact suddenly appearing with a terrorist group and being like “hey kaidan how’ve you been? 😀”

I would be angry too if I’d been traumatised by leaving the person I love behind on her orders to then receive no word from her (again, defo not the players fault but that is the way it’s written) but it wouldn’t mean that I hate them Id just need time to process this new info again, which is what he’s done by Me3, and then I think it’s actually LESS realistic to have that person just accept in 3 mins at first glance that Shepard in front of them actually is their Shepard and not some experiment by Cerberus in the first place after spending the entire previous time together pretty much taking apart Cerberus bases and experiments…

Idk, I can understand some of the points Espesh when it comes to the writing and the player’s lack of ability to change the story choices with the virmire survivor -defo frustrating- but a LOT of the kaidan hate I’ve seen seems to just boil down to “I don’t like that he didn’t immediately drop everything for Shepard/I don’t like that he had an angry reaction to Shepard/he cheated with a doctor” when to me it’s clear he’s spent two years trying to move past what was probably hella traumatising, starting to make progress and she’s just appears out of nowhere with a whole new team

And then he sends the email and Idk I personally loved it!! From Me1 Kaidan is shown as a character to be emotionally mature and worked through his demons, so to me if anything his outburst on Horizon is because he cares about Shepard so much his control slips, and then with the email I just thought ok fair enough!! he reacted angrily after his base was attacked and in shock that Shepard is actually truly alive as any person might but then recognised that he was maybe wrong to react that way in the moment, apologises first then lets her know he went on one date at the request of his friends which he specifically says was not serious, and tells her he needs time but essentially leaves the door open, again reiterating that he doesn’t trust Cerberus and to be careful, so idk how that comes across as hating shep when to me it read more like an apology for a shock response..

This was a looooooong ramble hahahaha but yeah I basically understand 100% why you feel that way, cos the forced choice of joining Cerberus defo doesn’t lend to then having people angry at you in game, but I just think it’s so strange that 98% of the fan base hates him and so few people seem to be able to cut some slack for Kaidan given the entire context/circumstances that the conversation goes down

I am prepared to be hated but I really think Garrus is a bit overrated?????? I went into this game being like damn Garrus is clearly the one to be with cos of how popular he is and don’t get me wrong I LOVE that turian so much he’s a bestie fr but I had actually 0 interest in romancing him at all???

Prepared for double the hate but yall overhate Kaidan as well lmao he does not deserve the hate he gets I love him !?? his romance for fem shep was completely fine and destroyed me at the end of 3 even with horizon (this is a whole separate thing but some of you willingly decide to not see he has some very valid points on horizon), and I love Thane too so I’m excited to see his romance now on my second play through but damn…

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part Three

For Xiantober Day Five: Past and Present, in which the author gets very unhinged about what parts of the past are shown and how that’s affected by the present!

(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)

The Power of Agency: Shaping the Narrative

When I've discussed Wei Wuxian's agency previously, I’ve talked about how what’s shown and omitted tells us about a character, and we’ve talked about the character himself. Though this is a niche topic, it’s not necessarily something out of the ordinary to analyse, and we can assume everything up to here has been in some way intentional.

This? Linking structure to a character’s in-universe preferences?

This is where we get unhinged.

Before I start, let’s quickly establish something which will be important later: although Wei Wuxian is the central character, MDZS isn’t strictly from his POV. While omitting events a character doesn’t like to dwell on and concealing things the character wishes to hide is common in books with only one narrator, MDZS has multiple narrators which it switches between relatively quickly. This includes Wei Wuxian, but it also includes nearly every major character that appears in the story, and omniscient narrator as well. As a default, this format doesn’t lead to this deliberate shaping and omission because of one character’s preferences, since we have many other sources of information and events – which is what makes Wei Wuxian’s influence over the narrative and structure so interesting. We could have access to a lot more information, and access to it at different times, than we do (and that’s not an insult, quite the opposite!).

To begin: we’ve established that times such as Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets, his three months in the Burial Mounds and his loss in the Siege aren’t shown because Wei Wuxian has little agency there. But that’s not the only special thing about them. They’re also the three most traumatic times in his life, and so moments Wei Wuxian himself either can’t remember, or doesn’t like to dwell on.

This is why discussing Wei Wuxian’s treatment of tragedy in his life was important. Firstly, it shows he doesn’t focus on the tragedy in his life, so the idea that the narrative not focusing on this tragedy relates to his character has merit; secondly, it affirms that this is not a passive trait, but a choice. Therefore, when the narrative omits events due to this aspect of Wei Wuxian, it’s respecting not only a character detail – which would be cool by itself – but also an active decision. One that shapes the story it’s made in.

In other words, its very structure is respecting Wei Wuxian’s agency!

Now, of course there are flashbacks to other moments of his past he probably wouldn’t like to dwell on, too. But within the structure, they’re only shown when Wei Wuxian is thinking about them (or when he has reason to)!

Wei WuXian hadn’t woken up yet. His eyes were still tightly shut, yet his hand didn’t let go either. He seemed to be dreaming, muttering, “… Don’t… Don’t be angry…” Lan WangJi seemed somewhat surprised. His voice was gentle, “I am not angry.” Wei WuXian, “… Oh.” Hearing this, as though he finally felt assured, his fingers loosened. Lan WangJi sat beside Wei WuXian for a while. Seeing that he was motionless again, he was about to stand up when Wei WuXian grabbed him with his other hand, hugging his arm and refusing to let go. He shouted, “I’ll go with you, quick, take me back to your sect!” Chapter 63, EXR translation

Which, of course, is him dwelling on…

Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.” Hearing this, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were surprised. Quickly afterward, Wei WuXian laughed, “Go back to Gusu with you? To the Cloud Recesses? Why go there?” He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.” Chapter 62, EXR translation

…the painful flashback immediately preceding this. The third set of flashbacks (which are also painful) are a similar case. Look at the contex:

He lifted the bottom of his robe, revealing a prosthetic leg made of wood, “This leg of mine was destroyed by you, that night in the Nightless City (…)” (…) “Wei WuXian, I won’t ask you if you remember or not. Both of my parents died by your hands. You owe too many people. You definitely won’t remember them either. But, I, Fang MengChen, will never forget! And never forgive you!” (…) “In the fight at Qiongqi Path, my son was strangled to death by your dog Wen Ning!” “My shixiong died by poison, his entire body festering due to your cruel curse!” Chapter 68 (immediately preceding the flashbacks), EXR translation

And Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts and words:

Wei WuXian looked at the cultivators before the Demon-Slaughtering Cave. Their expressions were the absolute same as those of the cultivators from the night of the pledge conference, pouring their wine on the ground as they took the pledge to scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants and him.  (…) Wei WuXian, “Now it’s time to ask just whom it is that treasures it so much. It’s like Wen Ning. Back then, some certain sects or so were scared to death of the Ghost General. They said they’d kill him on the surface, but behind their backs they hid him for over ten years. How strange. Who was the one that said his ashes had been scattered back then?” Chapter 79 (immediately succeeding the flashbacks), EXR translation 

Once again, Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts relate to the flashbacks we’ve just been shown. And, as I previously mentioned, though all the events which are shown are tragic, they’re also events which Wei Wuxian’s own choices and actions shaped – which he has this to say about:

“The things I did, not only do you remember them, I remember them too. You won’t forget them, and they’ll stay even longer in my mind!” Chapter 82, EXR

Admittedly, this applies more to the third set of flashbacks than the second (which is still fitting as the third set was the most recent), as in the second, although he still had agency within and influence over his circumstances, the majority of the pain was caused by others’ actions (excluding, of course, the Golden Core transfer… which is something we know stays for a long time in his mind, albeit with a caveat we’ll soon discuss). But it’s still important to note – especially considering that otherwise, focusing on this very painful time in his life wouldn’t seem like something very in-character for Wei Wuxian to do.

Of course, this can all just be explained by good writing. It is best to insert flashbacks when they’re relevant to the characters and events in the present day! But it is interesting to compare these to the start of the (not painful) Gusu flashbacks, which open this way:

At a later time, Wei WuXian pondered upon the reason why his relationship with Lan WangJi wasn’t good. Getting to the root of the matter, everything started when he was fifteen, coming to the GusuLan Sect with Jiang Cheng to study for three months. Chapter 13, EXR

Again, considering the circumstances around which these flashbacks take place – returning to the Cloud Recesses for the first time since the lectures, and meeting Lan Wangji once more – it makes complete sense for Wei Wuxian to be thinking about these events*. So it does fit the pattern of Wei Wuxian dwelling on something, thus leading to the narrative dwelling on it, too (and being shaped by his thoughts)… but there’s another layer to this. Importantly, it is the only flashback where Wei Wuxian’s present thoughts don’t lead to this happening, with his thoughts at an unspecified future time leading to it, instead. I like to interpret this as the text saying that, since these events aren’t something Wei Wuxian wouldn’t focus on in normal circumstances, he can dwell on them at any time. Therefore, they’re free to come up in the narrative at any time as well, even if he’s not dwelling on them in the present moment!

So, to summarise: Wei Wuxian’s decision not to focus on the painful times in his life directly influences the narrative to not focus on these times. When painful times are brought up and shown to us, it’s in the context of him thinking about them in the present day, and even then, his most painful moments still aren’t shown to us. His agency in this regard is still respected by the narrative structure.

This is the main way his agency influences the structure of the narrative, but I’d like to talk about the revealing and concealing of information, too. For example, I said I’d talk about the Golden Core transfer – though Wei Wuxian does think about this many times, as evidenced by his internal narration in Chapter 103. But unlike everything we’re shown through the flashbacks, this is something Wei Wuxian is actively trying to hide from others. And the narrative respects this choice (Wei Wuxian’s agency, again), never reveals it even when it would be relevant in the flashbacks, and we find out not through narration, but through a character’s dialogue!

And to clarify – I know these aspects may not be in the book for this exact reason. Showing flashbacks in relevant moments is good writing, concealing an important plot point you want to do a reveal for is necessary writing, and MXTX has said she didn’t want to write about Wei Wuxian’s time in the Burial Mounds, due to not liking to write transformation sequences (and also because it would not be pleasant at all, which likely also applies to Wei Wuxian’s death). That doesn’t prevent it from also being intentional – MXTX’s intelligence is shown in many aspects of this book, and there’s nothing disproving it – but there’s no proof for either option, so I won’t pretend there is. I bring this up because I know this feels like I’m overanalysing, as I feel that way as well.

But, whether it’s intentional or not, it exists in the text, and I adore it – so, regardless, it’s something I’ll explore. Because taking this into account… We aren't just told about Wei Wuxian having agency, we aren’t just shown it in the text, we aren’t even just shown it through which parts of his past are shown and hidden in the structure of the text (as I talked about in Part One). The parts of the past that are shown and hidden also have an in-universe reason for being shown and hidden, this reason being the choices he makes! Agency is the ability of a character to influence the story they’re in, but Wei Wuxian’s agency, as a property of a character who only exists in-universe, shapes the out-of-universe structure as well! That’s how we’re shown its importance! How cool is that?

At The End Of The Road: Summary and Final Thoughts

In this essay, we’ve covered how important Wei Wuxian’s agency is not only to the events of the plot, but to the structure of the narrative as well. The narrative omits periods in which Wei Wuxian has little or no agency, in favour of showing us periods in which he does, even when important events happened in the former. This indicates that who Wei Wuxian is without agency isn’t important enough to be shown to the audience, and therefore that his agency is an integral aspect of his character in MDZS. We’ve discussed how both in-universe and out-of-universe, tragedy does not define him – out-of-universe, the tragic events in Wei Wuxian’s life are used not to build sympathy but rather to show his strength of character and who he still is despite going through them; and in-universe, he chooses not to focus on the negativity and resentment caused by his circumstances or others’ actions, instead staying true to his moral compass and enjoying his life in the present day. Finally, we’ve also explored how this choice is another reason for the omission of certain events from the narrative, resulting in his agency shaping the story in a very literal way – it affects the out-of-universe structure, as well.

It’s quite fitting, for a story whose essence is about defying a conventional narrative – that of righteous clans rising up and defeating a great evil – and about a character who defies many conventional narratives on his own – that of status defining how skilled you could be, that for a golden core being necessary for cultivation and other paths being unavailable, that of a tragic but complete story of someone killed for staying true to their moral code (instead, that character returns to life and has a happy ending) – to have its own narrative play a role in such an important and interesting way.

(Or, if an image would be preferable:)

Thank you for reading!

(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)

--

*This strong relation to the present day circumstances is another reason I love the flashback placement so much (and why I think it’s such a loss both screen adaptions altered it so strongly)! 

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Being a student did not prepare me for the tremendous stress and guilt I feel being the doctor responsible for the care of precious animals.