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willbyersabyss · 11 days ago

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So what are Will's flaws?

Is Will totally perfect in every way? Is he a jealous saboteur? Or a secret third option... neither. Let's discuss Will's flaws and nuances!

1. Emotional suppression

Will avoids his problems. He hates talking about both his emotional and physical danger because he doesn't want to be treated differently. From a young age, he was taught by Lonnie that he shouldn't express his emotions because that makes him "sensitive" and "weak." So now he likes to hide.

This emotional suppression causes his feelings to worsen over time. Once he finally lets it out, he explodes. Instead of healthy conversations, he says and does things that he'll probably regret later. He blows up at Mike, he yells at Jonathan, he destroys Castle Byers, he shows his hand (what about us?)

Will's avoidance doesn't only have consequences on him, but others. If he had told someone he was feeling the Mind Flayer earlier, they might've been able to save some of the Flayed. But he couldn't tell someone because that puts him in a place of emotional vulnerability. That's exactly why he waited until after he fought with the boys to mention the supernatural. He traded one vulnerable situation for another, allowing him to avoid opening up about his true feelings. It was a distraction.

This also doesn't let others to heal from their altercations. Both Lucas and Mike try to apologize to Will, but he brushes them off. Will thinks he doesn't deserve consideration. The walls he puts up forces others to hold onto their own guilt, leaving a sore spot in their relationship. We can see this soreness in Will and Mike's relationship in s4. They never healed from the rain fight. Well... not that Mike tried to apologize after the Mind Flayer debacle. Again, distraction on Will's part.

Will’s inability to handle change is also due to him bottling up his feelings. His trauma and suppression makes him stuck in the past. He doesn’t let himself move through each day where these emotions would be felt.

It's interesting how Will is deemed the emotional one when his sensitivity is actually a result of him keeping his emotions in. Once that dam is opened, it's hard for him to stop. He breaks, just as he fears.

2. Self-hatred

And all that emotional suppression leads to Will internalizing other people's view of him. Will's self-hatred stems from bullying and his father's abuse. He thinks he's to blame, that he's a mistake. As more people distance themselves from Will, he believes there's something wrong with him.

When he thinks he deserves mistreatment, his relationships crumble more. They're unable to reconcile. True forgiveness can't be achieved if he doesn't think he should be apologized to in the first place.

Will's hatred is the reason why he tried to sacrifice himself in s2 to save his friends. He doesn't think he deserves to be saved. This makes him an easy target for Vecna. It's very likely that Will's self-hatred will factor into his upcoming supernatural plot.

The more Will hates himself, the more he hides, the more he suppresses his emotions.

3. People pleaser

If Will is anything, he's a people pleaser. He's selfless. So much so that this is the first thing we find out about him. While admirable, it actually leads to more bad than good. His people pleasing tendency goes hand in hand with his emotional suppression. Will doesn't like to take up space and inconvenience other people.

Will's never ending effort to please others leads to him making assumptions. Wrong assumptions. Whether it be letting Max join them on Halloween or pushing Mike to give a love confession, Will tries his best to use his mediator role to give people what they want.

But he doesn't know what they want, does he? Will wanted to make Dustin and Lucas happy, but this created a rift with Mike. He thought Mike was itching to profess his love for El, but that wasn’t what either of them needed. In an attempt to help, he's making it worse.

He must be successful sometimes, though, because there's an expectation from his friends that he'll fulfill their needs at the flick of a wand. This vacancy from Will makes him a pushover. They think they can make fun of him and he'll just take it because that's what he does. When Will finally stands up for himself, they're shocked. That's out of character for him. It's like they want to say: “Why isn't he letting us be mean to him? :(”

Mike even expected Will to tell him that his own girlfriend was being bullied. Will's people pleasing explodes in his face. So now when he's unable to read their needs and fix it for them, he's to blame. Will takes on the weight of their problems too much. While it's good that they rely on him, there shouldn't be pressure for him to judge their every whim. But it's not exactly their fault because Will set the stage for this behavior.

Weirdly, Will's need to please others is the reason why he didn't call Mike. He thought Mike wanted nothing to do with him, so he didn't reach out. There he goes assuming things again! But Will was there, waiting for the rare occasion where Mike did want him. He went so far right that he ended up left.

Will's behavior towards El is also an instance of wrong assumptions. Will didn't like being treated differently in s2, so he assumed El would feel the same way. He used his own experiences to inform how he should treat others. Babying El would make her feel more ostracized. Instead, he offered emotional comfort, similar to the comfort he received, after the bullying. This doesn't really help her because she doesn't have the same emotional mechanics as Will.

So Will assumes things, pushes his own wants down, and lets people walk all over him all in the name of being pleasant.

4. Freeze, fly, fight. In that order!

When Will is scared, he freezes. This flaw is so significant that they talked about it textually multiple times. I'm not sure I would consider it a flaw since it has saved him more than it's harmed him, though.

The few times Will has decided to fight instead of freeze, he was kidnapped and possessed. Confrontation isn't an option for him. His body believes he'll be put directly in danger if he does anything but freeze/fly. Fight is only used as a last resort.

It only really enters flaw territory when it's an inconvenience. He froze during the sauna test, when El was being bullied, and when he should've shot the creature in the shed. Will is unable to help himself and others when he's scared.

When he snaps out of it, he cries and feels guilty for being so hesitant. He wishes he could do more but he can't. This wraps back around to his self-hatred.

5. Jealousy

When his best friend of 10 years that he's in love with starts to ditch him for some random girl, it's not shocking that there would be some jealousy! Will is the silent jealous type. His jealousy doesn't really manifest into resentment or outward action against the other person. Unlike a certain someone...

Will only shows it through rolling eyes, a snarky comment here or there, or an outburst at his most emotionally vulnerable. I mean, if Will really wanted to see El crash and burn, he could've kept his mouth shut the entire Rink-O-Mania day. Or he could've ignored her in the courtyard as she picks up the pieces of her project. But he didn't.

The worst we've seen Will's jealousy was during the rain fight. He called El stupid. There's no beating around the bush, he was in the wrong for that. But this came out of Will because his emotions were at an all time high. Why? Emotional suppression!

A lot of Will's snarky comments towards El are out of genuine confusion. He doesn't understand how El can have exactly what he wants, but she's willing to ruin it by lying. Unfortunately, he later learns that exact lesson. He's envious that she can do what Mike hates without major repercussions, while he's somehow blamed for her lies. And why does he get blamed? People pleaser expectations!

Will waited until a quiet moment to inform El of her mistakes. Will's goal isn't to humiliate El. He doesn't let his jealousy lead to resentment. Instead, he tried to (snarkily) lead her to make better decisions because it's not fair! It's not fair that she can have it all without working for it!

And now we're back at self-hatred. Some of his jealous moments make it bubble back up. He bends his painting, something he put his blood, sweat, and tears into, because he isn't enough for them. Their ideal day is without him. Will's art is an extension of himself. He's aiming his anger back at himself by hurting his art.

All of his flaws connect back to his low self-esteem in some way. This is why it's important for Will to receive and accept love in his life. A big part of his arc is self acceptance.

So there it is in all its glory! All of Will's main flaws in one post. What did we learn? Will suppresses his emotions, hates himself, pleases others to a fault, freezes, and is green with envy. And he wouldn't be Will without 'em!

#will byers #byler #stranger things analysis

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malleleothreesome · 1 year ago

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Malleus who is pining after you...

🩷 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Malleus would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 🩷 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts, lots of romance, fluff, pining, and there is a single smut paragraph with masturbation as he reads a romance novel in the library ༶༶༶ 🩷 word count: 3.1k because he's the love of my life

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… confused, and left with no other option but to approach (a proud, hysterically laughing) Lilia, begging for an explanation as to why he feels so weak in your presence. Pouting as he awkwardly opens up to the old bat about how when he’s with you, his heart races and he stumbles over his words, even though he’s used to being so sure of himself. He trained diligently to be calm and collected as a future King should be, so why is it that a magicless human is able to bring him to his knees seemingly without even trying? How come none of his previous favorite activities feel as good as daydreaming about you or spending time with you?

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… now feeling more assured after his conversation with Lilia. Coming to terms with the fact that even someone like him can feel love, and it happened sooner than he ever anticipated. Still nervous and unsure of his feelings, but no longer afraid. He feels grateful that he could be gifted with such potent and beautiful emotions for the first time in his life, and he’s especially happy that he fell in love with someone as amazing as you. Now that he’s in love, he wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… mind in a constant state of disarray after being swept up in your hurricane. Battling against himself ceaselessly to stay focused on the task at hand as his thoughts desperately crawl their way back to you in spite of his better judgment. No matter what he’s doing, he can’t help but fantasize about what it would be like if you were there with him. As his pen taps against the paper on his table, his breathing quickens, unable to stop himself from wondering what it would be like to look over at you studying right alongside him, instantly enchanting the monotonous task with your bright presence. If he’s in a store, he always spends extra time looking around for objects you might like, smiling to himself as he imagines your reaction. If he’s in a conversation, he thinks about how you might interject, and how the conversation would be better thanks to your input. When he’s happy, he wants you to be the first one to know, hoping he could share in his excitement alongside you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… coming to terms with the highs and lows of loving someone who doesn’t know you love them. Pacing around his room, celebrating and replaying all the moments he made you smile. Hyping himself up whenever you ask him to spend time alone. He also chastises himself whenever you two share an awkward moment, or if he makes a joke that doesn’t land, letting the moment haunt him. Wishing he had done things differently, reassessing the situation and himself so that he could grow into someone worthy of you. The most dreadful moments are times he sees you having fun without him, getting dragged along by your other friends. Jealousy and despair rage through his veins as he works to convince himself not to feel angry toward you, reassuring himself that you don’t know any better – it was an honest mistake. You simply don’t realize how much it means to him to be in your presence, because he’s too afraid to let you know. He’s too afraid to gamble your love, only wanting to confess when he’s sure you have the highest chance of accepting him. He’s not willing to go back to a life without the love he feels for you. Tears well up in his eyes as he retires early to his bed, desperately wishing you would hold him in your arms and take the pain away. Longing to hear that you love him, too – that he doesn’t have to feel this way anymore. Closing his eyes and letting the tears fall like silent prayers, hoping with every fiber of his being that you won’t curse him to a lifetime without your precious affection.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… randomly showing up at Ramshackle dorm. He’ll use any excuse in the book to show up unexpectedly, at the very least, hoping to see your face, but also betting on the fact that you’ll invite him in. He’ll ask to borrow items a fae wouldn’t need. He’ll steal things from your backpack just so he can return them. He hopes he can catch you alone, so that maybe he can get closer to you, or at least learn something new. There are also times where doesn’t want to bother you, but feels too weak-willed to deny his overwhelming desire to bask in your presence. He stands outside, taking solace in being close to you, even if you don’t realize it. Letting a comfortable sense of calm come over him as he stands outside under the moonlight, feeling the breeze through his hair, content to know that you’re upstairs sleeping peacefully in your room. Taking care to protect your building just like a gargoyle would. He’s convinced himself that Diasomnia is simply too far away from where you are, and what if something happened to his beloved child of man and he wasn’t there to protect you? Such a thing would torment him as long as he lived. So, he stands guard outside your room, just in case you need anything. He can at least do that much. He feels honored to be your protector, even though you’re completely unaware.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… sitting beside you on a bench outside. His whole being overcome with butterflies, heart pounding out of his chest, feeling lightheaded as your hand slaps his thigh – your head thrown back in laughter from what he just said. He’s completely captivated as your melodic laugh reverberates through his soul. Unable to stop glancing at the way your thigh presses against his, feeling the electricity as your shoulders brush. Trying to memorize the way you look and sound in this very moment. He feels the air leave his lungs as your eyes meet his. Feeling like time has stopped as he stares into your eyes, trying to commit their beauty to memory. He feels his cheeks flush as he quickly turns away, not wanting you to see how flustered he is. You grab his shoulder, laughing, pulling him back toward you as you ask him to tell another story. He grins, trying to remember what it was like to breathe normally, and he obliges your request. A moment has never felt so magical, and he swears he'll remember the feeling until his last breath.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… spending hours in the library after class reading romance novels as a form of research for how he can make the best possible impression on you. He originally read these books out of necessity, desperately trying to avoid going to Lilia for more intimate advice. However, he finds far more enjoyment in the books than he anticipated, getting giddy over the words on the page as he imagines the story unfolding with the two of you as the protagonists. His eyes widen and his body temperature flushes hot when the tale takes an explicit turn, finding it harder and harder to keep his composure as he reads further. Feeling his throat go dry at the thought of doing such things with you, he tries to calm himself down, fanning his face with the book. He imagines the way your lips would taste and the softness of your skin, how you might sound moaning his name, how it would feel to be inside of you. He can hardly stand the tension as he reaches down and palms his lonely cock through his pants, letting a desperate moan escape from his lips as he struggles to hold himself back. He quickly looks around to make sure no one is there, then returns his attention to the book. He almost feels guilty for imagining his innocent beloved in such a naughty way. He wants nothing more than to be respectful to you, so it seems wrong to undress you and pleasure you in his mind, yet his needy, aching cock convinces him otherwise. He closes his eyes and continues to massage himself through his clothes as he lets the scene unfold in his mind. He imagines how you would look beneath him, panting and writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into you. He wonders if you would like it if he were to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer as you ride him, or if you would prefer if he were to pin your arms above your head while he fucked you into the mattress. His breathing quickens as his fantasy intensifies, feeling his body tighten up as he nears his climax. The pleasure is so intense, he feels unable to stop himself from going over the edge despite the uncomfortable circumstances. He lets out a quiet groan as his hips involuntarily thrust into his hand, feeling himself release into his pants. As he comes back to reality, his face burns red in embarrassment at the fact that he just did that in the library, but also with the realization that he wants to do all of that and more with you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… sitting down with Sebek’s parents to interview them about their human/fae relationship. He wants to feel completely prepared and educated about all the pros and cons. He desperately wants to have the best chance of winning your affection. He asks them what it was like when they first met, how they handled the differences in their species, and how they confessed their love. He wants to know everything. He listens intently to every word, taking detailed notes and asking questions when he doesn’t understand. He asks about the most challenging parts of their relationship, and how they overcame them. He asks how they knew their love was true, and how they know it still is. He wants to feel as confident as possible that he can make this relationship work, because he knows it will be his last. If he loses you, he would never be able to love another, so he needs to take all the steps possible to ensure a life by your side. He desperately wishes his own parents could have been alive to walk him through it, but in their absence, he is grateful to have the first couple of their kind as a support network. He thanks them profusely, even going as far as to hug them and offer gifts, insisting on returning their time and effort tenfold for the advice and kindness they gave him. Sebek's doting mother cries a little, telling him that he has grown into a fine young man, and that he deserves to find happiness. The fae Prince flushes in embarrassment, offering her a heartfelt thanks and bowing his head respectfully. As Sebek's parents see him out, they tell him that if he ever needs anything, they're there for him, and to not hesitate to contact them if he has any questions. They can't help but smile to themselves as they watch the normally confident Malleus walk away, his shoulders and head drooped down in nervousness as he contemplates his future. They hope that you and him will find eternal bliss in each other's embrace.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… walking around Briar Valley, getting to know his future subjects. He wants to know how his fae subjects feel about the presence of humans, how they might feel if there were to be a human ruler alongside him, and if they would be willing to accept a human/fae child as their next heir. He will do what it takes to prepare his subjects for the new age, trying to get ahead of any problems before they arise. He is especially curious about the older generations, and what they might think of him as a leader. He doesn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and he wants to honor his parents' legacy by creating a safe, secure future for their kind. He wants to bring about a world where humans and fae can coexist, where children of both species can grow up with mutual respect. He goes out of his way to form relationships with the humans who reside in Briar Valley, diligently learning how best he can serve them as the future King. His purpose is to make his kingdom a safe haven for humans to live in hopeful anticipation that you'll one day soon choose to live there with him. He listens to his human subjects' concerns, offering advice on their difficulties, and promising to enact new legislation that would benefit them. He makes it abundantly clear that he values the human residents of his kingdom and is committed to ensuring that their lives are better than they were before. He tells them that their children will not only be able to live in harmony with the fae, but that they will thrive. He wants to give them a world that you would be proud to call home. He is eager to show you that he can be a great King, and that he is worthy of your love and affection. He feels a sense of pride when he sees the humans' faces light up as he shares his plans for the Kingdom once he takes the crown.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… appearing before his grandmother Maleficia’s throne, secure and ready to finally confess to you. Unwilling to let anything else stand in his way, he begins telling her – not asking her – with the utmost respect and authority, leaving no room for discussion that he has fallen hopelessly in love with a human. He needs her to trust him – her only grandson – as he gives his heart and devotion to a member of the very species that took everything from her. His hands are shaking yet his eyes never falter, his determination to love you against all odds burning bright in his heart. He has made up his mind and he won't be taking any objections. He tells her about you, your kindness, your charisma, and your integrity. He wants her to know how lucky he is that a pure-hearted being like you would have chosen someone like him to befriend, to place your faith and trust in. He eagerly explains all the ways you've changed him for the better, and how he wants to devote his life to protecting you, and growing by your side. There has never been another that can light up the night sky with the same level of brightness as your beautiful smile, or whose laugh could fill the vast empty space between the stars. He tells her he wants to give you the best life he can possibly provide, and he hopes she will come to accept and love you just as he has. She sits in shock, unable to respond. The anger she feels is indescribable, as she can't believe her grandson, her own flesh and blood, could betray her and his mother like this. She thought she raised him better than this – to be stronger than the temptation of a human. And now, he stands before her, looking her dead in the eye and telling her he wants to be with one of them. She can't bear the thought of losing him, yet she knows it's inevitable if she were to deny him his wish. The look in his eyes is something she has never seen in him before – pure conviction. She can’t control him any more. His love for you has given him a strength she never knew he had. As much as she hates to admit it, he is happier than she's ever seen him. The confidence in his voice, the glimmer in his eye, the determination in his step – it reminds her of her daughter. Malleus always bore a striking resemblance to his mother, but he has never looked more like her than he does right now, defying Maleficia's wishes in pursuit of happiness. She knows she can't change his mind, so she sighs and waves her hand dismissively, telling him he can do as he pleases. The anger in her veins dissipates as Malleus begins to walk out of the throne room, and she feels compelled to tell him how proud his mother would be, despite it all. She tells him that his mother hated humans, but she loved him more. Malleus can't help the tears that escape his eyes, thanking his grandmother for her blessing, feeling accomplished and complete. Now all that's left is to tell you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… breathes new life into the cold castle, ready to fill the halls back up with love for the first time in centuries. Gazing up at the blank castle walls, smiling to himself as he imagines them adorned with picture frames of the two of you on your wedding day, or of you holding your child together for the first time, or even just simple, happy memories like picnics or holidays. He feels warmth in his chest as he pictures the two of you standing by the window, admiring the sunset and reminiscing on all the years you've spent together. For the first time in his life, he comes to see the castle not as a prison, but as a home. A place where the two of you will live out the rest of your days, raising children, and creating beautiful memories that will be cherished forever. Every room he passes elicits a lovely new vision. He steps into the study, one of his favorite places as a child, running his fingers along the ancient bookshelves, excited at the prospect of rereading old favorites with your head nestled under his arm, the two of you snuggled up on the cozy couch. He peeks his head into the ballroom and music begins playing in his head as he imagines holding you close, feet gliding as you two spin around the room, the candles surrounding the area casting a perfect glow on your blissful smiles, as you lose yourself in each other's eyes. In the dining room, he envisions the two of you sitting across from each other at the grand dining table, flashing flirty eyes in each other's directions, stealing the last bite from each other's forks with kisses and laughs. As he wanders aimlessly through the long, winding hallways, the past merges with his vision of the future, and the two mix perfectly. It's difficult to feel alone anymore. It's no longer the chilled, looming emptiness that Malleus knew before. Now, it's a sacred, protected place that is waiting for your life, and love, to be poured into the rooms until it's finally brimming with the warmth and laughter of family again. All you have to do is say yes.

Oop, I just spent the past 8 hours straight working on this start to finish. Idk if I'm proud of it. I am exhausted. Usually I write complete stories, but I wanted to try my hand at writing my thoughts in a more raw format. If my editor were here, she would never allow me to write paragraphs this long, but I don't feel like waiting for her to edit. It's 2 am and I just want to free myself and release this into the world. Hopefully I don't regret this in the morning. Sorry for any grammar mistakes or weirdly long sentences. If you enjoyed, first of all, thank you! Second of all, if you want more content like this, please let me know! Currently, I only write for Malleus, Leona, & Fellow but feel free to come convince me in my ask box to get invested in other characters. I’d love to hear your thoughts about your faves or my faves. 🩷 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia smut #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #malleyuu #twst imagines #my writing

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d3add0vedonoteat · 10 months ago

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Chicken Soup for Carmy

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ harsh language, sexism and violence in one scene (not from Carmy). Hurt/comfort, fluff.

A/N: I’m literally feral for this man. I’m sick atm and I started thinking about taking care of Carmy while I was making chicken soup. Bonus combo with Carmy protecting you from an asshole customer. Not proofread bc my brain is rotting. Plz be nice this is my first time posting a fic 🥺

It was cold. You braced yourself against the harsh Chicago wind as you made your way briskly down the street. After a late night phone call from your brother sent you into a spiral, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning all night until finally, at 4am, you flung off the covers and got dressed. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d come here. This place consumed all your mind and your heart since you started working here a few months ago. You used your key to unlock the door in the alley, sighing with relief as the warmth of The Beef welcomed you inside. It was quiet, the lights were down, it was peaceful. You slipped off your sneakers trading in your kitchen clogs and tucked your things safely away in your locker. You tied your handkerchief on your head as you moved. It was so comforting, the routine of The Beef’s prep work. You felt so at home, moving from the prep area to the walk in, diligently beginning the tasks that didn’t need to be started for a few more hours. He would understand. You thought to yourself as you began to prepare fresh stock for the day. He was a man after your own heart, your boss, Carmen Berzatto.

Avoidant, chaotically emotional, one wrong thing away from a complete meltdown, that you both disguised as workaholic tendencies. As you finely chopped onions, your mind quieted. Everything was shut out except for the task at hand. Your brother’s angry voice on the phone accusing you: “you never come home! You don’t even care about us! You can’t take come take care of your own mother?!” was drowned out by the rhythmic pound of your knife on the cutting board. You were in the zone.

Until a voice startled you out of your bubble. “Chef?” You jolted, looking up at the man before you. Carmy’s hair was messier than usual, the bags under his eyes were deeper and more purple. His lips were parted with each soft breath he took. He gave you a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh-” your mouth felt dry and you tripped over your words, as usual when he set those intense blue eyes on you. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Carmy nodded, not pushing you any further. All he said before moving toward the office was a simple: “Heard, Chef.”

You watched him go, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the labor of his normally spry step. There was no mistaking it, Carmen was sick. You stared at the office door for a long moment before you made up your mind.

You set a heavy bottomed pot on the stove with some olive oil. Your hands moved with well practiced efficiency as you chopped garlic and onions, celery and carrots. The garlic and onions went in first. Then the celery. A sprig of thyme and a dash of white wine. While that simmered you quickly seared some chicken breast and chopped it into perfectly bite sized pieces. All into the pot with chicken stock and water, tightly covered to develop the flavors. Next came the pasta. You cracked eggs into the well of flour, mixing and kneading until it became a smooth golden dough. You carefully, tenderly rolled the dough and cut it into thick, short noodles. A bath in hot water to cook, then they too joined the pot. In no time at all, you were ladling a generous portion into a bowl. You set a toasted piece of chibatta on the side, grabbed a spoon, and took a deep breath in an attempt to settle your nerves. Softly, you knocked on the office door.

“Yeah?” His voice responded.

“Chef?” You entered, nervous. Words failing you as they so often did in his presence, you set the bowl before him. Carmy’s eyes widened. The aroma made his mouth water. He looked to you, gaze softening. “You made me chicken soup?”

Your cheeks grew warm. “Y-yeah, I mean chicken soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Carmy couldn’t believe you. You noticed? He smiled at you. You were so beautiful. You were always so confident and sure on the line, delegating with efficiency, respect, and authority. He had hired you the second you stepped into The Beef. Your resume was impressive but there was something in the way you carried yourself that truly earned the golden reputation you had in the culinary industry. But you were different with him, in the occasional moments like this where it was just you and him. Shy, almost bashful, gentle, and soft. He loved it. He wanted more of it. He lifted the spoon, bringing a bite to his lips.

“Gotta get a little of everything.” You muttered, eagerly awaiting his response.

Carmy shot you a sideways smile. It was good. No, it was better than good. The warm broth slid down his throat and each bite exploded with a depth of flavor he couldn’t believe. It was pure comfort. It reminded him of being a little kid staying home sick from school. Curled up on the couch while Jerry Springer played, eating crackers and ginger ale until his mom would bring a bowl of chicken noodle soup. But this soup, your soup, was more than that. People always talk about cooking with love but he swore he could taste it. Each ingredient had been so carefully handled. Perfectly chopped vegetables, moist and flavorful chicken. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he inspected the bowl.

“Did uh, did you make this pasta fresh?” He asked, eyeing you.

“Yeah, it’s better that way.” You blushed.

“Thank you, chef.” He said. “It’s really, really good.” Carmy looked down, suddenly feeling heavy. The fear of closeness set into him and all he could think about was how he’d fuck this up. “You-you didn’t have to make this for me.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” You insisted. “It was no big deal.” You began to leave, giving him one last truthful smile. “I like taking care of you.”

“I like taking care of you.” Your words rattled through Carmy’s mind all day. Throughout all of lunch, prep, and dinner he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. The soup you had made was the first thing he’d eaten in too long. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him and you’d just done it because you noticed he wasn’t feeling well. No motive, no games, just tender love and concern.

Love.

Carmy shook his head to try and shake the thought from his mind. No, no, no there was no way you actually cared about him. Not like that. You were just being nice.

That’s just who you are; nice. You were always so kind. The way you’d help Marcus workshop pastries, the way you’d make Tina laugh and listen to her talk about whatever trouble Louis had gotten in, how you’d encourage Sydney and remind her that she can do this. Even the way you’d throw snark right back at Richie or how’d you’d always set aside a portion of Family for Fak and Sugar, even Pete. You were always thinking of others. Carmy wasn’t special.

Yeah. Not special.

Carmy insisted the thought as he scrubbed the grill. Not special. Not special. Not special.

“Carmy?” There you were. You were always there. You had a thick denim jacket on, bag on your shoulder, knit beanie pulled down over your hair. Your brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmy shook his head. “I’m fine… you uh- you heading out?”

You shrugged, hoisting your bag a little higher on your shoulder and eyeing him skeptically. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, in a bit.”

You chuckled, more exasperated than humorous. “No.”

“What?” Carmy asked, confused.

“No, you’re leaving too.” You insisted. You were feeling bold. Months of long looks and his hand on your lower back every time he passed you had culminated tonight.

You had taken over the front for Richie while he ducked out to take a call from his daughter. You’d insisted. It was slammed for dinner but everything was going fairly smooth until an irate customer approached you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d asked, slamming his plate onto the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean are you retarded or something?” He continued. You were stunned into silence. You had never had anyone speak to you like that. “How hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? I know your tits are bigger than your brain but Jesus fucking Christ it’s not hard!”

“I-I…” you were shaking. “I’m sorry that you’re not satisfied, sir. If you like, we can-”

“Not satisfied?!” He screamed. “How can I be satisfied with this piece of shit!”

He hurled the sandwich at you. It hit you in the chest, toppings and sauce splattering everywhere. Before you even knew what was happening, a blur of messy curls shot past you. Carmy launched over the counter, tackling the man. His fist collided with the man’s face over and over while Richie and Fak rushed after him. There was a cacophony of yells as Richie pulled Carmy back. “Get your girl!” Richie yelled. “Cousin! Go get your girl!”

Fak and Richie dragged the man out and threw him into the street. Carmy’s hands grasped your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He wiped the sauce splatters from your brow. “Look at me.”

Carmy burned with anger as he watched you shake. Your white shirt and blue apron were covered in the sandwich. He imagined what you would do for him if he was in your position. How you’d care for him, how you’d tend to him… so he tried to do what you would. Gently he guided you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist. He practically carried you to his office where he sat you on the couch and quickly went to grab a clean shirt from his own locker. You were in the same place he left you when he returned. Carmy knelt before you, taking your face in his hands once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears welled in your eyes and you collapsed into his arms. He smoothed his hand over you back, repeating “it’s okay” over and over again. He felt like he was on fire. The feeling of you clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, the smell of you, how you fit in his arms… it was too much. He wanted to run away and never speak to you again. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to find the piece of shit that yelled at you and rip him to pieces. He wanted your chicken soup every time he was sick.

All those feelings were closing in on Carmy once again as he stared at you across the kitchen. You still had his t shirt on. You were looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, uh… what did you say?” Carmy’s voice was softer than he expected.

“I said I’ll walk home with you.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. Ive got to-“

“Carmy,” you stepped closer. Your voice was firm but so tender. “You need to get some rest. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Alright…” he conceded.

The two of you braced yourselves against the cold and hurried down the sidewalk side by side. You argued about who would walk who home. Carmy insisted on walking you to your apartment but you protested on the grounds that he’d just go back to the restaurant once he dropped you off.

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you have to call me when you get to your place so I know you made it home!”

Carmy looked at the ground, smiling. The warmth in his chest from your soup was steadily turning into a molten pool of lava.

“Heard.” He grinned. You wanted to know he’d made it home. You wanted to make sure he rested. I like taking care of you.

“Well, I’m just up here.” Your voice stopped his thoughts from spiraling before it could even start. Carmy’s brow furrowed. “What?” You asked, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.

“You live over there?”

“Yeah? Like a block down?”

There was a beat of silence before Carmy let out a breathy laugh. “I live right there.” He pointed to the building on the other side of the street.

“No shit!” You laughed in earnest. Your hand came to rest on his arm. “Guess I’m gonna be walking you home more often.”

Carmy’s entire body was on fire. He could imagine the tingle of your soft hand on his skin through all the layers of clothing. He wanted to hold you close again like in his office, but this time you wouldn’t be crying. A deep pit opened in his stomach. How long before he made you cry? How long before he fucked it all up? Until you hated him and quit the restaurant and everything fell apart because he-

“Hey,” your voice. Always your voice that brought him back. When he looked over at you it was like everything but your face faded into a blurry background. You were all Carmy could see. “Do you want to come to mine? I haven’t eaten and I KNOW you haven’t either.”

Carmy’s heart fluttered. “O-okay.” He started, his confidence rising when he noticed your hand was still in his arm. “Only if you let me cook you something.”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “I’d never turn that down!”

Carmy chuckled, feeling lighter for the first time in years as he walked so close beside you that your shoulders brushed. “It won’t be as good as your chicken soup.”

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader #hurt/comfort #sickfic #carmen berzatto fluff

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yaksha-lover · 7 months ago

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octavinelle won the poll, so here y’all go

cw: yandere octavinelle x reader, marine researcher au

It was your legs, they said, which first enraptured them.

They’d never seen human legs before, not so close that they could reach out and stroke across the lustrous skin. Their slimy, web-like hands squeezing the plush of your thighs, sliding down to drag their sharp claws gently over your calves, before moving to your feet, fascinated by the rotation of your ankles.

You’d shuttered at the touch, but back then, you’d told yourself that all their curiosity would be worth indulging in if it meant completing your research project. You were just lucky to have encountered mermen actually willing to work with you.

But that was the thing - it was never just a simple touch. Azul was better than the twins, but even he pushed your boundaries when he knew he could get away with it.

It was a simple trade, a quid pro quo: they’d teach you about mermen, and you’d teach them about humans. It was entirely fair, Azul had said, that if you were poking around in their business, they should be allowed to understand yours as well.

Unfortunately for you, they were all hands-on learners.

A question from Jade about hamstrings turned into a graze of claws along your thigh, exploring wherever he wished. At the beginning, you might’ve assumed he was the most normal of his group. He’d feigned respect, apologizing for the inconvenience, but the glint in his eyes and the serrated teeth peeking out behind his gentle grin made you think twice.

Azul’s ‘fascination’ about mammalian swimming capabilities was his excuse to get you into the ocean, his tentacles poking and prodding at your flesh curiously. He’d even generously offered to carry you in his many arms: only once he’d forced you too far out into the ocean for you to fight against the current, of course.

Floyd didn’t care to keep up the same pretences as Jade and Azul. If he wanted his part of the exchange to be dragging you out into the ocean and watching you struggle until he swooped in to save your exhausted body from drowning, he’d do it. He’d laugh in your face too, making sure to take his sweet time getting you back to shore, while being sure to make himself comfortable cuddling you into him when you were too tired to tell him to give you some space.

Even then, you’d tell yourself it was worth it. Not just listening to them, but really living with mermen gave you the chance no other researcher had ever had.

Sometimes it wasn’t so bad.

You had to admit, Azul’s surprising neediness sent a pang of guilt to your heart for being separated from him for so long on the days you returned to your lab to report your findings to your supervisor. You’d let him cling to you those days, his tentacles gripping across your entire body, as you reassured him that you wouldn’t just disappear one day.

Jade was a surprisingly good listener and a thoughtful conversationalist. He was perfectly content to let you ramble and complain about your manipulative boss or terrible pay, as long as you allowed him the pleasure of resting your head on his lap, his fingers combing through your hair, unexpectedly mindful of his claws.

Even Floyd had his good days, when he was satisfied by you hanging onto his shoulders, his arms gripping your thighs as he gave you a ride across the coast, ensuring he stayed high enough up for you to comfortably keep your head above water.

You’d become so comfortable with them, it was hard to see what was becoming of your relationship with the mermen. The change from low-tide to high-tide went unnoticed, as you sank into the depths, not realizing your mistake until there was nothing left for you to do but thrash helplessly.

It began when Azul started bringing you gifts. He’d gotten progressively more shy, the more he got to know you, the savvy businessman front he’d thrown up falling away to something else. He wasn’t really any less manipulative, but this time he used his emotions to prey on your kindness instead.

You were lucky enough to have gone into your research knowing more about mermen courting rituals than the average human, giving you the sense to try and put up boundaries between you and Azul. No matter how much you cared for each other, your relationship was one of professionalism, as upon your initial agreement.

Azul had only pouted and proceeded to sulk. How could you not accept his gift of a iridescent seashell? He’d gotten it just for you, it was beyond rude to reject it after all the trouble he went through. And here he was, presenting it to you without the expectation of anything in return. That was rare for him, to be so altruistic.

He’d suggested he might be tempted to hide away forever with his embarrassment, forcing you to accept his gift, despite your hesitancy. Your boss had been very clear that messing up this project meant the termination of your job, and that wasn’t something you could afford right now.

The shell certainly was beautiful, but that only made things worse. Azul absolutely insisted that you keep it with you at all times, so to keep him happy, you’d strung it on a neckless to wear.

Spotting it on your neck only made Floyd pout, and the cycle of upsetting and caving to the needs of your mermen began again.

Jade wasn’t as jealous as Floyd, so he didn’t demand anything extra of you, even after noticing the ‘claim’ Azul had placed on you with his courting gift. He was perfectly happy to watch you squirm under Floyd’s attentions, though.

Floyd had insisted that it wasn’t fair. Azul had gotten to breach that line with you, cross a boundary you’d set for them long ago. That meant you must favour him, right? That wasn’t very nice of you, Shrimpy. Better do something to make it up to him, to show Floyd that you like him just as much as Azul.

Careful, Jade had warned, Floyd tends to be much less…kind, when he doesn’t get what he wants.

That was all it took for you to cave, allowing Floyd to push back your shoulders so that you laid flat against the wet sand, the waves brushing gently against your ankles every few seconds.

He quickly pushed up beside you, slimy hand taking your cheek in his palm and brushing his thumb across your lips as he turned you to face him. You’d only had a second to catch a glimpse of his thrilled look before he crashed your lips against his own.

Soft lips parted your own and a long tongue pushed into your mouth, his sharp teeth almost catching on your flesh.

Floyd pulled back after he was satisfied, grinning at you and promising to come back with a special treat for you later, before diving back into the ocean and disappearing.

A soft chuckle reminded you that you weren’t alone. Floyd always was impatient, Jade had admonished. You’d barely noticed him creeping closer. But now that you’d given his brother and Azul something, he’d admitted to feeling left out.

A kind soul like yourself would hate to let that go on, wouldn’t you?

As your shoulders were gently laid in the sand once again, it was Jade’s form which hovered over you this time.

#tw: yandere #twst x reader #azul x reader #jade x reader #floyd x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #octavinelle x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst #twisted wonderland

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catsushizz · 5 months ago

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Soon you'll get better - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: Spencer's life was perfect until one dreaded visit from the doctor. Your life was measured in only seconds, you have cancer.

Warning: inaccuracies in the medical parts, cursing, no happy ending

WC: 2.8k

Angst

A/N: listen to so many songs for this, mainly Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey and Soon You'll Get Better by Taytay.

____

Spencer basks in the feeling of you in his arms even though he is trying to hold back his tears knowing he only has a few moments left with you here on Earth. Worrying about losing you is different when he knows he is going to lose you.

Your hands were intertwined as he kissed your knuckles, God, Cancer's a bitch. Spencer held you tightly as he heaved a sigh, his eyes were glossed and he felt bile rise in his throat.

He stifled his sobs knowing that you needed your sleep. Whatever thing he had done in the past, it couldn't have been that bad to make him deserve this kind of treatment from God. Was it because he didn't believe him?

He finds himself praying every night, desperate people find faith so now he prays to God hoping and begging to make you live longer. Longer until your hair turns grey.

"Soon you'll get better" he whispered as if it were a prayer "You need to" his voice cracked as his tears continued to flow, you slept peacefully unaware of his dilemma.

You've been together for so long, 5 years dating then later on married for 3 years. His life was perfect for so long but one visit from the doctor destroyed his world.

Spencer said you should get it checked, you thought he was being dramatic but he insisted anyway.

The morning after the news, he wished it was a dream when you sat him down on the bed, worried in his voice when you grabbed his hand and grief he felt when you spoke.

"I- I have cancer," you said, swallowing hard when his grip on your hand loosened.

"What?" He whispered, heart in his throat every second you give him silence "You can't be serious, Angel" he said in disbelief, standing up from the bed to look at you properly, and when he read your behavior his heart dropped.

You shook your head as you held back your tears, you needed to be strong for him. Raking his fingers through his hair, his breathing becoming more shallow as he looked for any indication that this was all just some sick joke, you liked pranking him, it's a horrible prank but he would forgive you.

"I have Osteosarcoma..." Spencer felt his breath hitched at your words. He had a question at the tip of his tongue but he didn't feel like questioning it afraid of the answer.

If it's stage 1 or 2 it might be curable he held on to that hope, clung to it like it was his lifeline. Sensing his question through his eyes, you answered.

"It's stage 3 Spence" you muttered, your voice thick with emotions. He staggered backward, tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

"The doctor must've mistaken your scan for somebody else's o- or there must be an error, yeah that must be it" he stammered, his mind going faster than his mouth knowing that Doctors make mistakes like that but he knows the statistics of doctors making mistakes when giving the results are slim to none.

And when you didn't reply, he cried. His hand flew to his mouth a sob forcing its way out. You immediately stood up and engulfed him in a hug as you cried, you felt his shoulder shake against you, his sobs becoming more broken the longer he hugged you.

You barely see Spencer cry, but when he does cry the sound of his cries goes straight to your heart, this time he sounded so broken and alone and you made sure to make him feel less alone by whispering 'I'll be okay'

Spencer felt stupid for crying, he should be the one comforting you not the opposite but he couldn't help it, the thought of you leaving him destroyed him, he would trade anything else if it meant saving your life.

Spencer felt his world crashing that night, he cried so much he felt like he might pass out.

---

Baking was always your favorite it makes you feel at peace but now you need assistance as you cook which doesn't only make you sad, it makes you more burdensome to Spencer. You smiled at Spencer as he leaned himself on the counter.

He had a frown on his lips as he looked at you "Are you sure you want to stop your chemotherapy?" He asked and you sighed as you washed your hands getting the sticky dough off your hands.

"Come here, darling," you say softly. He pushed himself off the counter and made his way towards you, immediately engulfing you in a hug.

He held you delicately afraid that if he touched you tightly you'll vanish. "If money's the issue- it's not even an issue, love" he muttered as he trailed kisses to your shoulder and your neck.

You chuckled "It's futile, Spence. You of all people should know that, I did chemo for 5 months and it didn't work" you whispered as you nuzzled yourself into his chest. You thought the chemo did you justice only to know that it got worse. Chemo didn't work.

Spencer knew, of course, but he'd like to think that little hope could somehow save your life even if the percentage laughed at his face.

"I know... But it makes you stay here longer" he ran his fingers through your skin, from your hands to your arms. He noticed your skin change every time, it became more pale and his heart couldn't handle it.

Every day he can't stop himself from thinking that it might be your last and it's killing him. He doesn't know what he would do if you were to be gone from his life. The family you created was something he treasured so dearly in his heart and he got used to loving you so much that it became his oxygen at some point.

You smiled sadly "Okay... I'll start again" you finally said. He pulled away from the hug to look at you properly.

"you mean it?" He asked, and you laughed at his shocked expression "Yes, Spence I mean it, cross my heart hope-" he clasped his hand to your mouth making you laugh even more.

"Don't you dare finish that" he said and he had a small smile on his lips. You licked his palm and successfully made him pull away from you.

"Oh, stop acting like it disgusts you, you kiss me plenty of times" you grumbled when you saw his disgusted face.

"That's not what I'm worried about, I didn't wash my hands and you just licked it!" He exclaimed. Your heart swells in adoration at his statement.

You laughed and Spencer committed that to memory, carved it in his mind. Seeing you laugh and not hunch yourself in pain is refreshing to Spencer, he can't bear seeing you in pain.

----

You were tucked beside Spencer on the couch your head on his chest, dried tears on your cheeks as you heaved in a sigh. Every movement you make feels like torture.

Spencer didn't know what to do he felt helpless, but having him by your side throughout all of this had brought you comfort more than ever.

You dragged your hands across his chest rubbing gently the movement brought small pain to your joints but you didn't mind. He grabbed your hand, stopping your movement as he rubbed circles on your skin.

"You okay?" He asked, gentle as ever.

You hummed "I'm fine" you mumbled.

Lie. He knows you're in so much pain right now and he wished, God, he begged to make it all go away. Make it go away as easily as the wind takes the leaves.

"I love you" you whispered, his heart flipped out of fear. His lips parted then closed and you felt him hold you closer.

"Please don't make it sound like it's gonna be the last time you'll say it" his breath shuddered as he said it, lips trembling and voice cracking. He had felt his heart break a thousand times when you said you loved him.

You saying 'I love you' doesn't feel the same anymore, it feels different. He wants it to feel warm, not cold, and not think it will be the last.

You frowned "I'm sorry, I don't mean it to sound like that, Honey" Spencer wanted to cry but he already shed so many tears through his sleepless nights as he felt you press against him at night and think that he wouldn't be able to hold you this close for a long time.

"Don't apologize" he mumbled and kissed your forehead, his kiss lingering a bit longer.

Your hair was shorter, you insisted that he cut it and he remembered you laughing when he cut it too short. If your hair wasn't falling off every time you pulled it, you would've been so mad but at that moment you didn't care.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you cried and Spencer didn't hesitate to hold you in his arms and kiss every inch of your face.

"You look beautiful, you are beautiful, my gorgeous and brave wife" he whispered.

You cried and buried your face in the crook of his neck "You don't have to say that" you cried.

"It's true and I'm not letting you go until you believe it" he insisted and you've been stuck with him for a few hours before you believed him.

You watched the stars after that and he pointed to every constellation he sees and you listened, committing his voice into your mind.

----

Spencer listens to the monitor of your heart as he watches your chest rise and fall. His hand rests atop yours, his brows knitting together in concern.

The Doctor said he needed to be prepared. He's not. He can't breathe when you flutter your eyes open.

"Spencer?" You uttered slightly panicked, your throat dry as you looked around the room.

Spencer sniffled before clearing his throat "I'm here, Angel" he said softly as he met your gaze.

He sees you visibly relax and that brings comfort to his already broken heart.

"Hi," you sighed.

"Hey," he whispered. At that moment he didn't think you were in pain or under the dim light of the hospital. He remembers it like it was the first time meeting you all over again.

He sees your skin warm and vibrant again, your hair falling effortlessly over your shoulder, and your laugh sounds more alive. He thinks you'll sound and look like that if he lets you go.

His throat tightened and he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bopping as he looked down on your intertwined hands. You're the light of his life, but staying means your flame will eat itself up.

"Come here, please" you pleaded as you patted the space next to you, and Spencer had a hard time declining.

He climbed on the hospital bed, making sure to be as careful as ever, when he was comfortable he engulfed you in his arms.

It was silent for a while then he heard your weak voice "I don't want to leave" but he felt you were leaving already.

"I don't want you to leave either" and he broke down like the first time he found out your life was only to keep for a fraction of a second.

You wiped away his tears, fingertips shaking slightly "I love you until the day that I die, whether it'll be today, tomorrow, or the next day but I'll love you beyond death itself" you choked out.

Spencer cupped your face, he's accepting it even if it's painful, he had to.

"I love you, more than anything else in this world" he sobbed, locking his lips with yours. When you parted he rested against you, nose touching, he savored that feeling.

Loving you was easy, letting you go on the other hand is a different story. He thinks he won't be able to, not for a long time, not forever at all.

"I want you to know that you are so so loved, Spence. I have spent the majority of my life dreaming of loving someone and that so happens to be you and I wouldn't have had it any other way" you muttered, your breathing becoming more labored as you spoke.

Spencer pursed his lips as he closed his eyes tightly. He can't explain the pain he feels right now, can't explain how much it fucking hurts. You heard his sobs and you felt your heart crack.

"I can't do this without you" he stammered.

"Yes you can, you did it before" you mumbled, and he shook his head.

"That was before I got to meet you, my life didn't start until I met you" he whispered, sniffling, his eyes bloodshot from crying.

"That's not true" you insisted.

"It is" came his immediate reply.

A comfortable silence followed then you spoke again.

"Can you read to me please?" You mumbled.

He smiled and nodded "Sure, sweetheart" and so he read until you fell asleep. He didn't sleep, he lay awake on your deathbed wishing every moment was longer.

You flatline at 2:38 a.m he didn't call out for the doctor, he knows they can't save you so he held you closer and he cried to the point where he felt like throwing up.

Your body was cold, lifeless, and limp. He couldn't handle it so after an hour he finally called the doctor. Watched on the sidelines as the nurses checked your pulse and watched their eyes change in realization.

The doctor shook her head as she covered your whole body with the white sheet. Spencer looked away as he made his way to the bathroom.

He threw up, and the bitter taste lingered when he got out. His gaze grew lifeless as the hour passed. Derek picked him up from the hospital and the only thing Derek could describe him was 'he was a walking corpse'

....

The first night after your death, he wished he would dream of you but he didn't.

The next morning he woke up in an empty bed, and everywhere he walked around the house he could see any reminder of you.

Picture frames, flowers, vases, letters, mugs, and the list goes on.

When he makes breakfast he always prepares two plates and when he realizes that he is alone he spirals for an hour long or longer.

And when he goes to sleep he hugs your picture, wishing for the slightest amount of warmth from your things as he can but receives coldness in the form of an empty bed.

But when he finally dreams of you, he doesn't want to wake up.

You were sat on top of a hill, flowers surrounding you, your back facing him but he felt like you knew he was there so he sat down next to you.

Your hair wasn't short anymore, you weren't pale and most of all you didn't look like you were in pain. Your eyes were shut but you had a smile on your face.

"You need to eat more, Spence" you muttered with a smile as you meet his gaze. His eyes welled with tears when he heard your voice.

He tackled you in a hug and you yelped laughing as he looked down at you. You grin adoringly at him as you cupped his face with both of your hands.

"I can only see you once, my love," you said and he felt his heart drop, he wanted to see you every day.

"Are you in pain?" He asked as his knuckles graze your cheeks.

You shake your head "No" and he smiles "Good" he whispers as he lets a tear fall from his eyes. He was so happy to hear that.

"I love you so much," he said as he trailed kisses from your forehead, nose, cheeks, and to your lips. You giggled "I love you too," you said but this time your I love you didn't feel cold and it didn't feel like a goodbye.

"I want to be with you," he said through tears, you wiped them away gently your fingertips no longer shaking and that made him so happy.

"Soon but not now" you replied.

"Can I at least stay with you until I wake up?" He asked pleadingly.

You chuckled and nodded making him smile. His head was now resting on your lap as you played with his curls.

"Can you read to me, please?" He requested.

"Of course, my love" you whispered and he basked in your sweet voice, he wished he could record it so he could listen to it when he misses you which is every second of the day.

He didn't know how long he stayed with you but when he woke up you were gone and for the first few hours he just sat there and looked for your warmth again.

Spencer felt a part of him was taken away from him ever since you left.

He wanted you back, he wants his wife back.

---

Dividers from @cafekitsune ;D

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer x reader #x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #catsushizz writings #angst #derek morgan

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imperatorrrrr · 3 months ago

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new article/q&a about Nico Hischier just dropped.

best tidbits below:

Q: What moment in your life would you like to experience again? A: The moment when I stepped onto the ice before my first NHL game.

Q: Common misconception about hockey players? A: That goalies are a bit crazy for standing in goal and letting pucks get shot at them.

Q: Which sports star's training would you like to follow? A: I would be interested to know how Roger Federer trains.

Q: What title would you give your biography? A: From Little Valais to Big New York

Q: Last time you cried? A: After the World Cup final there were emotional moments and some tears were shed. I had never played in a final before, now I know what it feels like. And when you lose, the motivation for the next time is even greater so that you don't experience that feeling again.

Q: What didn't you eat as a child that you like to eat now? A: Onions! As a child I hated them, my mother was not allowed to cook anything with onions. And today I love them.

Q: Most emotional locker room moment? A: Difficult, because there were a few. Emotionally, it's not easy when players are traded during the season or coaches who have been with the club for a long time have to leave. These are not pleasant conversations as a team. In contrast, the moment when the playoffs are clinched, for example, is very special. That's why there is no one moment; in the locker room it's a rollercoaster of emotions.

Q: What advice do you give to young players who dream of the NHL? A: Don't be afraid to make mistakes, because you learn from them. Go your own way, have fun in training and in games.

Q: Are you afraid of getting older? A: No, I try to have the attitude of looking forward to what is still to come.

Q: Four weeks in a monastery or in prison – what would you choose? A: To the monastery, of course

Q: What could you never be persuaded to do? A: A dance competition

Q: What household chore do you put off the longest? A: Vacuuming

Q: What prank have your teammates played on you? A: In the locker room, your helmet is always on the top shelf. They put a cup of water underneath it. If you take your helmet off the shelf, you pour the water on your face. I found out a few years ago that this is a popular joke.

Q: When can you laugh at yourself? A: When I’m in a good mood I can always laugh at myself

Q: What are women better at than men? A: Oh, in many things. They are better at coordinating things, they can absorb a lot of information better and faster. Luckily there are women.

#Nico Hischier #New Jersey Devils #NJ Devils #Devils #NJD #if anyone wants access to the article just DM me #its been archived so you don't need to pay #love that Nico loves onions now #also his answer is literally just that one meme #WOMEN #his biography title!!!!#buddy YOURE IN NEW JERSEY THO #but Ill allow it #vacuuming secretly messy Nico headcanon continues to grow #tbt Bratter saying he had to wash Nico's dishes for him #I didnt include all the questions FYI

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g-hughes · 3 months ago

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Cover Art - L. Hughes

main masterlist || l. hughes masterlist || taglist

synopsis: Luke finds out that he's on the cover of his favorite childhood video game. inspired by seeing the pictures of the Hughes for the cover of NHL 25

word count: 1.3k

warnings: this was written in like half an hour so probably spelling mistakes.

The summer was slowly winding down. The fun and excitement of the lake house, started to turn into the dreadful packing and cleaning that came at the end of a not long enough summer. Most of the hockey players that had been inhabiting the house had left, heading back to their respective cities for the upcoming pre-season training. The Hughes brothers were doing everything they can to soak up the last couple of weeks before they were back living across North America.

You were sitting on the dock, your book carelessly left half open across your lap as you scrolled through social media. The calming sound of the water playing as background noise as you soaked up the morning sun. Jack and Quinn went to the rink for an early morning skating session, leaving their younger brother asleep in his bed. You didn’t blame the elder Hughes brothers, it was like waking a bear when it came to getting Luke up.

The quiet pad of feet on the wooden dock, pulled you out of your tik tok trance. A smile graced your features as you watched Luke, his hair disheveled peeking under the hood of the red Devils sweatshirt he put on, paired with black Devils gym shorts walk towards you. He plopped down unceremoniously in the chair next to you, squinting out at the water.

“Did they leave me again?” His voice was thick with sleep still. You nodded your head, “Assholes.”

You chuckled, putting your phone down next to you, “I think they would have an easier time waking the dead than you.”

“Rude,” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. You shook your head and stood up, knowing that your boyfriend needed to have a meal in his belly before he fully woke up.

“C’mon, I’ll make you breakfast.” You held your hand out to him, which he took. Luke sat down on one of the barstools as you moved around the kitchen to find what you needed to make breakfast. First thing you did was pull out a bowl of fruit, placing it in front of him.

“I think you should leave your suitcase and stuff here,” Luke said, picking out some grapes. He could never tire of you fitting into the lake house like you owned it. It was your second summer here, and it already felt like you had been here from the beginning. After last year, you had left some of your things here, so it would be easier to travel back once the season had ended.

“I already did leave some stuff here,” You responded, grabbing the carton of eggs out of the fridge.

“No I mean, like all your suitcases. Just leave them here like we do. We can get you new clothes and stuff back in Jersey.”

You turned and looked at him, “We do not need to buy me a whole new wardrobe when we get back to Jersey. I can take stuff back and forth.”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, “But you’d be like. . . moved in here. . . like the rest of us.”

“Luke Warren Hughes, is this you asking me to move into the lake house?”

“Well, if you-” Luke’s words were cut off by his phone ringing, his agent’s contact displayed across the screen, “Hold that thought, I gotta answer this.”

You nodded, watching Luke as he walked quickly out the backdoor, answering his phone. You couldn’t help but watch him as he paced around on the back deck. Even though Luke was locked into his contract for another couple of years with the Devils, you knew that nothing was for certain. It had been a difficult summer, watching as some of Luke’s closest teammates were traded away and shuffled around the country. He was never one to get over emotional about things, but you knew that some of these trades had him feeling sad.

When he came back inside, you did your best to pretend that you weren’t staring out the window at him, continuing to cut fresh veggies for an omelet.

“What was that about?” You asked calmly, your heart beating erratically in your chest.

“Chris, he uh. . . he said that EA sports contacted him,” Luke shoved his hands in his pockets. You looked up at him, “They’re working on the new edition of NHL 25, and they want me and my brothers to be on the cover.”

“What?” You asked in surprise.

Luke shrugged as he said again, “They want me on the cover.”

“Baby, you’re going to be on the cover,” You watched as the excitement slowly started to fill his eyes. A pink blush arising on his cheeks as the weight of the phone call and your words resonated in his brain. The video game that he had been playing since he was a child. The video game that he spent hours playing with his brothers, his best friends, and teammates, wanted him on the cover.

“I'm gonna be on the cover,” Luke smiled.

“You’re going to be on the cover!” You rounded the kitchen island, and all but jumped into his arms, wrapping your own tightly around his neck. Luke buried his face into the crook of your neck, “I am so, so proud of you.” You lifted his head and looked into those hazel eyes you loved so much, “You deserve this. You worked your ass off all season to prove yourself.”

“Yeah but there’s better-“

“No,” You shook your head, “There’s no one better for the cover. You proved that you aren’t in the league just because your last name is “Hughes”. You proved that you’re in the league because you are worthy of it. And you did it all on your own.”

“Not all on my own,” Luke shook his head, “I couldn’t have gotten through the rookie season without you. Especially when Jack got hurt.”

You remembered those weeks where Luke let the outside noise seep into his head. He hardly ever scrolled through social media comments but you had caught him scrolling through twitter, searching himself up and seeing what random people were saying about him. You watched as all the doubt filled his mind and it didn’t help that the Devils weren’t having a great season. But slowly, you pushed away those feelings, reminding Luke every day as he went to the arena that he deserved to be there. That he worked just as hard as anyone on the team, and he was just as good as anyone on the team.

“Well baby,” You smiled, running your hands through his curls, “You made it and you’re on the fucking cover of NHL 25!”

“I’m on the fucking cover,” Luke smiled, grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his torso, “Forget breakfast, I wanna celebrate.”

note: do you think Luke knows how proud the whole hockey community is of him? Like he's not just Jack and Quinn Hughes' little brother. He is Luke Hughes, Calder Trophy nominee, and cover player for NHL 25. I am so excited to see what this season has in store.

#Luke hughes #Luke hughes fic #Luke hughes imagine #Luke hughes fan fiction #Luke hughes x reader #Luke hughes x oc #luke hughes blurb #lh43 #hockey fic #hockey fan fiction #hockey imagine

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twinkletri · 6 months ago

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How Can Trade Ready Help Traders Build Discipline and Increase Market Success?

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Join the ranks of disciplined, successful traders who understand the power of restraint and strategy. Your financial future should not be dictated by impulsive decisions, but rather guided by a well-thought-out plan. Trade Ready is the key to transforming your trading game, just like the wealthiest individuals who've harnessed the power of discipline to build their fortunes.

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#Trading mistakes to avoid #Controlling trading emotions #Setting stop-loss orders #How to avoid overtrading #Risk management strategies

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aagneauu · 11 months ago

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High value habits to elevate yourself 🥂✨

When the term "high value" is mentioned, we often think of things related exclusively to economic wealth, but being a high-value person is an attitude, an attribute founded on habits and a wealthy mentality. So today I wanted to mention a few habits that I personally perceive as something a person with strong standards apply on their lives. ✨

Sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language :b

1. Long-term mentality ✦

Enjoying yourself is very important, but when we only think about the things that give us temporary pleasure, is often very likely that we forget to take care about our future stability. For example, if you want to travel, the smart thing to do would be to save the money in order to be able to afford it, but how many times we just feel the urge to waste money on unnecessary stuff just to get that brief satisfaction, that bad habit will take us far from our goals. This rule can be applied on almost every aspect, and if you're able to stick to your goals and take decisions according to them, trust me, you'll get very far.

2. Invest ✦

Stop wasting and start investing; your money, your time and your energy. In terms of money, you obviously can spend some of it on pretty stuff, but instead of wasting your whole salary on things you want, a smarter move would be to use part of that money to invest it on something that potentially can give us another income, maybe there's a valuable peace of jewelry or clothing that not only we could use, but to sell and trade in the future, or even if you have enough money saved, you can invest in a property, to not only live in it, but to rent it. Our time and energy works in the same way, we could be wasting our time and energy with people that don't give us nothing we can learn from, and you're worth way more than that. Find people and habits that not only make you feel good and appreciated, but that will leave you something interesting for your personal growth, and remember, better alone than in a bad company.

3. Details matter ✦

How we talk, how we decide to present ourselves to the world, our values, the effort we put on what we make. Every little detail says something about us. For example, something as simple as spraying perfume before we go out makes a difference, or if you study, the amount of time and effort you decide to put on certain classes. Socially, what you decide to say, and to develop the hability to stay quiet when necessary. Maybe you think that those little things don't make a huge difference at the long-term, but when you see how your life can change drastically with every little step you take, you learn to pay attention to it.

4. Patience ✦

It is a strong word, it is even harder to apply to our lives sometimes. Being patient not only with people, but with our circumstances. Sometimes things that we don't like happens, and we don't even understand why because we thought that we did everything right, but everything happens for a reason, it's like a fruit, you could take it out of the tree earlier because you're hungry, but it isn't that mature and tasty, but if you just wait, resist the hunger, the fruit will be way better. That applies to money, emotional growth and life changes. Learn to understand that sometimes, pain will be the sign to something better than your current situation.

5. Stop following the crowd ✦

Set standards and learn what is good for you, if you just rely on others to decide what is best for you, or even worse; you know something is bad for you and still do it for others, then expect low quality experiences. People time to time will call you boring or even extreme just because you decide to be loyal to your values. If something that everyone is doing seems beneficial, do it, but because it gives you something valuable, not because of the crowd. You can apply this rule to everything; friends, money, and other experiences. The amount ot peace and comfort that you can get with this transformation is a huge life upgrade.

This were some topics that come to mind when the "high value" term is mentioned. And remember, no one is perfect and every little thing makes us unique. Life is a long journey that you can decide to upgrade with every little move.

Hope u enjoyed! ♡

#girlblogger #fashion #girl blogger #girlblogging #moodboard #luxuries #luxury #aesthetic #luxury aesthetic #luxe #high value mindset #high value woman #high maintenance #it girl #black girl luxury #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girl boss #girl blogging #luxury lifestyle

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five-and-dimes · 3 months ago

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Sunbeam

Part 1 of 4

Using the Dreaming Bingo Adoptable prompt: Cat Ears

Rating: M

Ship: Dreamling

Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)

Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort

Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.

Read on AO3

It takes a village to make an au like this- It all started on our fav @gabessquishytum 's blog (specifically these posts), plus a lot of inspo from discord, and Hob's design based on the amazing art of @amielot. Thanks for feeding my obsession with this au, friends! 🤘

~~~

By the time Hob makes it back to his room, finally released from a dull morning council meeting, it is nearly afternoon. And Dream is kneeling on the floor.

It’s been a little over a week since King Hob was gifted the cat person now staying in his private chambers. When Dream had been presented to him, Hob remembers feeling a mix of emotions- rage and sorrow and confusion and offense. The bovine kingdom did not trade in people.

(Not anymore.)

He had wanted to refuse the ‘gift’ out of principle. But he had looked down at the wounded, far too thin creature in front of him and knew immediately that he could not let him go back with his captors. So he had accepted the offering with the minimal amount of politeness to not start a war. He had beckoned the cat to him, and learned that his name was Dream, and that he was too weak to make it up the stairs to Hob’s room. His body was withered and wasted, starved and neglected, even a short walk leaving him panting and shaking. Hob had waved the guards away and lifted him up into his own arms to carry him the rest of the way.

Dream had trembled against him, no matter how Hob tried to reassure him. Part of him still wonders if it was a mistake to bring the poor man into Hob’s own chambers, to lay him on his own soft bed when his fears were so obvious. But Hob could not bear the thought of leaving him alone and scared in some strange room in the palace. In truth, he wanted desperately to care for him himself. Some part of his heart had been given to the cat the moment Hob saw him, and he was determined to see him healed.

The first night was hard, and Dream continued shivering even as he drank from Hob’s chest, falling into a fitful sleep in Hob’s bed after being tugged away guiltily to ensure he didn’t make himself sick drinking too much too fast. In the days since, Hob has left him in his room as he went about his business throughout the day, returning to check on him and feed him, and always finding him in the exact spot on the bed where he left him. Until today.

It had been raining for much of the week, but today the sun was streaming through the open windows, the light falling vibrantly across the floor in the center of the bedroom. Dream was crouched at the edge of the thick rug placed beneath the bed, reaching one long arm out to dip just the very tips of his fingers into the light, his face full of equal parts longing and trepidation.

It is a look Hob remembers on his own face when he was a young calf, sneaking into his mother’s study and standing on the tips of his hooves to admire her golden collar and bell. He would tap it, giggling at the heavy chime, feeling mischievous as he imagined a day in the future when the beautiful adornment would be passed on to him. He also recalls getting caught, his mother admonishing him sternly yet fondly, and the way he never once felt fear of her.

He put his grimly little child’s hands all over literal gold, and he never felt anywhere near the blatant terror he sees now on Dream’s face at being caught reaching for a sunbeam.

“I apologize, my lord,” Dream scrambled frantically back onto the bed, folding his limbs to kneel and forcing his hands to release his robe, laying them in his lap meekly. It broke Hob’s heart every time, the way he so clearly wanted to hold the robe closed around his body and just as clearly expected it to be torn away from him.

He had been given to Hob naked.

The robe he wore now was meant for a calf, too short and too wide and still the best fit they could find for the cat until the tailors finished the custom robe they were working on. Dream had been near tears when he was presented with something to cover himself, bowing his head and offering anything and everything of himself in thanks. So grateful. All for a robe that didn’t even fit.

Hob approached the bed slowly, smiling gently even when he wanted to cry for the poor creature, “You’ve done nothing wrong, sweetheart.”

Dream shivered, keeping his gaze downcast, “I should not have moved without your permission, master.”

Hob flinched at the title. As king he was accustomed to being referred to as lord and sire and majesty- it was only appropriate, and he did expect to be given the respect due his station. But he was no one’s master.

Right now though, he had to choose his battles. “You are free to move about the room, Dream,” it was true that Dream clearly needed rest, but his heart ached to think of Dream sitting stiffly wherever Hob ‘put him’. He turned and gestured at the sunlit spot, “You may even move some of the pillows or blankets from the bed, should you wish to lay in the sun.”

Dream looks horrified at the very idea, ears pinned back in fear, “I would never, sire,” his voice nearly pleading for Hob to believe him, as though he is being tested.

Hob feels his own ears droop, before straightening with resolve. He keeps his motions clear, walking to the bed to gather an armful of pillows. Dream keeps his head down, but his eyes follow Hob’s movements as he begins arranging the pillows on the floor where the sunlight is hitting. He adds a few blankets to the pile too, until he has a little nest in the middle of the room, soft and sunlit.

Dream still hasn’t moved.

“Come here, Love,” Hob keeps his voice soft and soothing, but Dream still tenses when Hob scoops him up into his arms easily, so frighteningly light, “You must be hungry. Breakfast feels like ages ago.”

As much as Hob wishes he could sustain Dream with his milk alone, they had begun introducing some light foods- small morsels of fish, and select vegetables that the royal librarian deemed safe for cat people- into his breakfast and dinner. In between though, Hob fed him himself. Hob was used to being responsible for an entire kingdom, to making decisions that were far and long lasting and praying that he might make his country even a little bit better each day. And he was proud of his position, he would not trade it for anything. But there was something so special about being able to hold this one person in his arms and see the good he was doing.

It still took some encouragement. As he settles into the nest, leaning back against the pillows and facing the window so that Dream can sit in his lap in the direct sunlight, Dream is still tense and trembling. Hob shushes him gently, slipping his shirt over his head before placing one hand at the back of Dream’s head to guide him to his chest. He remembers how confused Dream had been the first night when Hob had fed him, opening his mouth wide like he might for a different part of Hob’s body, unsure of what was expected of him. He had allowed himself to be maneuvered without any resistance until Hob was finally able to get a few drops of milk onto his tongue. He had watched as Dream’s eyes had widened, pupils dilating as he licked his lips in something like disbelief.

After that it was a little easier. He is still nervous and hesitant, but Hob is able to press his mouth to his nipple and say, “Drink,” softly, more of a request than an order even if Dream does not yet recognize it as such. Hob shivers at the sensation as Dream begins to suckle, biting his lip to hold back a groan. He turns his gaze up to the ceiling, trying to distract himself from the sensation. Dream shifts in his lap and Hob has to mentally recite every trade detail he’d been given at his morning meeting in order to restrain himself from moving his hips.

The first night, Dream had looked so resigned when he finally noticed the hard prick in the lap he was sitting on. Hob had just pushed him back, not wanting him to throw up what was most likely the first substantial meal he’d had in who knows how long. He had looked so sorrowful, gazing longingly at Hob’s chest, and then he leaned back and gasped, Hob’s cock hard and hot against his hip.

He had seemed to wilt, any relaxation Hob had coaxed from feeding him vanished, and he spoke like he was reciting a script, “How shall I repay you, master?”

Hob had felt his blood run cold at the title, “There is nothing to repay, sweet one,” he promised, his smile more of a grimace. Dream had stared at him in blatant disbelief, and as much as Hob wanted to keep holding him, he knew his body’s response was not helping the situation. So he had moved Dream off his lap, tucked him under the bed covers to sleep off his meal, and then gone and taken a long bath to take care of the problem.

It is a routine he has kept ever since. Dream no longer asks what Hob wants in return, though he still looks at him expectantly, and Hob smiles and pets him and then excuses himself to the bath to spend as much time as he needs pleasuring himself. And if he spends that time imagining the soft pads of Dream’s hands, or his sandpaper tongue, or the few glimpses he’s gotten of Dream’s enticingly barbed cock, well, no one needs to know.

Glancing back down at the cat in his arms, Hob is drawn now to Dream’s ears. His own are soft, yes, but they are also thick and sturdy. Dream’s are so thin. Even with the blackness of his fur, the sun seems to shine through at the very tips, a soft glowing pink with little veins just barely visible. Almost without thinking, Hob moves the hand on the back of Dream’s head to lightly grip one ear between his fingers.

Unsurprisingly, Dream startles, a frightened chirp escaping him as he releases Hob’s teat.

“Shhh,” Hob soothes, nudging Dream back towards his nipple, “It’s alright, you can have some more.” He has to be careful not to let Dream make himself sick, he had been warned by the palace physician what to look out for, but they were nowhere near that point yet. Dream shyly begins suckling again, eyes glancing up at Hob through his eyelashes for approval. “Good boy,” Hob praises, and Dream’s eyes flutter shut, relaxing minutely.

In his hand, he runs his thumb across Dream’s ear. So soft, so delicate and paper thin. He feels a strange compulsion to put it in his mouth. Not to bite, like he did with his playmates growing up- Dream feels too frail for that sort of roughhousing, and Hob does not ever want to hurt him.

No, he wants to hold his silky ear in his mouth like a delicacy, wants to lick and suck at it as gently as Dream does to his teat until the gossamer fur is wet and warm from his tongue.

For now, he settles for simply rubbing the skin between his fingers, stroking the velvet softness in a feeble attempt to distract himself from his own lust. Eventually, too soon for his or Dream’s liking but in accordance with the doctor, Hob must gently push Dream away, his chest feeling emptier and yet still too full. All he wants is to feed Dream until he is fully sated. It hurts that, for now, he cannot.

Dream has become more accustomed to the routine, and so his whimper is nearly inaudible when leans back in Hob’s lap. Hob can feel the way his ears go from lax contentment to physically pressed down, tense and flat against his head. Or trying to be, at least, in the case of the ear still in Hob’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Hob coos, “I know you want more, just have to wait a couple hours, Love.”

“You have been more than generous, master,” Dream replied shakily, and Hob suddenly realizes that he does not want to run away to sequester himself in the baths.

At the moment, his body is not betraying him, at least not so much that his robes do not hide it. And so he shushes Dream again and turns him in his lap, easy as a doll, until they are both facing the window. He nestles Dream between his thighs, bracketing him between thick, warm fur and tugging him to lean back against the softness of his belly. He feels Dream’s breath hitch as he brings his free hand around to rest softly on the subtle swell of his stomach.

“Relax,” Hob whispered, one hand on his ear while the other rubbed his stomach soothingly, helping encourage his starved body to digest the meal it’s been given, “Just relax.”

As he strokes Dream’s trembling belly and pets his ear, Hob cannot help but tilt his face into the sun. He thinks perhaps he has taken this warmth and light for granted. How many times has he awoken and scowled at the light streaming across his bed? How often has he walked past these sunbeams, stepped across the warm fibers of his extravagant rug, and not even spared them a glance? Now, feeling his body warm- feeling Dream’s body warm- in the glowing light, he feels a pang of regret that he has not appreciated this simple pleasure before.

Well, he is appreciating it now. He smiles to himself as he feels Dream slowly relax under his ministrations, body melting back against him and sinking into Hob’s abundant, pillowy flesh. Hob thinks that if he could, he would keep Dream here, surrounded by his body, soft and warm, forever.

Maybe he can’t hold him forever, but he can hold him now. And maybe it is too soon to mouth at Dream’s silky ears and press his tongue to them like a salt lick, but he allows himself to press a fleeting kiss to the one in his hand.

Dream doesn’t flinch. And that is more than enough for now.

#the sanmdan #dreamling #my writing #cw lactation #cw warprize #warprize au #cat!Dream #cow!Hob #my art

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lollyposp · 1 month ago

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okay im only slightly going insane right now about how MUCH i adore the way agatha is being portrayed in agatha all along. she's this awesome mix of horrible and sympathetic BUT not in the way that excuses everything she does. like, the other witches dislike her for good reason and even when agatha is nice to them or they realise she's got her own issues too like, that doesn't change what she's done in the past to get her reputation.

but ALSO it's so obvious that 90% or something of Agatha's personality is either a facade or an exaggeration of her bitterness because after everything we know of that's happened to her ("i can be good" "no you cannot", her son dying and rio's obvious involvement in that) it's like. how can she love. how can she trust when those she loved made her feel betrayed, or she lost them, or even both.

i think the first clue that a lot of her personality is a facade was the whole "just blast me" situation, because to me it felt like "well yeah Agatha's clearly nasty but how much of that is because she needs to annoy people into trying to kill her so she can grab their magic?" but I hadn't quite realised that there could be more to it than that

but episode 4 had SO MANY examples. i mean, Agatha's entire "no fucks given" attitude just fizzles out when the teen is dying and i feel like even the other witches picked up on it, like jen was clearly stunned by Agatha's grief as well as by Teen's condition. and then her sitting with Teen until he woke up, not even taking her eyes off him but as soon as he wakes up she pretends she just Happened to check on him Just as he woke up and that she didn't stay there the entire time.

and don't even GET ME STARTED on everything else. the scene at the fire where she very clearly struggled through having a positive interaction with the other witches?? and also the whole "she is my scar" but if i think too much about that i will actually go insane.

the scene that REALLY hasn't left my head all day is the scene where rio tells agatha that Teen isn't hers. ALL THE PROPS to kathryn hahn here she's an INCREDIBLE actress, but the way agatha just says NOTHING and slowly puts on a smile....😦 i was watching the episode with my housemates and the only thing i could say to them was "i literally saw the moment she put her act back on". because for all that agatha is so brash and loud, and no matter how much she might seek conflict with others, she runs away from all her emotional pain because it's too much for her to bear. because how do you even move on from the woman you loved being at least partly complicit in your son's death? whether agatha really DID trade him for the dark hold and regretted it immediately or whether the rumour IS just a rumour and nick and the dark hold aren't connected at all, RIO still is connected to either of those ideas.

(honestly as it stands right now im in whatever camp believes he WAS traded for the darkhold, but agatha somehow didn't realise he would be traded until after it was too late, because i feel like it's what explains her actions in WV and her hallucination the most. also it makes rio's actions all the more painful to agatha because it would have been a mistake she didn't mean to make, and rio would not budge even with that knowledge and OUCH. but that's neither here nor there)

honestly this whole incoherent essay was just to say that i love Agatha's character. i love that the question surrounding her isn't really "is she good or evil?" or even "can she be good?". i feel like it's clear there IS a good person in agatha but because she's ignored it for so long (some of that is probably due to the darkhold) the question kind of becomes "does it matter that she's got good inside her if she refuses to show it?". she's so firmly in the morally grey camp that while i do kind of want her to have a redemption arc and to have a whole found family thing go on, i honestly don't see it happening and i also at the same time DON'T want her to be redeemed when she's so interesting because she's this person who clearly has the capacity to be good and chooses not to out of pride and fear of being vulnerable and all the trauma she's accumulated.

oh i completely forgot to mention that im also obsessed with the sound booth scene???? i honestly can't figure out if she's just shit stirring when she projects her and rio's conversation for the fun of it, or if it's like a fucked up agatha way of trying to protect her new coven by giving them reasons to distrust rio and be wary of her, specifically because she thinks rio will betray her/betray them and reap them. I can't figure it out. it might even be both.

anyway live laugh love agatha

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #im obsessed with this show if the essay didn't make it clear #and Agatha's SO interesting #agatha all along spoilers

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