#i have spent literal hundreds of hours doing it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lore-gore · 1 year ago
Text
I think the reason us helluva boss/hazbin hotel fans get so defensive about criticism is because a lot of the "critics" just hate vivzie and the shows themselves. It's come to the point that any criticism for this show feels like an angry mob. In any other fandom I'm fine with criticism, but the fact that "critics" have said that they can't wait for viv's downfall + even wished that she died has made me hostile towards it. Haters have taken over the critique part of the fandom and turned it into a cesspool of disgusting rage. That level of hate towards a creator is unfathomable. Why do they think this is okay?
520 notes · View notes
manyblinkinglights · 1 month ago
Text
Today, I joined an instance of Project Aincrad, which has really been gathering steam since the VRC devs implemented Persistence (so player data can finally be saved). I partied up with a couple of anime people, a glassy-eyed big-clawed furry, and a floppy but intrepidly quadrupedal regular cartoon horse. We ran around jumping and batting at wasps and hogs with our blades, and met some other people (with better blades) along the way. I put three skill points into STR and one of my bosom companions (the furry) died, losing his acquired skills and experience, before I had to leave them all behind to go help my mom with something.
9 notes · View notes
smokedcapybara · 1 year ago
Text
Me, who literally just sweeps for a living: ah nice the weekend I can rest and hopefully engage in some hobbies
Mom, who spends all day almost every day at home just sitting on her phone: could you sweep the apartment?
2 notes · View notes
gibbearish · 10 days ago
Text
ok im steadily gathering that the speed at which i crochet is less "a little fast" and more "genuinely weirdly fast"
#one of the grandmas at crochet group said smth like ''and they said machine crocheting was impossible'' and im just like#huh.#or one of them has apparently been working on a blanket for like. over a year? and ive just. cranked out a blanket approximately the same#size in like 12 hours#granted‚ bigger yarn + bigger hook + probably bigger stitch#but all that being said. with the same yarn and stuff id be looking at like. a week max#so idk#maybe this is the thing i can do is churn out crochet blankets#im so torn on what id do for pricing though bc like. i wouldnt want to undercut others selling theirs for more#by going super low price#but also if it takes me Way Less Time To Make it feels shitty to charge the same amount as someone who spent months on one#(inb4 'yeah but the time it took to build the skills-' i am just shy of 25 and have been crocheting for abt 15 of them which yes does#sound like a lot until you remember that the majority of the others involved have like. 50+ years)#so idk!!#and also just generally the idea of charging Hundreds Of Dollars for literally anything i make sounds insane#like i know yarn can be expensive depending on the type but. goddamn#i feel like i could /maybe/ let myself charge one singular hundreds of dollars at absolute most#and also to me it always felt like itd make more sense for the commissioner to provide the yarn? like ik for premade things#its different but for commissions i dont understand including yarn cost in the amount you pay the person making it#like you know the colors and textures you like more than me‚ why would i do that part for you#idk. something for me to think about at least#origibberish#worlds first crochet speedrun streamer.....#actually i havent checked thats probably already a thing
1 note · View note
muchmossymess · 3 months ago
Text
hey uh, dont think ive seen anyone point out how shit of a plan Father had? maybe ive misremembered something, but uh, he only had two out of five sacrifices (one he didnt even know the location of!) when the promised day was like literally a year away? dont you think thats leaving it a bit late?
1 note · View note
chucklechampion · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
#there is a man#who has been at the front desk asking for us to print things#for- and this is no hyperbole no lie- seven straight hours as of right now#we have gone through a ream of paper and literally BROKE OUR FRONT DESK PRINTER#and he has spent five of those seven hours talking#i have a massive fucking headache and it’s been so long that i can’t even fake smile anymore#SEVEN HOURS. WE GOT ONE SINGLE HOUR OF THISRNTIRE SHIFT WHERE HE WASNT HERE#AM I GOING TO KILL MYSELF OR HIM NOT SURE YET#he wanted us to print over TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY EMAILS#we’re doing it because we’re nice but i literally had to#tell him that we no longer will be helping him and there will be nobody to help him until the next shift gets here#because we had to spend the ENTIRETY of our shift printings of this guy emails#he keeps saying that he’s going to give us $200 each but he’s literally homeless and was put in a room by a charity#‘ i’m generous to a fault money is no object’#Brother you said yourself that you live on disability and you were put here by a man who told us you didn’t have anywhere else to go#I NO YOU DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY?#thanks text to speech appreciate it#The only thing that saved me is having to drive the shuttle tonight so I get to disappear for a while#Otherwise I would’ve lost my mind fucking hours ago#My coworker on the other hand has been there with him dealing with his stupid bullshit for seven straight hours#I have a massive fucking headache dude unbelievable
1 note · View note
connorsui · 15 days ago
Note
Hi! Can I ask for a Sylus fluff, where he gives the reader his bank card for her to go shopping, and he expects a bill to be at least $10,000, but all he sees is about $100. So he asks her if she bought everything she wanted, and she says something like "yeah, there were such good discounts, I didn't spend too much, did I?"
And man is just ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ GIRL GO SPEND MY MONEY I WANT TO SPOIL YOU
Tumblr media
My beloved @lalaluch I cannot explain to you just how much fun this was to even imagine but let alone even WRITE 🩷 like I was losing my mind trying to bust out my Google docs to even make this. But my sickness was literally getting to me that all I could do was imagine--but anywhoo now that it's finally done I hope you all enjoy it ✨️
p.s: I hope this sickness finally leaves me because it be making me internally cry on the inside ...I pray for prayers lol 💅🏻
Tumblr media Tumblr media
BUDGET QUEEN
It had taken weeks of gentle coaxing, half-joking remarks, and the occasional exasperated sigh before you’d reluctantly agreed. You had this stubborn streak, an insistence on independence that both irritated and fascinated him. But today, you’d finally caved.
“You’ll take it,” Sylus had said that morning, slipping the sleek card into your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “No arguments. No excuses.”
You had sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But I’m not going crazy with it?!”
He had only smirked, knowing full well you would—and knowing full well that he wanted you to.
And now, hours later, he awaited the results.
Sylus leaned back in his leather chair, his crimson eyes flicking lazily over the documents cluttering his desk. A rare break in his usual chaos had him sipping on his usual drink, savoring the brief quiet. That was until his phone buzzed. He set his glass down and checked the notification, a message from his bank popping up.
He expected it—he wanted it. You had finally caved to his insistence after a literal month of convincing and taken his black card to go shopping. He’d envisioned the inevitable message all morning, something like:
One-hundred million spent at Celine and The Row’s combined?
Or perhaps?
Fifty million at Loro Piana?
You’d mentioned their beauty and elegance more than once.
Nevertheless, the man wanted indulgence, excess—you deserved it, after all.
Instead, the message read:
$157.45 at… Assorted Stores.
Sylus stared at the screen, unblinking. Surely, this was a mistake. He refreshed his balance multiple times. Same amount. He checked for pending transactions. None.
“…What?” he muttered, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. He slammed his phone down, crossing his arms as he waited for you to return.
Minutes later, the front door opened, and you walked in, humming happily, two bags dangling from your arms. You looked utterly content, your warm smile sending a pang through Sylus’s chest. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he had questions.
“You’re back,” he said, leaning against the doorframe to his study, watching you set the bags down in the living room. His towering presence cast a shadow over you, his white hair catching the light, giving him an almost otherworldly aura.
“Yup!” you chirped, rifling through the bags. “You wouldn’t believe the deals I found today! It’s like the universe knew I had your card!”
Sylus squinted. “Deals?”
“Yeah! Everything was on sale! I even had coupons for some things. Oh, and this boutique downtown was having a clearance event! It was amazing!” You beamed at him, oblivious to his growing disbelief.
“Clearance? ..…How much did you spend?” he asked, his voice neutral. Too neutral.
“Um…” You frowned, pulling your phone out to check. “About a few hundred, I think? Oh, wait—like one-fifty! I didn’t spend too much, did I?” You tilted your head, as if genuinely concerned.
Sylus stared at you, his expression shifting to one of incredulous disbelief. His red eyes seemed to glow, and his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the look of a man deeply offended. Not by you—but by the principle.
“…That’s it?” he asked, his voice sharp but measured, as if he were trying to comprehend an alien concept. “One-fifty?”
You blinked up at him, a little confused by his tone. “Well, yes… I mean, I didn’t want to waste your money—”
“Waste my—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his snowy hair. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, “do you have any idea why I gave you my card?”
“To… buy some stuff?” you offered, suddenly feeling like you were missing something obvious.
“To spoil you,” he emphasized, stepping closer. “To treat you like the queen you are. To shower you in luxury. And you—” He gestured to the modest shopping bags on the floor, his voice taking on a dramatic edge. “—come back with clearance items?”
Your cheeks flushed. “But… I didn’t need anything expensive! I found good deals, and I thought—”
“No.” Sylus leaned down slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Listen to me, love. I don’t care about the price tag. I want you to have the best. The fact that you’re this thoughtful is adorable—don’t get me wrong—but next time…” He paused, his voice dropping into a softer, more commanding tone. “…I want to see receipts that would make the average person cry.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not.” He straightened, towering over you again, his arms crossing. “Do you know how much money I make? How much I’ve set aside specifically to spoil you?”
“I can guess?…”
“Clearly not if you’re spending less than a casual dinner out on everything.” His voice was calm, but laced with unmistakable disapproval.
Then, with a breath, he softened—only slightly. “I just want to see you dressed in diamonds,” he corrected, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. “To watch you slip into golden heels that make you shine like the goddess you are. To drape you in silk and velvet, to see you standing before me in a dress that costs more than a car and still doesn’t compare to your worth.”
Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sudden weight in his words.
“I gave you my card,” he continued, voice lower now, intimate, “because I want you to indulge. To spoil yourself the way I ache to spoil you. Because you deserve to walk into a store and not think—just watch and admire”
Your throat went dry.
He lifted his hand, fingers brushing over your wrist before tracing upward, his touch featherlight against your skin. “I want to see you try on jewelry without looking at the price tag,” he murmured. “I want to sit back and watch as a saleswoman fumbles to put a necklace around your throat because her hands are shaking too much from the sheer amount of wealth wrapped around you.”
His gaze dipped lower, lingering on your frame as he exhaled through his nose. “And instead… you bring me deals?”
Your heart pounded, a mix of amusement and something else entirely stirring in your chest. “I didn’t think I needed to spend that much—”
“You don’t need to,” he interrupted, thumb ghosting over your jawline. His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. “But I want you to.”
Your face heated.
“Next time, I’m going with you.”
“What, to make sure I spend enough?” you teased.
“Yes,” he said, dead serious. “And to carry your bags. And to remind you that you can have whatever you want.” His red eyes softened slightly, and he tilted your chin up with two fingers. “All I want is to see you happy. No discounts required.”
You smiled at his sincerity, warmth blooming in your chest. “Okay, fine. Next time, I’ll go a little crazier. Maybe five million?” you joked.
Sylus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
You laughed, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”
“And you’re too frugal for your own good,” he shot back, pulling you into his arms. His voice softened, turning almost playful. “But I guess I’ll just have to teach you how to spend properly.”
“Looking forward to it,” you said, grinning against his chest.
Sylus sighed, resting his chin atop your head. As much as he wanted to spoil you senseless, he couldn’t help but love your thoughtful, practical side. It was part of what made you you—and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Still, next time… he was definitely making sure you left the store with at least an entire closet filled with designer bags.
For his sanity—and yours.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
reidmania · 7 months ago
Text
WHY WAIT | Spencer Reid.
summary; reader works at a childcare and realises she wants kids sooner than she expected she would and struggles to admit that to Spencer after their agreement to wait a few years.
warnings; 16+, slight angst, a bit suggestive at the end. fem reader, childcare worker reader, mentions babies, wanting babies, avoidant reader, guilt, feeling scared to talk about emotions, talks about feeling empty, references sex, makeout, talks about trying for a baby. lmk if i missed anything
a/n ; i imagined this as post prison reid but literally any works
Your head is almost a foggy mess when you step into the bau office out of the elevator. Your hand grouped your hair before tying it up into a mess of a ponytail but you couldn’t find it to care as your eyes skimmed over the room for your husband.
You had finished work almost an hour ago, to where you were supposed to go out with Spencer for a date night — it was an unspoken agreement between you two that no matter how busy you were, at least once a week you would go out for a date night. It was important for your relationship because of how much Spencer was away.
Working at a childcare had its ups and downs, being vomited on, the headaches from toddlers screaming tantrums and annoying parents weren’t always the best or easiest thing to deal with — but you were doing what you loved.
The little letters or flowers you would be given by kids throughout the say, the big grins on their faces in the mornings, and watching their curious faces grow more and more was so rewarding. The job fit you perfectly it allowed you to be able to be nurturing and caring, like you were in your everyday life.
Normally you worked in the toddler room, which you enjoyed the absolute most, having little conversations, answering their hundreds of curious questions, and reading to them. A few weeks ago however, you had to take over the baby room because one of your coworkers were out sick and causing the baby room to be out of ratio of babies and adults, whereas the toddler room was perfect — you were able to help out, it had been a continuous thing, you would go in and help out whenever due to the low staff in the baby room, over the last few weeks you had spent many days in there.
Only it didn’t go exactly as you expected and not at all in a bad way, you had something about you that was so enhancing to little humans, their adored you — It was no different with the babies.
Only holding them and rocking them to sleep, feeding them bottles and watching them coo and smile made you think too deeply. You couldn’t stop your mind from travelling to the idea of kids of your own.
You and Spencer had talked about it, you wanted kids and he wanted kids, that was definite, but you both also agreed you would wait a few years until Spencer was ready to teach. He didn’t want to risk the chance of not coming home to you and his children — he didn’t want to leave you alone.
And you were completely okay with that. You worked around kids all day so there was no rush for you, you were completely content with the decision. Until recently.
Until it was all you could think about all day, and the entire way home, until you were laying in bed thinking about it, until everyday doing anything it felt like there was something missing, someone missing.
You smiled as your eyes laid on Spencer who was sitting at his desk finishing Paperwork, the only reason you were here was because he had some extra work to do and would be here later than he planned but he wanted to see you. So he called you once you finished and suggested you come here to hang out with him until he finished and then you would go on your date.
You walked up to him, hand gently brushing over his shoulder. He tilted his head to look up at you, the smile on his lips arrived almost instantly after seeing your face. “Hey” He smiled, hand reaching back placing itself ontop of your hand that was on his shoulder.
You repositioned your hand, clasping it over his own. “Hi honey” You leant down to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. You could feel his thumb rubbing back and fourth over the back of your hand.
“How was your day?” He asked, shuffling around on his chair to be facing you completely as he swung your hands together gently, everything he did was so gentle. You couldn’t stop your mind from imagining him holding your baby in his arms, playing peekaboo with them.
Your mind didn’t stop there. You could just imagine your baby wrapping its small hand around Spencers ring finger where his wedding ring stayed. You could see it all playing out in your mind.
“Baby?” He said after your lack of response, noticing clearly your mind was elsewhere. You looked at him— you were looking at him before but you were really looking at him now, out of your daze.
“Sorry, What?” You apologise as you realise you had basically ignored whatever he was saying, making a small puddle of guilt flood through your stomach.
He tapped his knee, encouraging you to sit down innocently. You did so without question after he repositioned slightly in order to make it more simple and comfortable for you. His hand rested gently against your thigh. “I asked how your day was.” He said softly.
You hummed, turning your head in order to be facing him. “Good” You nodded — purposefully not mentioning any details, too scared you may go into too much detail. You and Spencer had agreed on a timeline for your future and you knew how important timing was, and you didn’t want to ruin that for Spencer just because you had a bit of baby fever.
Or what you passed off as baby fever.
“Yeah?” He muttered, hand raising to brush untied strands of hair out of your face. You nodded in response, leaning into his touch as he hand paused, cupping your cheek slightly. “How was yours?” You ask, you hand trailed behind his head to rest gently in his hair.
“Good, I missed you” He said, head leaning back slightly into your touch. You smiled at the little thing, how his body relaxed at your contact.
“I missed you too, Im sorry I had to leave early this morning” You left before he woke up, which wasn’t normally the case but you were called in because a parent needed to drop off a kid extra early.
He just shook his head, bringing your free hand up to place a gentle kiss to your wrist. You heard your name causing you to turn your head, you smiled widely as you saw JJ — looking very pregnant. It had been a while since you had seen her, last time being at the start of her pregnancy, she would’ve been just over half way now.
“Hi!” You smiled widely, lifting yourself off Spencers lap to wrap your arms around the blonde girl, she reciprocated the action, smiling widely. “Hot mama!! you’re looking great” You smiled once you pulled away, referring to how good she looked.
She chuckled softly, “Thank you.” She said, her hand coming down to her belly, rubbing it gently. Your mind traveled slightly to the idea of you in that position, before you brought yourself out of it.
“When you two gonna start a little family of your own? He will need a friend” JJ teased lightly, a smile on her face.
You smile as you thought about your baby growing up with JJ’s, the idea of them having little playdates while you and JJ could mutually support one another, before your smile slipped slightly when you realised that wouldn’t happen.
You tried not to show it in your face as you pushed out a rough chuckle, shaking your head. You looked over at Spencer who’s eyes were on you with a soft smile on his face, before you looked at JJ.
“Oh no, not for a few more years” You said, you wondered if she could hear the lump in your throat as you talked, a lingering feeling of disappointment taking over your stomach as you plastered a smile on your face.
She frowned, looking between you and Spencer. “You would make amazing parents” She said, gushing slightly at the idea. “Seriously you would be the best mum, wouldn’t she?” She asked, looking at Spencer.
Spencer stood up from his chair to rest his arms around your waist from behind you. You hated the way you slightly tensed before relaxing. “She would” He said, placing a tender kiss your temple.
You pushed out a laugh — it all hurt. In a way you couldn’t explain. It was as if they were taunting you even though you knew they weren’t. You wondered why the universe chose today for JJ to ask the question.
The feeling of loss returned, the feeling of something missing. It had been turning up randomly, doing the littlest things like washing the dishes, doing laundry or just laying in bed at night next to Spencer when he was home — it was worse when he was home. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much you craved your baby lying with you and him.
JJ smiled widely, “Don’t you want kids? Why wait?” She was almost joking, you could hear it in her tone there was a hint of seriousness lingering in it.
“We’re gonna have kids.” Spencer said as if there was no question about it. Your entire body tensed and you hoped Spencer didn’t notice it, you silently prayed he didn’t. “Just in a few years, when everything had calmed down a bit” Spencer said.
Your chest ached at his words more than you cared to admit. A few years, just a few years.
You didn’t know if you could wait a few years. The feeling was taking over every aspect of your life and it was already driving you insane — it had merely been a month.
JJ pouted dramatically as she looked at you, “You would make such a hot mum, full milf” She nodded as she looked you up and down, throwing in a gentle wink.
You chuckled, “I don’t know about that” You brought your hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek gently pushing a smile to your lips as JJ looked at her watch before sighing. “I have to go, how about we go for coffee this weekend?” She suggested looking at you.
You nodded your head smiling as she said her goodbyes before making her way out of the building. Spencer spun you in his arms turning you so you were facing him.
“You’re so beautiful” He said, thumb brushing over your cheek gently as he brought his hand up to your face. He leant down for a moment finally placing a gentle kiss on your lips now that the office was basically empty.
You laughed as you pulled away, “Okay boy wonder, finish up — im starving” You said. He smiled, leaning down to place another kiss against your lips, this one softer and quicker before he turned to sit down.
“Tell me about your day while I work” And you did, leaving out the parts that caused your heart to pull on itself.
The thought never left your mind that night, or any night after that.
“So much for our coffee date” JJ joked after you both ordered hot chocolates rather than coffee’s. You smiled widely at her, shaking your head slightly. “Coffee is overrated” You joked.
She groaned, “Im glad you think that, I’m hardly surviving. My obgyn told me I should cut back a little bit — which is all well and good till I actually had to do it” She said, you watched as her hand instinctively dropped down to her stomach.
There was a feeling in your gut, jealousy? Envy? You weren’t sure but you knew it was beginning to get harder to deal with. You just chuckled, “I could imagine”
The table fell quiet as your eyes dropped to the table, almost wishing you had the struggle of not being able to drink a lot of coffee because you were having a baby — you hated that.
“Alright, no more small talk. Whats up”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked up at her. You pushed a laugh past your lips as your head fell to the side, “What do you mean?” You asked in confusion.
She rolled her eyes playfully. “You have been all… sad. You’re so sad. Why are you sad? I noticed it the other night at the office— Did Spencer do something?” She started out worriedly before becoming slightly defensive of you at the idea that maybe Spencer did something that upset you.
You laughed, “Spencer didn’t do anything. Spencer is amazing.” You reassured lightly. Although the pit in your stomach deepened — you knew exactly what she was talking about and no matter how much you denied it if there was one person able to get it out of you, it would be JJ.
“It was right after I mentioned you having kids… Do you not want kids?” She guessed, it almost made you laugh because it was exactly the opposite. “Does Spencer know?” She asked — everyone knew how much Spencer wanted kids of his own one day.
You shook your head. “I want kids.” You said but the words held more depth. You wanted kids, you wanted a baby and you wanted them with Spencer.
“I still don’t understand why you’re waiting.” She muttered shaking her head and she distracted herself from the topic at hand — which you would’ve been grateful for besides the fact she was now bringing up exactly what was wrong — waiting.
“Spencer couldn’t do it now” You muttered slightly under your breath but she caught it, furrowing her eyebrows she asked why.
You sighed, shrugging. “He loves his job and he wants to wait a few years before he starts teaching. We decided to wait” You said, you tried to hide the disappointment in your voice but that was useless when sitting across from a profiler.
“You don’t want to wait.” She realised, her lips pulling into a frown. You mirrored the look, nodding your head sadly. She huffed slightly.
“It’s alright, really. Its just working around kids all days, babies and toddlers really makes it difficult for me to just—“ You were cut off when your waitresses came to place yours and JJ’s hot chocolates on the table, you both thanked her before she walked away and you continued. “It just makes it difficult to ignore it.”
JJ nodded her head in understanding. “You shouldn’t have to ignore it! You know Im sure if you talked to him—”
You didn’t mean to cut her off, “He wants to wait. If i bring it up he will agree just because it’s what I want, I don’t want that.” You said, shaking your head as you looked down at the hot chocolate in your hands.
“He wants kids.” She said. You knew this but it felt nice hearing it again. “He wants to be a dad and he wants to have kids — with you. Of course he will do it if you want it, thats not a bad thing. He wants it to, theres ways to work around work — you just need to have a conversation about it” She said honestly.
You pushed a smile to your lips as you thought about her words, still there was an overwhelming amount of guilt in your chest. “Ill see how it goes” You say.
It had been two weeks since your ‘coffee’ date with JJ and you still found yourself unable to admit out loud to Spencer that you wanted kids now. He had been away on a case this week, which didn’t help you being alone with your thoughts — but it made it easier trying to hide the feeling of emptiness that had been present for weeks.
Not because of Spencer, he made you happier than you thought humanly possible. There was just something missing, you kept waiting for the feeling to go away but it never did. You kept waiting to be able to fall asleep at night without the feeling of longing for something more.
You were lying in bed, when you heard the front door of yours and Spencer’s home open and close. It was probably some outrageous time in the night. You had been lying in the same position for hours unable to fall asleep.
You heard footsteps you knew all too well coming towards your bedroom. The door opened and you turned slightly to look at Spencer who was tugging his tie off messily as he walked towards the bed, eyes widening when he saw you were still awake.
“Hi” He sighed tiredly, throwing his tie on the floor. As he began unbuttoning his shirt, after pulling off his suit jacket. “Im so glad you’re awake” He breathed out.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up to look at him properly. His hair was a mess and he was rushing to get changed. He hardly finished taking off his pants before he was pulling on grey sweatpants leaving his top half naked as he got in bed next to you.
“Hi” You said.
He smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he pulled you in close to him, so much so you found yourself straddling his hips as he laid on his back. “Hi” He breathed out again.
You were confused. Of course you adored the affection — evidently he missed you but he was out of breath and you didn’t know why. You looked over at the clock seeing it was nearing three in the morning. Spencer never had this much energy this late at night — especially after being away for a week on a case.
Normally he would come home and just hold you. That was what he needed after being away. Just you in his arms.
“What-” you were cut off by him leaning upwards, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, you hummed slightly as you kissed him back, melting into the softness of his lips. His hand trailed down your torso before slipping under your shirt — which was actually his shirt.
You gasped as you felt his cold hands against the warm skin of your waist. His hands traveled up your back like a mad man — as if he could hardly get enough, he took your gasp into his advantage slipping his tongue into your mouth.
You made out with him for a few minute before pulling away, he chased your lips but you pulled back, “What has gotten into you?” You breathed out — chest rising and falling heavily as you worked to catch your breath.
He looked up at you, eyes full of an emotion you’d never seen on his face, one you couldn’t place. He let out a breath. “Let’s have a baby.”
You swore your heart stopped as your breath got caught in your throat. You were sure your pulse was going haywire as you tried to process what he said. “W-What? Spence.” You moved to slide off his lap, feeling a sense of hurt in your stomach.
His hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place. “Please.” He said breathily. “JJ told me” He said, looking so deep into your eyes. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sucked in a harsh breath. You felt a sense of betrayal from JJ but you knew deep down she was just trying to help you. She hated seeing you so.. Sad.
“Spence” You could cry. You swore you could cry.
“Im serious angel. Let’s have a baby. I want a baby.” He said, thumb rubbing over your hip sending a burning sensation to the place his fingertip brushed over.
You frowned, “But you wanted to wait.” You said.
He shrugged his shoulders, “So did you.” He muttered, leaning up to place gentle kisses down your neck.
You tilted your head instinctively at the feeling of his lips gently brushing over your skin. “But you shouldn’t change your- your mind just because I did” You sucked in a harsh breath as you felt his tongue brush over a sensitive spot of your neck.
“I want a baby with you. I want to raise kids with you. I want to be a dad to our children.” He said, pulling away to look at you. “If you’re ready Im ready, I’ll start teaching. I want a baby with you, now.” He said, looking into your eyes. He spoke genuinely.
“Really?” You asked.
He nodded, “Lets start trying.” He said, leaning back down to kiss your neck again.
“Right now?” You laughed out a giggle as your stomach swarmed with an overwhelming amount of happiness.
He hummed against your skin.
“Why wait?”
2K notes · View notes
daydreaming-nerd · 9 months ago
Text
The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister)?
Part 2,
Part 3 (Lucien's Version)
Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)
AN: I’ve had this idea for a while but after hearing “The Prophecy” on The Tortured Poets Department I was finally feeling inspired to write it. You guys have no idea how much that album is about to influence my writing. Also I have no idea how this is gonna end lol.
Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 
Warnings: smut, unrequited love, situationship, fluff, Lucien is literally and angel I love him sm, did not edit (I am tired)
Word count: 3734
Tumblr media
“Please, I've been on my knees. Change the prophecy. Don't want money just someone who wants my company…”
I had known the youngest Vanserra for a while now. I can recall the first time I met him on a lovely day  in the spring court when I was visiting with my brother. The man was more than charming, his words nearly had me buckling at the knees. It was around the same time that I had found out that my brother's close friend Azriel was my mate.
I remember the bond snapping like it was yesterday. We were celebrating solstice in the Hewn City and my feet were nearly black and blue from the amount of drunk men stepping on them while dancing. I was about to ask my brother to take me home when Azriel stepped in and quite literally swept me off my feet. He let me stand on his toes and waltz around the room with him all night to ensure that he himself wouldn’t hurt my feet. At some point in the night the bond snapped and I had never been so happy. 
Azriel and I had been friends for over 100 years and I had secretly harbored feelings for him for at least 75 of them. To have my brother's best friend as my mate felt like fate. I didn’t tell him that night, something I have regretted for the last 400 years. 
Not long after that he rescued Mor and any sparks I thought he felt with me that night were long gone. From that day on all he did was pine for her. I couldn’t blame him, Mor was astonishingly beautiful. For a long time after he saved her I resented her, I felt like she had taken my mate from me. It wasn’t until I realized that she wanted nothing to do with the shadowsinger that my hatred for my cousin dissipated. It wasn’t her fault that Azriel was so smitten with her. It was my fault for not telling him, but now it had been so long since the bond snapped that it seemed weird to bring it up.  
So I sat dutifully by his side whenever  he needed someone to rant to about Mor. It practically ripped out my heart to  hear him talk about how in love with her he was. I was the only person he would open up to like that.  He would spend hours asking me for advice on how to woo her, and I grinned and bore it because, at the end of the day, I got to spend time with him.
I had been playing the girl best friend for hundreds of years. The moment I started to feel like he might be losing feelings for Mor in walked Elain. The beautiful sister of my brother's mate. What's worse? She seemed interested in Azriel as well. 
Elain was easy to hate. Not just for her flirtations with Azriel but for the way she treated Lucien, her mate. Lucien had so much love for the Archeron, and she waved him off without another thought. I might be able to understand her reluctance to accept the bond if Lucien was a brute of a male, but he wasn’t. He was soft, kind and easy on the eyes.
I found him tossing rocks into the Sidra one day, no doubt pining over how Elain had barley even acknowledged the flowers he picked for her. That’s when I told him about Azriel and I’s bond. From that moment on we spent a great deal of time together, ranting about our unaccepted mating bonds. Even though we spent most of the time bitching, there was happiness. More than I had felt in a while. 
Then starfall came…and everything changed. 
“You look far too stunning not to be walking in with a date,” Lucien drawled to me from the outside of the townhouse. 
I had spent all day getting ready for the annual party tonight. My dress was chosen specifically to catch Azriel’s attention, not that I felt like I would succeed. 
“Well finding a date is harder than you think, especially at this hour,” I laugh as I walk through the gate he opened for me. 
“Then indulge me,” he said. I turned to find him offering me an arm. 
“You want to be my date?” I laugh light heartedly, admittedly smitten by the autumn court male. 
“It’s a little last minute but I would be honored to walk into that room with you on my arm,” he said fondly. 
I smiled and shook my head at the male before looping my  arm in his and allowing him to lead me up the steps to the front door. 
“You know, you clean up pretty well Lu,” I cock an eyebrow bumping into him. 
“Thanks, your brother sets a pretty high standard as far as attire for this thing. Who knew he was such a fashionista?” Lucien grins before walking in the door arm and arm with me. I don’t even bother stifling the laugh I let out. 
The room nearly fell silent at our entrance. Sure Lucien and I were close and everyone knew, but they had never seen us like this. Even Az and Elain stopped their oh so intriguing conversation to ogle. I swore I saw anger flit across Elain’s eyes, like she was dead set on owning both Az and Lucien. 
Lucien and I spent the evening as wallflowers, doing our best to stay away from all the happy couples. We had even gotten to the point where we grabbed a bottle of wine off the table and brought it over to our couch, both of us tired of constantly getting up and down for refills. 
It wasn’t until Az and Elain not so subtly got up and walked onto the balcony that we decided we had tortured ourselves enough. We promptly grabbed the bottle of wine and waltzed out of the townhouse not even bothering to say goodbye. I supposed it was that exact bottle that did us in. 
I placed my hand on my apartment door, swaying slightly from the alcohol rushing to my head. Lucein’s hand found my hip, steadying me. While I assured him I would be fine to walk home alone, he insisted he came with me. 
“Thanks,” I laughed unlocking the door. 
“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, wobbling himself. 
“I had a really good time with you tonight,” I say, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself.
“I had a good time too,” he smiled. 
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how close we were. Lucien looked down at me, the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. The sudden tension between us was broken when he crashed his lips on mine. 
One thing led to another and the next thing I knew I was lying bare beneath him as he fucked me like his life depended on it. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to get laid until he was buried inside me. Needless to say I understood why people said the Autumn Court males have fire in their blood. 
That was a year ago and since then Lucien and I had decided to continue seeing each other in secret, both of us needing a way to release built up tension so to say. He often stayed the night and we would spend long hours talking about everything from the books we were reading to politics. The sex was amazing, for both of us, but it was the intimacy that came after that I think we both craved the most. An intimacy I would be seeking out shortly given the current topic of conversation between Azriel and I. 
“Gods the other day she was weaning a light blue dress in the garden and I nearly fell to my knees before her,” Azriel ranted to me. 
He had been going on and on about whether or not he wanted to finally make a move on Elain or not. And as his best friend I had to hear about every word of it.
“I saw it, it was a very pretty dress,” I acknowledge, turning the page of the book I was reading. 
“I swear she blushed when I complimented it too, I think I’m making progress with her,” he went on to say. 
“Maybe you should just put yourself out of your misery and talk to her Az,” I suggested for probably the tenth time. 
“You know I can’t just barrel in there. She’s scared and I’m not going to freak her out even more. She will come to me when she’s ready. If she’s ready. Gods that’s assuming she even likes me,” he rambled. 
I roll my eyes and shut my book so loudly it pulls the shadow singers attention. I give him a pointed look that has him startling back just a bit. 
“I know that she likes you Az,” I deadpan. 
“How can you be sure though?” he asks, throwing his head back on the arm of the couch. 
“Because she would be an idiot not to,” I say with a hint of sadness. 
Azriel looked to be at a loss for words, and I realized my words were much bolder than I had wanted them to be. 
Clearing my throat I set my book down on the side table, knowing it will be waiting for me when I come back to my brother’s tomorrow. I stand and subtly adjust my dress.  
“I have to go, but seriously Az, just tell her,” I say walking over to press a kiss to his forehead. 
As I got to walk away I feel him grab my hand, placing a kiss to my open palm, “Thank you for listening y/n, really.” he says earnestly . 
“Don’t worry  about it Az, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say with a fake smile before setting off towards my modest home. 
When Feyre moved into the townhouse I took it as my queue to move out, knowing my brother and his new mate would want privacy. Of course Rhysand offered me mansions and villas but I was content with a townhouse of my own in the middle of town. Big enough to have my own home library, and small enough to not feel so lonely. 
I make my way down the cobblestone streets, the faelights casting a warm glow on the ground before me. It was late, and many couples were turning in for the night. I could see some cuddled up on their sofa’s through their windows, others were having a nightcap together outside Rita’s. I saw a couple rocking their newborn baby to sleep on the second floor of their home, and for some reason, that was the one that hurt the most to me.
I sighed as I walked up a few steps to my townhouse door. I unlocked the door and was greeted to the smell of jasmine and vanilla and the sound of a cracking fire. I walk up my steps to find Lucien sitting shirtless on my large bed, his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck. The male was the image of relaxation. 
I had given him a key months ago. With the males many jobs, emissary to the night court, ally to Jurian and Vassa,  and liaison to Tamlin, he needed a place to truly call home. For the past 9 months that had been here, with me. I never once objected to his subtle moving in, it was nice to come home to someone waiting for me, sometimes even a homemade meal. For him it was nice to have a  place where he didn’t always have to put on a front. It was a win for both of us. 
“When did you get in?” I ask kicking off my shoes. 
“Just a couple hours ago. How was Azriel duty?” he asked, setting his book down as I began to strip off my cloak and dress leaving me only in my lingerie. It wasn’t uncommon for us to be so casual with one another. 
“Exhausting, did you know that Elain wore a pretty blue dress the other day?” I mocked tossing my clothes into a dirty clothes bin, I noticed his missing shirt was there too.
“Unfortunately yes I did,” he chuckled. “You know what always makes me feel better though?” he smirks. 
“I crawl up the bed towards him, “What?” I smile knowing what the answer will be. 
“You,” he smirks, grabbing my hips and pinning me to the mattress beneath him, his lips pressing to mine. 
“How funny I was about to say the same thing,” I laugh, feeling his lips tickle my neck as he makes his way further down my body. 
His mouth trails the inside of my thighs before sliding my panties down my legs, each brush of his fingers from my hips to my ankles feeling like heaven. The male had been gone for a week, and I was desperate for release. He licks a long stripe up my center, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the top. My back arches off the bed and his hands find my waist to pin me down. I feel his tongue begin to lap at my clit as his fingers slide into me, no doubt finding the pool of wetness waiting there. 
This is what me and Lu had always been good at, reading each other. When he had a stressful day  I always made sure to make him feel good, and when I came back to the house upset he never hesitated to get on his knees for me. There was this unsaid rule that we would always take care of eachother. 
Lucien’s tongue continues lapping my clit as his fingers curl to hit that spot inside of me that had me gasping for air. As I started to feel myself getting closer and closer he removed his mouth from me, drawing his fingers out slowly. One thing about hooking up for a year? You learn to read each other's bodies, and lord did the seventh son of Autumn know how to read mine. 
“Lu!” I cry out frustrated. 
“Shhh my darling,” he coos crawling up my body. “I simply want to cum with you tonight.” he smirked, seething himself inside of me. 
“Oh gods!” I cry feeling him fill me thoroughly. 
He pulls out and thrusts back in causing me to whimper once more. Mor was right about one thing, the autumn court males have fire in their blood and they fuck like it too. 
“I missed you, missed this,” Lucien groans, his face contorted in pleasure as he builds a steady pace. 
“I missed you too Lu,” I say through ragged breaths as he fucks into me like his life depends on it. Apparently the time apart made him needy as well. 
I could hardly speak as he thrust deeper into me, his hands on my waist holding me steady so tha he could hit me as deep as possible. When I felt myself start to clench around him he doubled over, burying his head in my neck as his hips continued to snap into me.
My hands found his back clinging to the flesh there for an anchor, my walls fluttering around him one last time before I fell apart.The sudden sensation had Lucien biting my neck as he came with a low groan. 
We spent a few moments catching our breaths, he pushed up on his arms and moved a stray hair from my face, assessing to see if he had hurt me, just like he always did.  When he found no traces of pain in my face he rolled over, taking me with him so that I was lying on his chest. 
This was always the part I think we both craved the most. The sex was great, amazing even. But I longed for a pair of arms to fall asleep in, and he longed for someone to hold. Meaningless pillowtalk just for fun.
“I mean it, I did miss you,” I sigh circling my arms around his waist. 
“I missed you too, I hate sleeping in the spring court, it’s so cold and dark there now.” Lucien said, staring at the ceiling. 
“How is Tamlin?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Terrible,” he muttered. “I had to talk him into letting me stay.”  He continues playing with the ends of my hair. 
“You’re a good friend for checking in on him though,” I say matter of factly. 
“I still wish I could do more,” he sighs, pulling the covers up on the two of us.
“I understand,” I mutter keeping my head on his chest, staring at the fire that roars next to us. 
A long beat of comfortable silence passes, normally I would fall asleep like this. I would sometimes wake to him being gone, sometimes he would wake to me being gone. Only on weekends would both be able to wake up and go to breakfast together. This was one of those weekends, but instead of falling asleep, Lucien spoke up. 
“Can I ask you something?” he asked, not taking his gaze from the ceiling. 
“Sure,” I reply, waiting for a nonchalant inquiry. It wasn’t the first time he and I had played 20 questions to get to know each other more, though I thought that after a year of it we knew just about everything there was to know about the other. 
“Would you agree that Azriel and Elain are never going to give us a chance?” he asked. 
My heart twinges hearing his name, “Well Az doesn’t know, but even if he did I don’t think he would care. I’m not damsel in distress enough for him.” I snort recalling the unconscious type he has.
“I feel the same about Elain, and there’s something I’ve been thinking about, especially this past week,” he continues still facing the ceiling. 
I prop my head up on his chest wanting to read his face and his eyes flit to me, “Cryptic Vanserra, but go on,” I laugh trying to break the tension. 
“I’ve always been fond of you y/n ever since you visited the spring court all those years ago. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, that admiration has only grown, not to mention you’re a very beautiful female y/n,” he laughs at his own words, a tint of pink dusting his cheek and I can’t help but blush as well. “From the amount of time we’ve been spending together it seems you like me enough, and well…I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he says seemingly avoiding his main point. 
I sit up more, intrigued by his words, “What do you mean Lu?” I inquire. 
“I was wondering if you would like to be Mrs. Lucien Vanserra?” he finally says and my heart nearly stops at the shocking words. “I know I’m not Azriel, but consider me an alternative. I think we could make eachother genuinely happy, maybe help each other enjoy whatever we have left of this miserable life?” he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. 
I let his words sink in as I stare at the bit of wall behind him. As I consider all that he’s said I realize that he’s right, we do get along. I had spent years trying to find a male to fill the hole Azriel put in my  life, but it always felt wrong. It was as if I was taking someone else’s mate, even when the males didn’t have mates.  It didn’t feel wrong being with Lucien because I knew that his mate also didn’t want anything to do with him. 
I was tired of not always having someone to come home to. Not having someone to go to events with. Not having someone to spend holidays with. Not having someone to call my own. I was tired of being alone, especially since I had been alone for about 400 years, but no longer. 
I smile down at Lucien’s nervous face, “I would be honored to be your wife,” I say. 
“You would?” he beams. 
“I would,” I repeated back to him. “You’re right, we do get along, and I’m tired of being alone too.” 
He presses his lips to mine, both of us smiling into the kiss. We would never fill the sadness of a rejected mating bond, but we would be there for one another. I lay my  head down on his chest again, feeling the sleep come into my eyes. 
“How should we do it?” he asked, tracing shapes on my bare back.
“Hmm,” I thought for a moment. A big wedding seemed odd considering we weren’t mates or anything close to it. Eloping seemed more proper. “I think we should keep it small.”
“Do we tell them?” He ponders the most awkward question.
“We can tell them, but we don’t need to invite them. It can be a modified elopement, they will all know but we can just invite my brother and Feyre, that way we both have family there.” I answer snuggling into his warmth more. 
“By the Cauldron I have to tell your brother I’ve been sleeping with you for over a year,” Lucien said anxiously, running a hand down his face. 
I can’t help but laugh at his stress, “He might be a little mad, but I’m sure Feyre will be so excited about it that he won’t care.” I giggle. 
I feel his body relax under my cheek, no doubt realizing that whatever the High Lady says will be law. He slides a red and gold ring off his pinky finger and slips it onto my left hand. 
“Here, it’s a family ring,” he explains looking at the gaudy ring on  my hand. While it fits on my finger well the jewel on it takes up my whole hand and looks unnatural. “I know I’m not part of the Autumn Court anymore but it’s all I have.” he continues.
“It’s perfect,” I laugh, inspecting the ill-fitting thing, “it’s an outcast just like us.”
Lucien's soft chuckle escapes him as he plants a gentle kiss atop my head. Tomorrow promises its usual dose of chaos, but that's a concern for another day. Tonight, here in bed with my fiancé, though this isn't the life I envisioned, I find myself flooded with a happiness I haven't felt in ages.
Part 2,
Part 3 (Lucien's Version)
Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202
1K notes · View notes
chithereader · 3 months ago
Text
stir crazy / aaron hotchner
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
word count: 2k
genre: fluff/angst if you squint
cw: omniscient pov, hotch being vulnerable
Tumblr media
“My agent has been asking me for the manuscript but it’s just not ready yet. And I’ve still got my day job that keeps me busy enough,” It’s a quiet day at the BAU. No urgent cases or serial killers, just a few feet worth of case files. Leaning against Reid’s desk, Rossi, Emily and boy genius himself have been talking about the next big David Rossi book.
“Oh c’mon, I see you typing away in your office and writing in that little notebook of yours– which I know is for your drafts by the way,” Emily teases. Rossi shrugs it off with a soft smirk and looks to the boy genius who has been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes. 
“Nothing to say, kid?” lowering his head to catch the young man’s preoccupied eye but Reid’s sight is incredibly glued far away. 
It took Reid a good 6 seconds to realize he’s kid before he shakes himself out of the trance and answers, “Well, considering the hours he’s spent typing on his personal laptop as opposed to the office computer and adding the minutes he allots on the jet to jot down on his writing notebook– assuming he’s writing in a similar format to his previous books–  I’d say….you’re actually well into the third chapter of your manuscript.” 
Still with his eyes trained on whatever caught his attention in the first place, Reid unsurprisingly impresses Rossi again because he is indeed a little over halfway into the third chapter.
But Rossi and Emily instantly become interested with what or who Reid has been staring at for the past minute, noticing that even when going off on his boy-genius tangent, his stare had been focused somewhere else. 
Reid jumps in his seat a little as the two level their heads on either side of his to see where his gaze has been glued. He had been so focused on figuring out the worrying sight and what caused it that he hadn’t noticed how much of him wasn’t aware of his surroundings. 
To their surprise, they’re met with a seemingly everyday sight: Hotch, in the pantry, stirring his coffee. And by everyday, they mean that to any passerby they’d think this is incredibly normal. Nothing at all out of place or out of character. 
But to the trained eye- to profilers who also spend almost everyday with the man, they slowly see what Reid must have seen. 
Hotch is stirring his coffee. But he doesn’t even put sugar or creamer in his always black coffee. 
He’s doing it absentmindedly. Literally looking lost in his head. Hotch is a busy guy, a busy boss guy, with millions of things to think about, but Hotch is never absent. His movements are always purposeful, precise, and calculated. Never lacking and never excess. 
Hotch has his head tilted down and to the side. Like a perpetually confused puppy. One of the things that make Hotch Hotch is his posture. His rigid, firm posture. Back always so straight, hands always clenched, jaw always tight– Hotch is never just there, his presence alone is commanding. 
And worst of all, Hotch’s hair is neat. Too neat. Okay, Hotch’s habit of being neat -with his pressed suits and shined shoes no matter where he is- naturally extends to how he styles his hair. Over the years, he’s learned to gel it out of his face for both convenience and aesthetic. But this neat- this neat looks a little too flat and ruffled at the same time. Like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times in a matter of minutes. 
So Rossi and Emily finally understand. The two share a look of understanding, while Reid looks up at them with curiosity and a little worry. 
“Do you guys think he’s.. okay?” Reid asks quietly with a little grimace. He looks between the two, trying to figure out what they’re thinking, “I mean it has been exactly 12 minutes that he’s been stirring nothing into his coffee.” 
“12?!” If Emily had any sort of drink in her mouth, she surely would have spat it out all over Reid–for which he is silently thankful she doesn’t because as much as he adores Emily, he’s just not mentally prepared for… well that. 
Finally, there’s movement in the pantry. Unaware of his colleagues now watching his every move, Hotch wakes up from the trance he was trapped in and quickly retreats back into his office with his now-cold cup of coffee. 
Knowing that Rossi’s the only one to easily get through to Hotch, Emily and Reid turn to look at him, wordlessly nudging him to check on the poor man who spent 12 minutes stirring his painfully plain black coffee. 
Raising both his hands as he stands from where he was leaning, Rossi surrenders “Alright alright! But I am not telling you rascals what he tells me in confidence.” pointing at the doe-eyed pair. 
Rossi lets the possibilities run through his head as he walks up the stairs to Aaron’s office. Maybe Jack’s having trouble with that one kid again– what’s his name? Or maybe Jack’s having trouble with Mothers’ Day coming up. That’s never been easy. But the stirring and staring into space and the hair? What could possibly– Knock knock. 
Rossi doesn’t even wait to hear Aaron’s voice. He pushes the door open to be greeted with the sight of Aaron finally looking a little more him: writing on his desk knee-deep in case files. 
Aaron looks up for a second and continues writing reports, “What can I help you with, Dave?” Putting extra pressure on penning that last period before closing the case file and grabbing another to open. 
Dave stays quiet for a bit and takes in the sight. Looks fine to me. But his silence halts Aaron’s writing and he looks up to Dave who’s just studying him by the door. 
“You know you can sit right?” Aaron stoically jokes. 
And a joke?! Dave finally cracks and sits down to say, “Boy genius just watched you stir your coffee for 12 minutes which we all know is black. Your hair’s messy and too fixed at the same time, you were standing in the pantry just minutes ago glaring into nothing. And you were slouching with your head tilted to the side.” 
“Honestly whatever it is, it’s none of my business but you just scared two members of your team and I think this may be the seed of doubt in your leadership skills because you’re finally not a robot.” It was obvious that Dave was trying to play it cool, masking concern with humor and sarcasm. 
But Aaron is a painfully private guy. He’d think it over for days before he decides to open up or seek advice from a close friend. Only he has thought about it for days and not saying anything’s been driving him insane he genuinely feels like he could implode at any second. 
Aaron takes one big breath and through clenched teeth he grumbles out, “It’s a she.” Finally staring Dave straight in the eyes, he clarifies, “the it in whatever it is is a she.” 
Realization and more worry hits Dave at the same time which Aaron clearly sees on his face. But Rossi quickly recovers and gives Aaron a soft, comforting smile, “Well what’s so bad about your she that’s got you so shaken up?” 
In Dave’s head, he’s already preparing responses for the worst: 
She doesn’t approve of my job. Well she can suck it. This is who you are. 
Jack doesn’t like her. Aaron, the one thing I like about kids is that they give it to you straight. I think you should take that as a sign
She’s not comfortable with the age gap. She’s way older. She’s way younger. I’m scarred in more ways than one. I’m not sure I still know how to– 
Aaron could see the increasing concern in Dave’s face, “I just–” he started. 
Dave’s thoughts were cut short by Aaron’s voice, thankfully because his mind was starting to reach the point of no return. Anticipating Aaron’s explanation, he leaned forward in his seat trying to read Aaron’s expression. 
“A few months ago, I’d stay here. After a case, when I know my son’s fast asleep and Jessica’s with him- I’d stay here.” Dave kept quiet, intently listening and trying to piece together where this could possibly go. 
“I would choose to stay here and finish reports, make a dent in the never-ending pile of case files because when I’m focused on helping others, I don’t have time to think of how alone I am.”
Before Dave could try and quell this ‘alone’ sentiment, Aaron quickly follows it up “I love my son. And he’s always been more than enough. And I have the team but… you guys have people to come home to. Arms to fall into at the end of a grueling day.” 
“For the longest time, since Haley.. I haven’t allowed myself to feel. To want. And if I’ve just been honest then it’d be known, I want to be loved. All that I carry, I drop all of it at the door and then there’s just this exhaustion that hits me. And all I want is for someone to hold me.” 
Dave takes all of this in, feeling an immense amount of love and sadness for his friend who deserves nothing but happiness but hasn’t for the longest time allowed himself the one thing that can give him that. 
“I know you think that getting into a relationship makes you a bad father, splitting the only time you have left with someone else instead of your son. But the truth is Aaron, Jack’s growing up. He has his sleepovers, camps, and football now. Soon he’ll leave for parties and college, and as much as he adores you he’ll have his own family.”
“I know. And then I’ll be alone.” Aaron’s voice starts to sound rough. Like this fact’s caught in his throat and he can’t speak. Dave studies Aaron and considers all the things he knows are holding Aaron back.
“So give it a shot.” Dave insists. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just set a date, and show up.” 
Aaron looks at Dave pointedly, “You make it sound easy–” “You make it sound hard.” 
Aaron appears to recover. He smoothes a hand over his tie and straightens his back yet again. In an instant, he’s back to looking stoic and stern with brows furrowed and eyes glaring.
He’s not used to being vulnerable, even in the privacy of his own office. Feeling like an open book for others to read makes goosebumps trail up his spine- in a bad way. Dave quickly reads this and decides to lighten the mood. 
“So…. when will we meet her?” Dave asks smugly. 
“Funny.”
“I understand.. your concerns. But I don’t think you’d be so worried about it if you weren’t already serious about her. So, what’s really going on with her?” 
Aaron thought he could get away without revealing much about her. He’s uncomfortable enough talking about himself, and all the more protective he is when it comes to you. Especially as someone who wants to keep your little world away from the harshness of everything else–
He sighs. He knows Dave is relentless and as payback for his concern, he decides he has to give Dave something. 
“I don’t know. Really. I don’t– I told you one day I’m tiring myself out so I don’t have to come home and process my empty bed as empty..”
“Now I’m tiptoeing in my own kitchen so as to not disturb this crazy singing person washing my dishes while my kid wipes the plates. And I watch them for god knows how long, instead of going up to my office to attend to case files whose deadlines are a bit too close for my liking.” 
“I don’t know,” Aaron shrugs. A soft, weak smile grows on his lips at the memory of you.
Dave stands from the seat, a knowing smirk on his face, “Hmm.” Teasing Aaron as he walks to the door and grabs the handle. 
“I think you’ll be just fine, Aaron. Just fine.” 
544 notes · View notes
bolognamayhem117 · 10 months ago
Text
Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.
Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.
There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.
He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.
He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.
He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.
He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.
He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.
The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.
In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.
Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.
Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.
1K notes · View notes
captain-bubble-wrap · 2 months ago
Note
I'm having a shit day, I need Quinn to fix it
Please and thanks
cw: injury description
Tumblr media
Rain, rain, go away, come again...when you didn't have a hundred errands to run and were short on time to do them. Naturally, it would pour the entire time you were out and about, and your umbrella had decided to break the first time you went to use it. It really set the tone for the rest of the day; a terrible foreshadowing you had hoped wouldn't be the case.
The only reason you were out running those errands in the first place was because you had taken the day off to make sure everything was nice for when Quinn got back home. You knew he was going to be exhausted after finishing another six straight games on the road. Plus, you wanted to enjoy the evening with him knowing nothing would be looming in the back of your mind that would take away from your time together. However, since the minute you got up it was like everything was stacked against you. You had slept through your alarm, getting up almost two hours later than you had intended. You thought you had plugged in your phone but hadn't make a proper connection so your battery was at 12% to start the day. And to add insult to injury (literally), you had dropped a glass while in the kitchen and had cut your hand while trying to pick up the pieces.
Today was proving to be one of those days that were best spent at home, but unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case for you. By this point, your phone was now sitting at 6%, because you realized, after you had left the parking garage, that the charger you left in your car was in Quinn's. You just hoped it would hold on long enough to get you home.
You would be stopped at a red light, mid rush hour, when a message would ding in. It was Quinn and the dreaded text you didn't want to come across your phone until you were already back at his apartment.
"Hey baby, we just touched down. I'll see you soon. I love you."
"I might not be there when you get home. Stuck in traffic. </3 I love you, too. <3 <3 Also, phone is about dead. >:("
"Just be careful. I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too."
- - -
Getting everything out of the car had been hard enough, but carrying them with your cut palm was the worst. Being half asleep and dealing with broken glass was not a good combination, something you would note for the future. Sure, you couldn't have texted Quinn to see if he would help you, which you knew he would have, but you were determined to get it done yourself.
When you stepped into the elevator, from the parking garage, all you could think of was "please don't break down. I do not want to walk up the stairs. I do not want to be trapped in an elevator with a dead phone." Thinking it was a bad idea to put such thoughts into the Universe, you'd just count floors instead until you reached Quinn's.
It was a struggle to unlock the door but you had managed though your hand was burning and you were pretty sure you were bleeding again. Just something else that would get tended to later. Once inside, you'd drop everything at the door and Quinn would come from the bedroom to greet you.
"Oh sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I would have helped you with all of this." He wrapped his arms around you and you melt into his body. "I have missed you so much."
"I'm so glad you're home." All of a sudden and without warning, you begin to cry. Likely a culmination of trash sleep, stress, no food, and pain. Your body and emotions were just fried; not to mention you hated when he was gone for so long.
"What's wrong, baby?" Quinn would say softly, gently tightening his hold on you. "Are you alright?" Anytime you were having a rough day, he was the first person to notice and always did everything he could to make you feel better.
"No," you said, hiding your face in his neck. You weren't ready to have him see how much you were struggling.
"Why don't you go sit, hmm? I'll get this."
"I wanted to have everything done for you but today has been awful."
Quinn pulls away from you just enough to tip your chin up towards his face. You can't escape him now and the look on your face makes his puppy eyes heavy with emotion. "Oh, baby~"
He kisses you several times, each one of them sweeter than the last, yet the tears still continue to fall from your cheeks. "Come on, this stuff can wait."
Taking your non-bandaged hand, he ushers you to the sofa where he insists you sit in his lap so you can be as close to him as possible. You loved moments like these just on better circumstances than today had given you.
"Baby, you're bleeding. What happened?"
You had reached up to brush some hair from your eyes when he caught sight of the bandage now tinged bright red in the center. You dropped your hand to your leg and shook your head. "It's nothing. Just a clumsy accident."
"Let me see."
You refuse, sniffling and trying to hold back the welling tears.
"Please?"
Damn those eyes of his; damn the tone of his voice that just took your breath away. You could never truly tell him no and this was no different. You'd turn your palm upwards when you presented it to him, scared it was worse that you thought it was initially.
"May I look at it?"
You just nod, before laying your head against his shoulder. You didn't want to see it and you knew him pulling back the adhesive of the bandage was going to hurt, even though he had the softest touch.
Quinn was always so careful with you; always asking for permission especially if it would potentially cause you pain. Slowly he'd remove the bandage and you would wince against the discomfort even though he did everything he could to make it easy on you. "How did this happen?"
Quinn's tone conveyed deep worry and hurt and that didn't give you the reassurance you were hoping for.
"This morning. I got up late, and was half asleep taking my vitamins and I guess my hand just stopped working and I dropped it. It shattered everywhere. I didn't realize I had grabbed the raw edge until it was too late and I cut myself."
"Oh sweetheart," Quinn whispered laying his head against yours. "Want me to fix you up?"
"I'll get it."
"Please?"
Twice now, he had used that word with (that) tone, and twice now you would fold without another chance to resist. Again, you would silently nod, letting him slip out from under you while he disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. You remembered how you had left it and it made you feel worse, but when he returned, the only thing that mattered to him was making sure you were alright.
"You said today was awful, how come?" He talked to you while he worked so to keep you from focusing solely on your hand and the pain. Everything he did was so thoughtful.
"I stayed up too late watching The First 48, then I slept through my alarms this morning, so I was two hours behind. I guess I hadn't clicked my charger into my phone fully so it didn't charge. I dropped the glass. I didn't get the apartment cleaned. I didn't get the laundry put away. I forgot my charger was in your car. My umbrella broke." With each added reason for the bad day it made you more emotional to the point that he had to stop cleaning the cut to lay a hand on your leg and try to calm you.
"Shhh, baby, baby, it's okay. None of that matters now. I didn't expect you to be waiting for me at the door. I'm just glad you're here now, but I'm sorry you had such a hard day. The apartment is fine, please, don't worry about it."
"But...I left the bathroom~"
"I don't care about it. Honest. I want you to feel welcome here; I want it to be your home. Home should feel lived in." Quinn leaned forward to kiss you yet you frown. You still felt so bad for everything not being done like you wanted it to be. "If you're here, that's all I want."
"You're so nice," you squeak out, hiding your face with your free hand. You don't realize you were breaking his heart, feeling so bad about missing your self-imposed marks.
"Sweetheart, will you look at me, please?"
Dropping your hand, you let your eyes be exposed though you keep it pressed to your lips.
"You're the only thing I care about when I'm here. If you're okay, I'm okay."
"But I'm not okay."
"And I'm not either. May I finish this for you?" His smile was so sweet, so heartfelt as he held your injured hand in both of his. When you answered "yes, please" Quinn brought it to his lips before finishing what he had started. With each new step of the process, he'd check in with you before continuing. He didn't feel that you had any glass in the wound or that you needed stitches, but he didn't want you to do too much the next few days.
"Alright, babe, all done."
"Thank you."
"Of course. Anything for you," his smile continues. "How about you go change your clothes, get into something comfortable and we'll have a lazy evening in bed. I'll get the groceries put away and we'll order take out. How's that?"
"Do you want some help?"
"No babe, I can get it. It won't take me that long, but thank you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"
"Okay." You give him a kiss as a thank you, later apologizing for your mild breakdown earlier.
"It's alright. You're only human, sweetheart and you had a bad day. I can't say I'd do much better. I'd never judge you for anything like that," Quinn replies, holding your face for another kiss. "I promise."
218 notes · View notes
izvmimi · 1 month ago
Text
cw: fluff. one somewhat violent joke. reader and izuku are married.
It’s not that Izuku doesn’t treat you well - in fact, so well that sometimes it makes you antsy, like a dream that you’ve yet to wake up from - but the nagging sense that something is horribly wrong tears at you as you find the maître d stand of one of the swankiest restaurants in town. You’re still in work attire, having been asked by a text that was a little too somber to meet him at this exact location right after work.
This, on top of a Hey, can we talk today? I love you <3 text, is almost too much to bear.
Before you can be brought to your table, you can see your hapless husband at a table in the corner of the restaurant that appears somewhat deserted for privacy, sporting a smile on his face as he stands up and waves in your direction. He too, is still in work attire, his tie just slightly loosened, either to relax or because he was incessantly pulling at his neck like a nervous puppy as he waited for you. You can sense a little anxiety behind his smile - only you would be able to notice this - and thank the host as Izuku pulls out your chair for you before the host can do it, and then proceeds to tell you about the menu.
This is the first time you’ve seen Izuku since yesterday morning, when you both parted ways for work. Izuku had worked late and you’d fallen asleep before he’d come back; you slept in planning to open the clinic later today, noting that he was gone before you opened your eyes. 
Not without an I love you whispered into your ear with a forehead kiss you barely remember.
And yet, despite the fact that your husband loves you terribly, you’re suddenly very anxious.
Once you’ve ordered sparkling waters and cocktails, you finally lean in, unable to handle the suspense any longer.
“What’s going on, Izuku?”
Izuku looks uncharacteristically unsettled when you’re finally looking at him directly like this, and you notice his hands are not relaxed, hidden below the table. You wonder if he’s making nervous gestures with his fingers. You don’t like that at all.
“How about we get appetizers first?” he asks. “Are you hungry?”
He reaches for a piece of bread and butters it before attempting to hand feed it to you, and you give him a sharp look, but open your mouth regardless to accept it.
“What’s going on? You’re scaring the shit out of me,” you say between bites. He takes a bite of his own food, then looks around. Still abnormally skittish, you find yourself tensing up.
“Izuku…” you whisper under your breath. He gives you an appeasing smile, bigger still when the waiter shows up again with your drinks.
He waits until you take a sip of your drink first before reaching his right hand over on the table.  You’re hesitant to let him hold it, but you haven’t held hands in over 24 hours so you let him take it. A deep breath is let out from both of you in unison.
“So I have to tell you something-”
You genuinely feel your asshole tighten but you don’t let go. Izuku’s eyes are very serious now, eyebrows furrowed, and green eyes with nearly the same glow as you’ve seen before when he starts to use OFA.
“Don’t get mad at me. Please.”
You’re already mad. In fact, your heart is racing. 
This is it. He’s cheating on you. He’s moving to another country. Something messed up with your marriage certificate and you actually never got married and due to some loophole there’s an annulment clause that’s required to save a hundred children trapped in a glacier in Antartica. There’s an alien invasion and he has to deal with it. Maybe he’s pregnant. Maybe-
“So I lost my wedding band."
Your eyes widen and he recoils, a frown on his face. Scratching his head with his other hand, the left hand that is scarred and devoid of any wedding band, he looks genuinely distressed.
“I spent literally all of last night trying to find it, I think whatever quirk this guy used on me last night must have somehow managed to loosen it off my finger, and then I was so embarrassed coming home I didn’t want to risk telling you-” he pauses, and looks up again to check your reaction. You’re still frozen stiff, and he quickly holds both of your hands.
“Listen, I’ll get us a new set, and we’ll engrave them. We can even have another ceremony if you like. I am so, so, so sorry, honey, I didn’t think this would ever happen and I know you warned me not to go on patrol with it on, but it feels wrong to leave it at home and-”
“Izuku.”
He falls silent, and you pull your hand away gently. You can see him go absolutely pale, but you lean back into your chair, and finally let out the loudest sigh of relief.
“I thought I’d have to stab you.”
Izuku blinks.
“What?”
You sigh again, then start laughing, beginning with a short chuckle and then until you’re full blown giggling, watching his confused and disturbed face as he looks at you, then at the butter knife that is a little too within reach.
“What…”
Your laugh is nearly raucous now as if you were a madwoman.
“I was literally trying to figure out how much force I would need to get through that meaty chest of yours, this is truly so funny.”
Izuku pouts which only makes you giggle harder. Practically doubled over, you nearly laugh to tears, only to see that he doesn’t find it funny in the least.
“How is this funny?” he asks.
His arms are crossed over the aforementioned meaty chest, and the cute way with which he pouts only warms your heart.
“I imagined no less than 10 awful scenarios, and you’re here buttering me up because you think I’ll be mad you lost a piece of metal?”
He nearly clutches his pearls.
“A piece of metal?”
You nod, then smile, wiping your tears of laughter away.
“Even if you lost that very finger with the ring, you’d still be mine and I’d still be yours, as long as you wanted to be,” you insist. “I was so afraid you didn’t want to be anymore.”
He ponders for a moment, then looks at you. Reaching out for your hand, he squeezes it tightly then kisses it, once over your wedding band, and then once over the back of your hand.
“I guess I worried for nothing.”
You smile at him.
“So did I, clearly,” you offer. He lets out a sigh of relief as do you, then pulls you in for a kiss. Your waiter, impeccable timing clearly, shows up and clears his throat gently as you draw apart.
“Anything you want from the menu?”
You resettle yourself and your emotions, looking at your ridiculously sweet husband across the table again, remembering decidedly that he is not on the menu, then remember you haven’t looked at it at all.
As if Izuku reads your mind with a glance, he asks, 
“More time, please?”
If the waiter could roll his eyes, he would, and you don’t blame him, but he’s polite when he steps away to give you the time to stop wasting his time.
As soon as the waiter is out of sight, Izuku looks at you again, mischief in his eye.
“What about matching tattoo rings?”
You scrunch your mouth to the side.
“Perhaps cheesy…”
He frowns.
“But…” you start, dipping bread in seasoned oil and raising it to his lips. He bites and smiles at you, chewing.
“I’ll consider it, my love.”
317 notes · View notes
whateveriwant · 2 months ago
Text
Ok ok ok hear me out for a second. What if Simon has dimples?
I know that in reality, even if he did have dimples, the chances of you knowing is probably slim to none. I mean, it’s not like that man is exactly forthcoming when it comes to sharing his identity with others, right? For Christ’s sake, his own teammates have likely seen his bare face only a handful of times. I doubt the number of times they’ve seen him visibly express any kind of emotion is much better.
But just imagine that you do get a chance to see his dimples; that you’re one of the lucky few that can say you’ve had a glimpse of the real man beneath the mask. Imagine you’re sitting in a dingy pub one night, shooting the shit with your mates, trying to slyly admire the rare peep you have of your Lieutenant’s unmasked face. Maybe Johnny or Kyle or whomever tells some dumb joke that gets the whole group laughing, and as you instinctively look over to catch Simon’s reaction, imagine the awe that would overtake you upon spotting his lopsided grin.
In all the time you’ve worked with Simon, you must’ve imagined what his smile looks like a thousand times. In your mind’s eye, you’ve conjured up a hundred different variations – how his lips would part, his nose would crinkle, his cheeks would round with gentle amusement. But in all those fantasies, all those hours spent daydreaming, you never, not once in your life, imagined he could have dimples. And now that you’re quite literally face to face with the evidence, you wonder how you could have ever been so daft to exclude them.
And it’s amazing, really, how much those two little indentations seem to instantly transform Simon’s face. They shave about 10, even 15 years off his age, imbuing him with this sort of boyishness that offsets his otherwise grisly appearance. To most people, the sight before you would be nothing remarkable – a smile no different than any other. But to you, this cheek-splitting grin reveals so much more. It shows you that beneath the scars and the marks and the brutal reminders of his past lies a handsome, benign man just begging to be noticed.
Of course, with the way you’re admiring him like he’s a block of marble carved by Michelangelo himself, sooner or later Simon is bound to feel the weight of your gaze pressing into him. So when he turns to look at you with that quizzical notch to his brow, you’re quick to swivel your head in the opposite direction, but not before meeting his eye for a second or two.
Shame heats the back of your neck for having been caught staring at your Lieutenant, burning a hole in the side of your head from where he now peers at you. And yet, despite your sense of embarrassment, there’s another feeling boiling away in your belly. It’s a curious sensation, tingly almost, like how you imagine a child feels the first time they witness a magnificent fireworks display.
In all honesty, you feel like you could float out of your seat right now, not stopping until you reach the Earth’s upper atmosphere. It’s like one look at Simon’s infectious smile has fundamentally rewired your brain. Though by the time you risk another glance at him his dimples have totally vanished, that doesn’t stop that giddy feeling from churning inside you, nor does it stop your mind from racing.
And so for the rest of the night, as you sit in that dark pub only half listening to conversations going on around you, you make a silent vow to yourself. You swear to do everything in your power to make Simon smile again and to keep him smiling for as long as physically possible, because, in your eyes, there’s not a prettier sight in this world to behold.
310 notes · View notes
dragon-kazansky · 10 months ago
Text
Bridgerton shade of blue
Tumblr media
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms
♡♡♡
Your mother does not keep her thoughts to herself about what dancing with Benedict Bridgerton may have done for you. All evening, even after you are home, she continues on and on about the thought of having callers come morning.
You sleep easy that night. You do not think one dance with a man, you will be unlikely ever to cross paths again with, will affect your prospects all that much.
You're woken by the violent pulling of your curtains. Light floods into your room and cascades across your bed. You sigh softly as you force your eyes open and push yourself up into a sitting position.
"Get up! We must get you dressed and ready!" Your mother eagerly exclaims.
You're forced from your bed and urged into the tub. You're scrubbed raw from head to toe. Your hair is brushed surely a hundred times. You dress, and your mother chooses a necklace to compliment your gown.
Before you know it, you're sitting in the drawing room with her. Your mother has tea and biscuits made.
The drawing room is quiet.
Occasionally, a carriage is heard passing the house. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of staff coming and going outside the door. Not a single sound of knocking is heard.
Your mother becomes restless as the hours pass. "I was certain Mr Bridgerton dancing with you would garner some attention."
"Mother, it was one dance. Anyway, people had their eyes on his sister. No one was looking at us. He barely spoke to me." You tell her, picking up a book you had placed on the table earlier that morning.
"Still, that family is well known and wealthy too. People should always be watching those lf well breeding." She sighs.
You dare not comment further and focus on your book. You've read two chapters before your mother calls it quits and leaves. You close the book and sigh again.
♡♡♡
Daphne Bridgerton had received no callers. The fault did not lie with her for she was perfect in every way. The fault lay with her eldest brother.
Anthony had a habit of scaring everyone off. He had every excuse under the sun as to why no one was suitable for his sister. While his mother wished love for her children I their marriages, Anthony saw more as finding someone merely suitable.
Daphne was disappointed at her lack of visitors. Each day that passed without a caller, her spirit began to dwindle.
She received only one caller. Lord Berbrooke. He was the last person she had hoped to see.
While Violet had been quite busy keeping her daughter company during the passing days, she still found time to corner Benedict.
Colin was paying a visit to the Featherington family to call upon Miss Thompson. Benedict was not calling upon anyone, and Violet hoped the young lady he had danced with could have been an option.
"Benedict."
The second eldest son jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of his mother in the doorway.
"Mother."
Benedict had spent most of the day sketching in his book. He loved drawing, painting, and doodling. Art was his passion. He hoped one day to be good enough to have his work up in galleries.
"Have you paid any visits yet?" Violet asks, pretending to be interested in the decor of the room as she comes closer to where her son lounges.
Benedict stills his hand and glances up at her. "I have not."
Violet looks disappointed. "What about that lovely young lady you danced with?"
"Hm? Oh. I don't even remember her name."
That was a lie. He did remember your name. He just didn't want give his mother false hope. Benedict had no intention of seeking out a wife right now.
"Benedict," she sighs. "I do wish you would try."
"How is Daphne doing?" He asks, immediately shooting down any chance of his mother's interrogation.
"Not so well. Anthony is riding with her in the park. Your brother is... making things quite difficult." Violet feels for her daughter. She juat wants Daphne to be happy. She wants all her children to be happy.
"Yes. Anthony can be overbearing." Benedict resumes his sketch.
Violet knew she would get nothing else out of her son and left quietly. Benedict stopped sketching when she left the room and glanced at the door. He sighs softly to himself.
One day, yes, he'll find a wife. Just not yet.
♡♡♡
Lady Whistledown had made several comments about Daphne Bridgerton's lack of callers. You could only wonder how she was feeling at this time.
Every morning, your mother brought you into the drawing room, and you would wait several hours, but no one came to see you.
While your mother moaned about how the gentlemen lf the ton didn't have an eye at all, she particularly felt disappointed about the fact Benedict Bridgerton himself didn't even come to call. You had told her many times over the last week that the dance wasn't really anything.
He simply used you as an opportunity to avoid his mother, and you knew it.
Deciding to push every Bridgerton from your mind, you decided to focus on yourself. Another ball would mean another chance. There would be plenty of people to dance with there. You shall make sure to introduce yourself, unlike last time.
The opera. That came first. You were attending with your mother. As you were making your way toward your seats, you caught sight of Violet Bridgerton with her daughter Daphne. You didn't have to look far to spot Anthony and Benedict.
Your mind shifts slightly to the moment when you had bumped into the eldest son. The weight of his body colliding with yours, almost sending to the ground. However, his warm hands were quick to steady you.
You shake him from your mind as you find your seat.
Benedict had been speaking his brother when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you sitting down. He turns his attention back to his brother.
If his mother caught him, he would never hear the end of it. Even if there was nothing to discuss. You were a perfect stranger to him.
You spend the whole show with your eyes on the stage. When it's over, you rise with your mother and exit into the lobby. Your mother gets caught up in conversation with some of the other mama's, and you find yourself waiting by the door alone. Your eyes scan the crowds of people heading home for the evening.
Benedict is walking with his brother when he spots you by the door. He can't help thinking you look a little cold standing there. The door was open to allow people to leave with ease.
"Hello again." He finds himself stopping I front of you. Anthony either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he is no longer being followed by his brother.
You turn your head and find yourself staring at the second Bridgerton.
"Hello."
Silence settles between you as he stands there and looks at you. You're once again faced with a slightly awkward pause as you have no idea what to say to him. Last time, he was distracted by keeping his mother at bay. This time, it seems he simply has no idea what to say to you either.
"Are you well?" He asks.
You are almost startled by the sound of his voice, half expecting him to just leave after a while.
"Yes. Quite well, thank you."
Benedict takes note of how you pull your shawl around you tighter. The breeze from the door is clearly bothering you.
"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.
"My Mama. She is busy gossiping, I assume." You move your gaze over to where she stands, talking to a little group of other mothers.
Benedict glances that way and chuckles slightly. "Ah. Why don't you wait over on that bench? You'll be warmer there." He gestures to the velvet cushioned seat behind you. You find yourself drifting that way with him.
"I believe your brother has departed." You say, sitting down. Benedict takes a seat too.
"Yes. Though Mother and Daphne are still here, I shall return with them." He looks over to where his mother speaks with Lady Danbury.
Soon enough, his attention is back on you, though. "Did you enjoy the ball the other night?" He asks.
You look at him. "It was alright. The first one is always strange."
"Yes. I suppose it can be. Lots of new faces."
You understood that he was possibly referring to the fact that neither of you had seen each other before, despite your knowing of his family.
"Yes."
"How many names did you get on your card?"
"Just one," you confess. It was true that his name was the only one. You danced with no other that night, for no one spared you a glance. Not that you planned on telling him that.
"I was the only one?"
You turn toward the lobby to avoid his gaze. Benedict understands enough. He is surprised by this information.
"I do not recall you being there the day the debutantes were presented to the Queen." He tries changing the topic. He wants to know you a bit better.
"I wasn't in London. I arrived the day after."
He looks at you quietly for a moment. There is something so calming about your presence.
"How is your sister doing?" You ask, spotting Daphne trying to avoid a certain lord.
"She has only had one caller so far." Benedict points out.
"Oh. Surprising. I was sure she would be swarmed with suitors." You glance back toward her. She looks a little down.
"She'll be fine, I'm sure." Benedict turns back to you. "I'm sorry about the ball. I wasn't a very good partner. Too distracted."
You return your attention back to him. "Yes. I was aware."
"Perhaps I can make it up to you at the next one?" He asks.
"It's alright. You don't need to." You offer him a smile.
"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman." He smiles back.
Before either of you can say any more, Violet comes over with Daphne in tow. You both look up to see the Dowager Viscountess smiling at you both.
"Benedict, we are leaving." She speaks softly.
Benedict glances at you and then stands slowly. He offers you his hand. You take it and stand with him.
"Mother. Daphne." He nods.
"Who is this?" Violet asks, looking at you. She gives off a warm and calming aura. Yet, she looks quite excitable right about now.
Benedict speaks your name. "I was keeping the young lady company while she waited for her mother."
Violet hadn't once taken her eyes off of you. Daphne looked up at her brother, who just shook his head at her. He knew what they were thinking. He was going to hear about this all night now.
"You must come to dinner," Violet insists.
You all look at her.
"Mofher." Benedict sighs.
Daphne smiles and steps forward. "Really, you must."
You look at Daphne and feel comfort. Perhaps she is looking for a friend too.
"Name the day," you say, turning to Violet.
Benedict looks at his mother with faux disdain. He knows what game she is playing. His mother was not subtle in her matchmaking attempts.
"Splended. I shall send an invite very soon."
Much to the ignorance of her children, she had already made plans with Lady Danbury to invite the Duke for dinner so he may get to know Daphne. They would make a handsome couple, she thinks. Why not offer the same opportunity to her son and his new friend?
Violet was so looking forward to this.
Benedict bids you goodnight and offers Daphne his arm. She takes it and bids you farewell too. Violet smiles at you and takes her leave, following her children outside.
Only then does your mother come over. "What was that just now?" She asks. The same light in her eyes had been in Violet's.
"Nothing, Mama."
She doesn't believe you. She traps your arm with hers and guides you out to the carriages.
"That Bridgerton boy, he was the one who danced with you at the ball, yes?" She smiles.
"Benedict Bridgerton. Yes."
"Perhaps you have an admirer!" She says with glee.
"Not st all, mother. He was merely being polite."
She brushes off your words and continues to go down a spiral of why he is taken with you and will wish to court you soon. You sense no such feelings from the man. There is no reason one cannot become acquainted with others without feelings being involved.
You would accept the dinner invitation purely out of curious interest of his family. The Bridgerton's certainly seem like interesting people to know.
♡♡♡
Benedict is sketching in his room when his mother comes in. They had been home merely an hour after the opera. She clutches a letter in her hand as she comes over to him.
"How does this sound?" She holds out the letter to him. Benedict sighs and takes it, skimming the words.
Its addressed to you.
'You are invited to our home this Friday evening for dinner. Be here for 6 and stay as long as you like.
Lady V.Bridgerton.'
"Sounds fine." He hands the letter back. Benedict returns to his sketch.
Violet looks at him. "She's a find lady."
"Hm." Benedict pays her little mind.
Violet looks defeated. It would seem Benedict really has no interest in you. Still, she would welcome you into her home for the evening.
When she leaves, Benedict looks up again. He stares at the door.
He simply has no interest in courting. Not yet.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertons - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived -
857 notes · View notes
meazalykov · 3 months ago
Text
wrong number
bayern munich frauen x reader
1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6
"who are you, and why do you have my number?"
Tumblr media
you've been preparing for this move for what feels like forever.
the idea of leaving your small hometown in virginia to live in munich is both exciting and terrifying. you’ve spent weeks packing your things, saying goodbyes, and trying to mentally prepare yourself for the massive change that’s about to happen. 
sure, you’ve dreamed about studying abroad for a long time. now that it’s here, the reality of it feels overwhelming.
you’re going to be thousands of miles away from home, from everything you’ve ever known. your family is supportive, and your friends have been hyping you up nonstop. yasmeen, your closest friend, has been particularly great about helping you stay grounded, always there to distract you from the “what ifs” when the anxiety gets a little too intense. 
today is one of those days.
the two of you had planned a mall trip—something normal and fun before the whirlwind of final packing and travel arrangements takes over. well, yasmeen says that you need a new closet for munich and you don’t disagree.
it feels good to be doing something so ordinary, especially when you know that soon enough, everything in your life is about to be not-so-ordinary. 
you’ve been to this mall a hundred times with yasmeen, today feels a little more special though. maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware that you won’t have moments like these once you’re in germany.
will you make friends in germany? what if germany turns out horribly? are the people nice? is there xenophobia you might experience due to yourself being american? these thoughts plagued the back of your mind. 
"you’re gonna miss me so much, you know that, right?" yasmeen teases as the two of you walk through the mall’s food court, eyeing the chick-fil-a counter but opting for chipotle instead.
you roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your elbow with the arm that's carrying your aritzia bag. 
"i’ll miss your constant harassment, that’s for sure."
"constant harassment? i’m literally the best thing that ever happened to you!"
"okay, sure," you laugh. 
honestly, yasmeen has been a huge part of your life for the past few years. she was the first person you clicked with back in high school, and now it feels weird to think about going through the next few years without her by your side. 
you’re trying not to dwell on it, though. you’ll still have facetime, you tell yourself. 
after grabbing and eating your rice bowls, you both head toward the stores. it’s one of those days where everything feels easy—there’s no pressure to buy anything. you did though obviously.
at one point, yasmeen holds up a bright red kit with a smirk.
"ouu a bayern munich kittt. you should totally buy it, you will fit in with the munich community."
you tilt your head, laughing. 
"what is that? i don’t even watch soccer."
"woah! you better once you hit germany– i heard soccer to them is like how the nfl is to americans."
you shake your head but decide to try it on anyway. yasmeen snaps a photo and tells you that you look like you’re about to cheer for some random german soccer team. 
you don’t think much of it and put the jersey back, moving on to the next store.
as the day goes on, you feel a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. it’s nice being here, with your best friend, doing normal things, but there’s a part of you that’s itching to start this next chapter of your life. 
it’s like you’re stuck in this weird limbo between your old life and the new one that’s waiting for you on the other side of the world.
eventually, after several hours of shopping, you realize your phone had died. you don’t even remember when it happened. 
you’ve been so caught up in the moment with yasmeen that you didn’t notice the battery draining.
"ugh, my phone’s dead," you say, glancing at the blank screen.
yasmeen shrugs. 
"mine’s still good. if anything, i can call you an uber."
"nah, i’m good. i’ll just charge it when i get home."
you both grab shoes at birkenstock before say your goodbyes outside the mall. yasmeen gives you an extra tight hug. 
"don’t get caught up with your european friends and forgetting about me, okay?"
"never," you promise.
when you get home, you immediately plug your phone into the charger and head straight to the shower. 
the hot water feels good against your skin, washing away the stress of the day. you’ve got so much on your mind—packing, travel plans, what your life is going to look like in a few weeks—but right now, standing under the stream of water, you feel calm. 
you let your thoughts drift away and focus on the simple rhythm of the water hitting your shoulders.
when you finally get out of the shower, you feel refreshed, like maybe you can tackle all the things on your to-do list without getting overwhelmed.
when you grab your phone and take it off of your charger, you notice something strange. 
it’s blowing up with notifications. you squint at the screen, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 
there’s a new group chat, and it’s filled with numbers you don’t recognize.
confused, you open the messages. the chat is already deep into a conversation about something, but none of it makes sense to you.
+49 176 1234567: pernille you’re AMAZING wtf was that!!!!????? 
+49 171 7654321: arsenals defense during this match had nothing on you or syd holy shit
your brows furrow. arsenal? match? what are they talking about? you know absolutely nothing about this conversation. 
hell, you’re not even sure what country arsenal plays for. the confusion only grows as you scroll up to see more of the conversation.
you: hi?
almost immediately, your message is met with a flood of responses.
+49 171 7654321: giulia! finally! where have you been?
+49 178 1233567: we’ve been trying to reach all day, i know we had no training but are you okay?
your heart skips a beat. giulia? who the hell is giulia? you’ve definitely never gone by that name.
you: uh, i think you’ve got the wrong number. i’m not giulia.
for a moment, the chat goes silent. you stare at your phone, wondering if you should just leave the group.
before you can, a new message pops up.
+49 176 1234567: wait, what?
+49 171 7654321: did we add the wrong number again?
+49 171 11122222: sydney, you’re an idiot. you added the wrong number!
there’s a pause before a new number is added to the group.
+49 152 3334444: you guys finally added me.
you assume this is the real giulia. still, no one seems to be kicking you out of the chat, and before you know it, the conversation picks up again.
+49 176 1234567: giulia, you missed our whole debate about the arsenal match.
+49 171 7654321: yeah, and we were saying bayern needs to keep it up for juventus.
you stare at your phone, more confused than ever. arsenal, bayern… these are clearly soccer teams, but why are they talking to you? you don’t even watch soccer. eventually, you decide to chime in.
you: um?? i have no idea what any of you are talking about. 
this time, the chat explodes with messages.
+49 171 7654321: what?!
+49 176 1234567: how do you not know bayern munich?
+49 175 7778888: do you watch fusball? 
+49 171 1112222: okay, who are you?
+44 177 9900000: ok guys that makes me feel better about this not being a crazy fan.
+49 170 4479173: i agree with georgia 
you explain your situation—that you’re a 21-year-old college student from virginia, and you somehow got added to this group chat by mistake. 
you tell them about your upcoming move to munich for your study abroad program, hoping to clear up the confusion.
+49 152 3334444: wait… you’re moving to munich? like… munich, germany?
+49 171 7654321: that’s insane omg we all live in munich.
+44 171 9900000: wtffff 
+49 176 1234567: this is such a weird coincidence.
you blink at your screen. this is getting stranger by the second. what are the odds that you’d get added to a random group chat full of people who live in the exact city you’re about to move to?
+49 171 1112222: okay, but how do we know you’re not some creepy dude pretending to be a girl?
+49 172 4567389: LMAO LENA 
+57 170 9193831: wait… 
you roll your eyes at the suspicion but understand why they might be cautious. so, you send them your instagram handle to prove you’re real. 
you: ew, i am not some old dude. @ y/n.l/n is my insta, just me out for yourselves.
after a few minutes, messages start pouring in again.
+49 152 3334444: yep, she’s legit.
+49 176 1234567: okay, cool. she seems sweet.
+49 171 9718193: guys laura would love her photography skills
you: who’s laura
+49 171 9900000: someone from the german national team. she plays in frankfurt
+44 177 9900000: this is so cool idky why.. usually i’d be freaked out
a few new followers pop up on your instagram notifications, and you open the app to check. you almost drop your phone when you see that some of the accounts following you are verified. 
*sydneylohmann is now following you*
and another 
*georgiastanway is now following you* 
*tuvahansen is now following you* 
and more.. 
*leaschuller is now following you* 
*lenaoberdorf is now following you* 
*kathi.ng is now following you* 
*pharder10 is now following you*
*guzman013_ is now following you* 
*sarahzadrazil25 is now following you* 
now it seems like the whole team is catching on.. 
*buehlklara is now following you* 
*magdalenaeriksson26 is now following you* 
*magou_doucoure is now following you* 
*dahmannlinda is now following you* 
it's until you do a quick google search that you realize who they are.
they’re professional soccer players.
you sit there, staring at your phone, completely in shock. you’ve somehow stumbled into a group chat full of actual women’s soccer players. 
trying to play it cool, you decide to treat them like normal people.
after all, you don’t even know anything about soccer, so it’s not like you’re going to fan out over them.
you: so, what are your names? i want to save your numbers because all of the unsaved numbers are overwhelming haha 
they go around introducing themselves, and you quickly type their names into your phone, saving each number under the name they give you.
+49 152 3334444: i’m giulia
+49 171 7654321: sydney
+44 177 9900000: georgia s 
+49 179 7777777: lea 
+57 170 9193831: ana g. there’s two ana’s so i’d add the last name letter to tell the difference 💜
it’s surreal, somehow you find yourself chatting with them like they’re any other group of girls you’d meet in a random group chat. 
they even start to warm up to you after a few days, especially after you tell them more about your move to munich. 
a few of them offer to show you around the city once you get there.
georgia: honestly, munich’s great. you’re going to love it.
sydney: we can help you find all the best spots.
lena: i can definitely ☺️
lea: lena you just moved here from wolfsburg.. 
lena: lea shushhhh 🙄
pernille: ??? 
you smile at your phone, feeling a little less nervous about the move. it’s strange, but you’re actually starting to look forward to meeting these girls in person. 
sure, they’re professional soccer players, but they’re also just… normal people. and they seem to like you.
as the chat continues, you get the sense that they trust you. maybe it’s because of your instagram or the way you’ve been honest with them from the start, but whatever it is, they don’t seem to mind that you accidentally got added to their group. 
in fact, they seem to enjoy having you around.
klara: you seem chill. i know its been a week since you’ve been added but do you promise to keep our secrets safe? 
lena: ^
you: i promise. i like you guys! 
it’s not every day you accidentally make friends with a group of famous athletes, but somehow, that’s exactly what’s happened. 
as strange as it is, you’re kind of excited about it.
part two here
171 notes · View notes