#i've just been feeling it this year i guess. i got stuck on it for a couple weeks and just kept looping back to it
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as stated in the updated pinned post, we are diverging from the canon roleswap timeline starting nnnnnnnow :) ask boxes are open again!
[ Transcript under the cut ]
Hey Curly, I just wanted to check in with you. Things have been a little weird recently with this nearby satellite..
Are you doing okay?
Hey Captain!
Funny business, isn't it? I don't think we've ever had anything like this happen before.
It's okay, though. Sometimes I kind of want to follow Daisuke's example, but most people are nice.
What about you, everything alright on your end?
Me too, there's just so much going on at all times, haha.
Everything is mostly alright. I've got nice people, but some of them.. They're just getting under my skin. I should probably put the phone down.
How bad is it? My worst has been spam messages, mostly. Did you know the Halcyon colonies are reopening admission?
Makes you wonder why they need new people so soon after launch.
Oh yeah! I don't think I'm going to take their offer, I'm pretty content with Earth.
As for the messages.. I don't know. Some of them are just.. Mean, I guess. I don't want you to worry about it, I can handle it, it's just frustrating.
Have you gotten any fun messages though? I got one not that long ago asking about how I felt being a pilot, it was a nice question.
'Mean'? I'm sure you know that sounds worrisome. Are you okay?
Ah, I can't even remember all of them! There is this Martian scientist who gave me the scoop of planetary warfare amongst their kind, someone who is very intent on educating me about possums, and I even reconnected with someone from my med school years, that was pretty wild. Also someone from an actual gunship patched into our frequency, apparently their surname is the same as yours? Do you know a Hideo?
I'm really fine, if I couldn't handle a few weirdos, I wouldn't be on this ship lol
But.. That's very interesting. I don't know if I have any familiar faces on my end, so consider me jealous of you. I can't say that I know a Hideo? Should I?
Now who are you calling a weirdo? :-)
I don't know if you should! If it's a coincidence then certainly an amusing one, guess Musumes are just made to be captains. :-)
Maybe so.. I'll have to start a club then, Captain Musume club.
And I would NEVER call you a weirdo, Nurse Curly, never ever......
Uh huh. I believe you.
:-)
What is weird is just...how much some of these people seem to know. I wonder if our phones were hacked into somehow? Do you think I should be worried about my Meeboo subscription at this rate?
I feel like I should be more shocked but with how much of our data gets sold off and leaked on a daily basis, I can't find myself to be horrified.
You should definitely worry about your Meeboo subscription though.
...Fair point.
Well, if my streaming services are what takes the brunt of exposure, I suppose I could live with that.
Do you think that's how they found out about your nurses calendar? If that's even a real thing.. Did you ever model for a nursing calendar? Lol
Haha!
No, god no. I could never. Can you imagine me in a pin-up calendar? That would be bonkers.
No, I was just joking. I guess the very nature of their, uh, request was too much for my English sensibilities, so I turned to my trusty defence mechanism honed by generations of haughty stuck-ups.
...How did you know about that?
Well we certainly love a modest king..
I was told about it by one of the messages I got, I didn't know if it was true or not but I guess my curiosity was piqued. Sorry, it was inappropriate to ask.
Oh god, are they still harassing you about me? I'm so sorry.
They are strangely...invested.
I hope it's not too much of a bother. And I doubly hope they cease soon.
I don't mind too terribly, I just feel bad talking about you when you're unaware. I certainly try to keep my answers vague so that I can maintain your privacy.
Truly, I don't know if I should be offended or relieved they ask me more about you than they do myself, haha!
I'd go for relieved! Or perhaps even flattered. They seem to think highly of your captaining skills. :-)
They do! I'm not sure how they know about THAT information, but I'll take what I can get!
I can't say i blame them, it's pretty obvious!
I mean
Crew ratings should be public access, right? Based on delivery reviews and stuff. Or could be if they weren't and got leaked too.
I definitely don't doubt that...
I don't know, they seem fairly invested in my love life as well. Which goes beyond the scope of simple work appraisal. I've been asked if I'm single, who my type is. I felt like I was filling out a dating application lol
Haha, funny that
You could lean into that too, if you wanted to, let them do all the legwork. It's worse than the Wild West on those apps sometimes.
I'm not trying to find someone through texting strangers, besides, it seems they already have my ideal love interest picked out for me. They're trying to cause trouble is what they're doing.
And how do you even know what those apps are like? Isn't that like.. Cheating for you?
Oh shoot. Er
It would be! It totally would be if. If I were still in a relationship.
Which I'm not. For the record.
In any case, not that I prowl those apps much, it's not really uh, worth it for me.
What? Since when are you not??
You were just talking about Marie before we took off. Unless.. Did you break up when we got service...?
Yeah, haha, turns out it's not always great when familiar faces text you, right?
But yeah, she... It's not easy, I guess, dating someone who isn't there for half a year at a time at least, you know?
It was kind of a long time coming, so. She just was the braver one out of the two of us to cut the cord.
Sorry, didn't mean to be a downer. It really is okay though. We're good, and. I think I've kind of went through the stages of grief back when we were still earthside.
So. Not a big deal.
I'm so sorry, Curly :( I wish you would've told me. I'm still here if you need to talk, okay? Breaking up sucks, even if you see it coming.
Oh no, I promise it's okay! It really, really is
I'm okay, it's not a big deal.
I mean, it would be, it
But it's not like
I didn't really
She maybe...didn't really...exist?
Curly what are you saying right now
I am a fool is what I'm saying :-(
I'm so sorry.
Any chance we could pretend I never said anything?
How are we supposed to do that? I don't even know what to say.
Why would you lie about that?
...Could we talk?
I mean, in person.
I'll explain everything, just
I'm afraid of how much of this might get exposed.
Please.
Yeah
Are you in the medbay? I'm on my way.
Yes.
Thank you.
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I met the me who made different choices
#idk what this means so dont ask#got the words stuck in my head and this is what I wanted to draw for it immediately#me at my desk. so.#I dont look exactly like this obviously. doesnt matter. anyways#hard time recently in a lot of different ways#lots of work to do!#given up on getting everything done I kind of failed at that. it was too much#so now I'm just trying to get anything done that will make the next 6 months not kill me again#ideally. 3 episodes. or the book#or like at least close enough to that that its basically that#I'm feeling really screwed LOL#I dont know how I've been working every day for so long and still havent done enough...#(its because the work load is way too much)#every time I take 1 hour for myself. to cook. or clean. or draw something else. or play a game. I feel so guilty auauau#I hate webtoon I hate this damn green app...#DOESNT MATTER!!!#what DOES matter is my art is good as hell... look at this shit...#the light. the colors. I love you red I love you green#I need to get more red pants I only have the one pair.#I saw this guy with red pants that had skeleton legs on them and I was like FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!! I need them!!!!#I need to start sewing again. I dont have a sewing machine cause my apartment is too small so I havent sewn in years but I really want to..#I want to make clothes again... I need some vests I need some dresses..#I will not make pants or sleeved shirts because I dont hate myself#sketch#art#vent art I guess LMFAO its not#its just this fun little thing we like to call self expression#also this isnt how my desk setup actually is I scooted things around cause I didnt wanna draw anything twice. fuck it we ball#ok back to work
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..
#hi back for now bc it's fall break and I'm stuck on campus#trying not to complain about it but I've been having stomach issues for at least the past couple of weeks#it's been acting up since I got here but the past few weeks and specifically the past few days it's become a lot more intense#I made an appointment with the medical clinic here on campus and they're treating me with something for a possible stomach ulcer right now#I have a follow-up in a couple of weeks#I'm struggling to keep on top of all my thoughts and feelings and emotions right now too#which may be causing or compounding the stomach issues. honestly who knows.#all I know for sure rn is that I feel very tired and worn out despite it being fall break#and I wish I didn't feel this way#kinda sad and very tired#it's a perfect opportunity to catch up on school work that I've fallen behind on. and yet I feel completely unable to even think#about school. hhhhh. 🙃#it's been such a hard year guys. and I don't want to complain or wallow but I wish I could just break down have a good cry#or a screaming fit if needed#just get it all out#and then maybe I'd be able to cope a little better#unfortunately I'm not sure that's how it works. so I guess I'm stuck feeling like this for now.
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having tea this lovely morning bc i got my yearly Bad Throat+Nose Time :) never fails
#just me hi#On phone cuz I don't have the energy to grab my computer rn lmaoo#Anyway I get this Every Year since I was like. hm well for as long as I can remember but we all know we can't trust that Lmfvshfh#Though usually I get it around Christmas. Like a couple weeks or Days before christmas which sucks cuz I like singing the carols at mass </#But no carols this year + I only got it last night so that's interesting I guess hfvshf#//BTW this tea feels like it has licorice in it#I can't taste it exactly but if you know what I'm talking about licorice tea gives a Feeling#In the mouth. Can't quite explain it I just know it's good lol#/it's uncomfortable to swallowwwww wauhhhh :(#Still caught myself doing carols earlier though so we're not at the stage where we borderline can't speak ehe :3#I've had 3 kinds of can't speak from this thing before and they all hurt lmfvshf 💥#I've had the Genuinely Can't Make Sounds Oh The Agony Ohhhhh#I've had the Whispering For Weeks#And I've also had that odd one that is Can't Use My Upper Pitch So I'm Stuck Speaking From The Chest Which Is Annoying lolll#Still have my normal voice rn though even though it's like eating fistfuls of woodshavings :D#/Also I have been RAPID fire sneezing. Olympic stuff you would not Believe#ma believes it's trolly just the sudden weather change which would make sense#But again this happens every year without fail so#/it's not contagious either I'm just suffering alone. Can't even take any of my siblings down with me what kind of torment is this#//ooouu my tea's cooling down :3 I can now sippy#//i have gotta do smth aby the autocorrect on this phone it's killing me Gkfvhsg#Gonna go fix that rn TOODLES
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The Motherfucking Lizard King
No one at work trusts my boss.
He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town.
Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse?
I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed.
He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now.
So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it.
---
My job has glue traps.
No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life.
If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just
You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you.
People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out.
I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me.
I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps.
And just because of that, they're willing to follow me.
---
My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.
People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was:
Do NOT mess with animals in the building.
So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences.
I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop.
Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve.
And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went
I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover.
So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell.
So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair.
I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.
I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.
A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right?
And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes.
And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said
Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil?
I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question.
Who grabbed the snake? I asked.
Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right.
ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No.
---
The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago.
We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again.
You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think.
But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be.
That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.
---
The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.
Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read
"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."
I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.
How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.
You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.
I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.
Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.
---
The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.
We'll see if he squanders it.
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your first mission with simon ghost riley didn't go very well.
cw: smutty, ghosts a brat
the cell door you had been working to override had slammed in ghost's face, and at his attempt to open it, you could hear him mutter a curse under his breath.
"fuckin' hell."
"what happened?" you walked over to where he was, and once you tried to pull on the same door, you realized. you two were stuck in the cramped, dark and wet jail cell.
"fuck,” you exhaled and pinched the bridge of your nose.
"stop copying me, cunt."
"oh go to hell, ghost."
"no thanks, i'm trying to get as far away as possible from ya, baby."
you groan out in frustration and banged your head against one of the bars, the condensation sticking to your hair, and all ghost could do was chuckle at you.
"you're so fucking dense."
"eat shit," you hissed out as you swung a closed fist at his chest.
once you made contact, you knew that it was very possible it was your last moments before death.
simon crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the floor while shaking his head, "tsk," he took a step towards you, "always gotta be so physical," he shoved you back, causing your body to slam against the brick wall.
and guess what? you shoved him the fuck back.
"if you think for one second," you shoved him again, this time pulling his shoulder strap down so he was at eye level with you, "that I'm gonna let you throw me around just cause you want to, you're fucking hilarious. you've got a lotta nerve to even think about touching me, let alone push me back when I've pushed you first-“
ghost grabbed both of your arms from the front of you and shoved them behind your back, pushing your tits out from your shirt and right below his face. he looked down at your cleavage before bouncing back to your eyes, "y'wanna know what I think?" he spat right down the valley of your breasts and watched his saliva snake down your shirt, "i think you like it."
you squirmed under his weight, under his eyes. "fuck. you."
"you. wish."
ghost wasn't an idiot. he could feel the way you were rubbing your thighs together, how your pupils were dilating by the second and the soft pants coming out of your mouth.
"I'm saying all this, baby 'cause I know, if I were to fuck you right now, you'd probably be the best pussy I'd felt in years. maybe ever. I'd wanna take you home and do it over and over again until you're gasping for a break. I'd feed you well. id take care of you. I would fucking love you until death. but that's not who I am, and that's sure as fuck not who you are."
you watched his eyes gaze down to your lips as he lowered his head to yours.
"why not?" you whispered.
"because, baby, I don't fuck women who don't want to. I like wet pussy, not scared pussy. I want it hard and rough but I don't wanna break you forever. and unfortunately, I'll bet you a million dollars that if I reached down and checked right now, your sweet pussy wouldn't be wet. not even close. right?"
you gulped as his fingers realized one of your wrists and snaked down the side of your thigh, "that's a lot of money."
he slithered his hand back up to your waist band before sneaking a finger inside, "isn't it?" you could barely hear his smirk through his words over the intense volume of your heartbeat. you knew for a fact, that someone just lost a lot of money.
as ghost swiped a finger down the middle of your panties, he groaned, "fuck, I'm gonna be bankrupt aren't I?"
"its a stupid bet to make after spitting on a woman's tits."
#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#cod smut#modern warfare#ghost smut#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#ghost imagine#ghost mw2#ghost headcanons#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#simon riley headcanons#mother circe? yes mommy#circe69notif⋆♡💌⊹°˖➴
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I forgot YouTube has a recap feature, yippee! I love music :)
#i'm a little confused how Mori still got top artists this year i really didn't think i listened to her that much this year?#her last album was... not for me lets say. i guess i did listen to Unalive a lot. Resting Power is a genuine banger#you know what else is a banger? Lone Alpha's album Virtual Paradise steaming now on all platforms go listen to it it's so good#(shameless plug because i was on top 1% of their listeners and thats a travesty. everyone should listen to them they're incredible)#all my top tracks were songs i got stuck on and listened to for literally hours on loop#I played my number one track 88 times. i like it :)#here's a link because i dunno if it'll come up from the auto translated title -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAmA3w4lVAY#is it the best song in the world? no. it's a pretty typical piece of idol music. but its very dear to me.#i'm not even familiar with the vtuber who sings it. it just tumbled across my recommendations one day and stuck with me#the rest of my top tracks are like genuinely good. those are complete recommendations from me -w-)b#the second one a kinda ancient cover by Rachie. i've been listening to that sing since i was a teenage lol#i've just been feeling it this year i guess. i got stuck on it for a couple weeks and just kept looping back to it#the third one is Thai which was cool. i haven't heard a lot of songs in that language but it's really lovely#actually i'll link that one to 'cause if you're not familiar it might be hard to find -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5S5b1lbWyUU#all the singers on it are great. i really like Schneider's Thai covers of other songs#and like. every single cover i've heard from Dacapo has been PHENOMENAL he's great#the last 2 are Paradox Live songs. I fucking love Amprule. Yeon Dongha number one forever#this is already to long but i wanna talk about Kessoku Band to. I still haven't watched Bochii (<fake anime fan) but the OST is NEXT LEVEL#every single song is just so <3<3 ''If i could be a constellation'' is just THE best. every song on the album is good.#you can ignore the rest of my recommendations but this album is just objectively good.#link -> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_mNWkxcU6VC_aWOFnpqYha-J5UMzwbVlx4#EDIT: i'm coming back to edit this days later because oh. fucking DUH. Sinderella end of last year/start of this year. i fucking forgot.#JIGOKU 6 was not really my favourite. i liked a couple songs but some of the others weren't for me#(which i could say about Sinderlla to i guess but since it's got more songs i feel more positively about as a whole)#anyway. i didn't go that hard on Jigoku and since that the most recent one i was just like hm? what Mori did I listen to?#it was Sinderella from last year. I listened to that one A LOT.#Wanted -Wasted is just so good it carries the whole album for me. it even compensates for Internet Brain Rot lmao#snow blogging#music recs
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haven't watched the last two loki eps. haven't watched the last two ofmd eps. haven't finished the last season of mythic quest. haven't listened to dndaddies in months. haven't listened to dungeons and drimbus in over a year. haven't haven't haven't. hng argh blah and so forth
#i cant fucking finish anything#i just keep looping tawog and community over and over in an endless carousel of soothing familiarity#also ive had two dreams about izzy after i got the spoilers and i am just unsure of being able to stomach the last two eps anyway#hnngfghh. gack. shit. my soul tried to walk thru wet concrete and is comedically yet pathetically stuck in place#i keep thinking about richard but what else is new but also im worried i've juiced him dry#a week ago i was irritated that i couldn't unwind my brain from alastor#and now i can feel my brain going limp and uninvested in anything and it's the opposite hell#my mind is just a pair of slippery puppet paws and i cant hold on to anything#mythtakes#all the 2nd seasons this year have just been 'hey what if we made you Incredibly Emotionally Upset'#'what if we took Everything you were hoping for and made it Sad. Forever.'#and it's like well that sucks and i don't have the bandwidth for fix it fics so i guess the author is no longer dead and i'm Bummed abt it
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I know that I wasn't ready at the time and it's really unhelpful to just dwell on things you did in your past that you can't change, but man it's sometimes hard not to think about how much I regret just not having gone to a four-year university right after high school so I could finally get away from home and my current situation that was and still is making me miserable and then proceeding to fail my community college classes because I was depressed
#hard not to feel like a total fuck-up eh#i guess everything comes full circle#i'm just really tired of it here man#i feel like there's nothing for me here and that i've just kind of been letting myself endure the same shit for years now#like i've lived in the same house since 2012 and the same bedroom since 2014#time for a change#my family's really not great and i guess my mom can be alright but my dad and my brother are just straight-up rotten people...#...and i would just really love to be away from them for good (even though my parents are divorced and i hardly see my dad)#i just really don't have anyone here so of course that's isolating and has made me really yearn for a change#i mean i have a few friends but i don't really fit in with them or see them very much so i don't really get included in anything...#...and then when we do have a plan to do something usually it just ends up not working out because no one's free at the same time#and i know i suck too because a couple times ago i said i couldn't hang out but really i just didn't want to hang out with them#i guess that's not a good sign though because why wouldn't you want to hang out with your friends#plus why is it that every 'friend group' i've had in my life has been exactly like this and full of people who don't care about me lol#on a different note pretty much everyone in my town and even in surrounding towns is or seems stuck-up as hell lol#like we get it your parents are rich great no one cares#i'm normally overly sentimental and nostalgic but if it were possible for me to just leave here right now i would in a heartbeat#i remember when i was a high school senior i got accepted to this school that was across the country and it's like shit...#...maybe i should've just forced myself to get over my fears and gone there#my plan now is to actually complete another year of CC classes (i'm basically just starting over) then transfer to a four-year#but i'm gonna try and not fuck it up this time#i'm seriously still angry at myself for having totally wasted an entire year but can't change that now either#sorry for another stupid teenage angst sounding rant#i like to get things out sometimes even if it just falsely makes me feel like i actually accomplished something#personal#txt#rants#vent post
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part thirty —other parts
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/76e30143784c502b4d02a6b18744f57b/8f06a91ecab3ed5e-52/s540x810/2c3ab7ff82193d2c0751dc20286bafa125709803.jpg)
pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.8k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter is all from Blue's perspective. if anything regarding the abuse or suffering of children triggers you do not read. though it is really not graphic at all (imo) and the SA is EXTREMELY implied and subtle (just a woman looking/potentially touching Blue's private area to check for virginity). I wanted to tell you so there are no surprises.
B
Blue hasn’t been without her father for more than an hour in over five years. There were moments when she'd imagined him disappearing, especially when he said no to her, when he could annoy her, push her too hard, or withhold the words she craved. And yet—now, with her head resting in Twix's lap, she can only long for him. The thought of his absence fills her with cold dread. The kind that erupts goosebumps on her arms despite the stuffy air in the room. Twix’s fingers gently stroke the back of her scalp, but it does little to ground her as her mind drifts to Ghost. He’s alive, that woman said. But it's been over a day, and he still hasn’t come for her.
"Do you think he will come soon?" she asks quietly.
Twix's fingers pause at the top of her hairline. "I think... I think he is doing everything he can to find you."
Blue is old enough to know that is a non-answer.
She knows, deep down, that Twix doesn't think he'll be coming, either.
"I will figure something out, okay?" she promises.
"Okay," Blue whispers noncommittally.
"Hey." A faint smile. "I've done pretty good at getting us out of shit in the past, right?"
Blue mumbles, "I guess so."
But this time felt different from those times. No matter how many times she catches Twix squinting around the room, murmuring things to Nereida, even Blue knows that a bright idea won’t magically appear. Not in here, where there is nothing except the three beds, the bolted cell, and the out-of-reach door that Ghost has yet to barge through.
When Blue's fingers instinctively search for her wrist, Twix’s face softens, and she gently encloses her palm over Blue's knuckles. "Alright. I want you to close your eyes and imagine that beach you showed me once. The one with white sand, and super blue water." Blue plays along with a deep sigh, closing her eyes as she feels a callused thumb brush her cheek. "Almost as blue as your eyes. See it?"
"I guess."
"Good. Now, I want you to imagine that you are lying on the sand, eating all the Twix bars and Nutella you want. Oh, and Grim is there. He was trying to make a sandcastle but got his head stuck in the sand."
Blue's lips twitch despite herself. "This is dumb."
"Dumb? Well, I don't think Grim finds it dumb. He can hardly breathe right now so you better stop eating chocolate and haul his ass up."
Blue snorts quietly, eyes screwing tighter as she imagines it; pulling the bunny out of the sand, giggling, the waves crashing. She falls back onto the sand with him in tow, but he darts away from her hands, toward the water. When she looks over, sun glaring, someone else is there. It's her father, and for a moment she is ready to jump on his back and beg him to play in the waves with her. That's when she notices he is keeled over, ripped apart, bloodied and battered.
Blue jolts, inhaling sharply. When she reopens her eyes, the image is still there.
"What's wrong?"
"I just saw—" she rubs her eyes profusely, but he's right in front of her. Blood begins to spurt from a sever in his throat. His head snaps forward, hanging by a thin thread of tissue. "I see him! H-his head is..."
She jerks upright from Twix's lap, her eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to shake off the vision. When that doesn't help, she buries her face in the pillow, but the image remains too real to ignore. The thread snaps, and her father’s head rolls away silently.
Twix’s voice cuts through, her hands gently shaking Blue’s shoulders, but it feels distant, like a shadow compared to the sickening thud of her father’s headless body hitting the ground. Thick blood pools at her feet, and she tries to move, but her muscles won’t obey. The blood rises and rises, suffocating her, until she can’t breathe.
"Blue, it's just... you're imagining it."
"I can't... I can't..."
Someone flips her over on the bed and hugs her shoulders.
Twix's chapped lips press into her cheek.
"Please, Blue. I'm here."
The touch is enough to drain the blood and free her lungs. Her father's dead body floats away. She gulps for air, cold sweat clinging to her neck, and curls into the body beside her. Lingering panic races through her heartbeat, but then, after a minute, it begins to slow considerably. A new feeling washes over with the force of a tidal wave; fatigue.
Blue suddenly feels so tired that she can't keep her eyes open. It’s as though the terrible images have drained her entirely, leaving only murky water in their place. Her mind begins to float, and the edges of the world blur. Twix's face is in front of her yet feels so far away. Her lips try to part for words to come out, but it takes three tries just to manage: "I feel strange."
Across the cell, Nereida whispers, "I do, too."
Weight shifts on the mattress as Twix tries to sit up, leaning against the wall. Her head dips slightly, then snaps back up. A shaky inhale. "That... that fucking bitch. The oatmeal!"
The oatmeal? Blue’s thoughts latch onto the warm meal they’d been forced to eat, but the memory slips away before she can hold onto it. The slow descent snowballs. Twix’s voice distorts, blending with the chirping of birds outside the window. Her body slides down the wall, crumpling back beside Blue. She tries to hug Twix again, but her arms won’t cooperate.
Minutes later, or maybe hours, Blue hears the metal screech of the cell door swinging open. Veiled ghosts drift in. She can do nothing to run from them. Murmured voices, speaking words she doesn't understand, bleed through the heavy blanket of fog lying over her.
"Vous avez dit que celui-ci était intact?"
"Oui, Maman."
"Nous offrirons son corps pur au Seigneur. Les deux autres seront aptes à avoir des enfants."
"Mais elle est une... Je veux dire, oui, Maman."
She feels something cold and sinuous lifting her—snakes. No, not snakes. Hands. Cold, unfamiliar hands. Twix shouts something slurred. Then Blue is dragged by her feet, her spine no longer supported by the bed. She tries to squirm free, but her limbs feel heavy, useless. More hands clamp down on her arms.
No, no.
She wants to call for Twix, but her voice is muffled beneath a palm, the sound dying in her throat.
A weathered voice coos in her ear. "Sweet child. There is nothing to fear."
She can't scream.
All she knows is Twix is no longer the one beside her.
Cold fear surges through her veins, and she claws at someone’s arm. The retaliation is swift—a prick to her neck.
The strike of pain intensifies her dizziness, the last fight in her body fading away. They're dragging her again. The hard floor beneath her feet melts into soft grass, and the stark white ceiling shifts into a blue, cloudless sky before everything fades to black.
A gentle melody repeats in her subconscious until she rouses.
The same three-note tune, over and over.
Peeling her eyes open against the buttery sunlight, the first thing she notices is an open window above her head, its thin white curtain dancing in the light breeze. Upon the windowsill sits a small, cooing bird with pearly grey feathers and a black ring around its neck. Its head tilts almost mechanically, two little black eyes regarding her. She stares for a long moment before her eyes fall closed once more, lulled by the familiar call. Only when the bird quiets does she truly come to her senses. The sudden silence jolts her upright.
This isn't the same room she was in before. There hadn’t been a window in the cell, and certainly not one left open. The air there had been thick with the scent of old wood and lingering dust. But here... here, the air is different. It smells of fresh flowers, of the tall grass she used to wade through with Ghost while hunting.
The bird calls once more before flittering away, leaving her reeling.
"A collared dove."
Her gaze snaps to the right where an old woman sits in a mahogany chair, knitting needles in hand. Without looking up from the red yarn she weaves, she explains idly, "They are very common. Lovely, but common."
The accent of her old voice is nothing like Blue's Mancunian one. But she understands each word.
Her voice pulls through her teeth with great effort. "I don't... Where am I?"
The old woman's brow furrows as if she is deep in thought, but it smoothes over after she undoes a stitch and loops it again, hands moving with an unnatural slowness. "You had them in England, yes? They are very common there, too."
Blue's fingers spread into the fine linen, her pulse ticking as she blinks a few times to sharpen her vision. The woman before her is older than anyone she has seen in a long time, though there is a faint resemblance to a woman deep in her memory who she believes was her grandmother. Unlike the woman who visited their cell with food, this one does not wear a veil over her face. Long wisps of gray hair fall over her shoulders. Wrinkles etch around her eyes and lips. She is still cloaked in white, but around her neck hangs a red cord beaded with a cross dangling at the end.
Her fingers clench. "I don't care about the-the stupid bird. Why am I here? Where are my friends? You..." she swallows the feel of sandpaper in her mouth, "You put something in the food. You made me lose control of myself again!"
Finally, grey-blue eyes flicker up beneath a questioning brow. "Oh, sweet child. You are so full of fire." With an unsettling calmness, the woman sets down the knitting needles on a carved side table. Pressing a palm to the surface of it, she rises slowly, then laces her hands in front of her. "Come, and perhaps your questions will be answered. Though, I wouldn't try to run." She moves toward the door, her gait shuffled but steady. A glance over her shoulder beckons. "Your friends are under my care."
The mere mention stiffens Blue's spine. She forces herself to her unsteady feet, swaying slightly, bare toes digging into the wood planks. Each small step feels lighter than the first time she woke up from being drugged, though her body still protests. Ahead, the woman is already walking away. It wouldn’t take much to catch up, but Blue lingers, her eyes sweeping the room with deliberate caution—always stay aware of your surroundings.
For a moment, she considers grabbing the knitting needle and stabbing the woman. But then what? Everyone, her father included, is under her care, and any misstep could mean their deaths. Ghost always told her to never act without some type of plan—to wait for the right moment. Blue doesn’t even know where the others are.
As she hesitantly steps out of the small house, the realization hits her. There are more people here than she’s seen in a long time. Almost like a town, but not really. Smaller than that, but more than her group. The building they just left is a small, home made of light grey stone. To her right are more homes, smoke billowing from the chimneys. She counts at least four of them. Straight ahead of her is gravel road. This is where the woman heads, with Blue trailing behind her. To the left is a stretch of green lawn, bright and lush. She has the itch to sprint over it, but a voice ends that idea.
"Catch up, girl."
Gravel bites her toes as she walks to the woman's side. She is still only dressed in the simple, white slip. She hasn't worn a dress before.
"Where are you taking me?"
"There are some things I wish you to see."
"Why... why can't the friends I was with be here to see them, too?"
From the corner of her eyes, Blue catches the woman smile lightly. "What do you think of France?"
Blue digs her nails into her palms, swallowing down her frustration at the non-answer. "It's... nice, I guess." It isn't a lie. The beautiful beach they left from, the fields of wheat and flowers, were things she'd only imagined before.
"Good. My husband was from India but owned this land. I never wanted to leave it. France is the most beautiful place. I knew I wanted my son to grow here." She exhales in a quiet appreciation. "My husband said this land would thrive, even after the plague. He was right. The Lord spared it. He did not spare Ashwin, though."
Blue doesn't know what to say to that. If she should feel sorry for this person or not. She didn't state her husband's death in a sorrowful way, merely factual. As they walk, they pass a few men hunched over tree stumps, chopping wood. The smell of fresh earth and spilt sap wafts up her nose. The men glance up, their gazes lingering on Blue a moment too long, making her shift uncomfortably. Then, they lower their heads respectfully toward the woman. She speaks to them in French, and their chuckles follow her words.
Under a warm afternoon, they approach what looks like a large barn, bordered by wooden fence posts strung with taut wires. Inside the fenced area, Blue notices a white horse, smaller than Cherry, along with four cows. More men are working nearby, some tending to the animals while others, farther off, wield sickles to harvest stalks of wheat.
When they stop in front of the fence, Blue can't stop herself from asking, "Where are all the girls at? Like the one who fed us? I've only seen guys so far."
The woman doesn't look at her. "Our community is built around the roles God intended for us. Men have bodies made for working under the sun. Women, like those beautiful young ladies you traveled with, are vessels to be cherished, protected. Especially in these times when they have become rather scarce."
A few of the words fail to make sense to Blue, never having learned them from any of the books Ghost read her. "Um, is that why you separated the girls in my group from the men?"
She hums, a slow sound. "Women are kept in their own quarters with the infants."
"Okay," Blue rocks on her feet and grips the hem of the dress before the light air can catch it. So is her dad one of those men working, then? She squints, confused, and shakes her head. No; if he was anywhere out here, he would've come to her. He must be locked up, too. A wave of anger buzzes in her chest, louder than the cicadas. "That still doesn't explain why you are holding Twix and Nereida prisoner. If women are so special, why are they locked up and I am out here? And where are all the men from my group?" Her mind briefly flashes to the others; Kyle, Price, and... Ari.
"None of them are prisoners, child. They are merely being readied for the role their bodies were created for, by God."
Blue grits her teeth. "You're not really answering my questions. What about me? Why did you bring me to," she glances back at the working men, who haven't stopped to look at her like the others had, too engrossed in the strenuous labor. "A fucking farm. What could you possibly want to show me here?"
"There is someone I need here before our next stop." She leans closer to the barbed fence and calls out, "Pierre! J'ai besoin de toi et de trois hommes pour nous accompagner jusqu'à la cale. Apporte les chaînes."
A man—Pierre, she guesses—strikes one of the cattle's hindquarters, wipes sweat from the back of his neck, then shouts in French to three others following behind him. They unlatch a gate in the fence and slip inside a small shed for a brief moment, emerging with rusted chains in hand. They approach, causing Blue to falter and step back. An old, strange woman is one thing, but three strong men are another. A fissure of terror cracks through her, and she inhales shakily.
"You need not be afraid."
She blinks up at the woman, who for a moment, conjures something similar to a comforting expression. Blue nods, and then they are walking again, with the four men trailing behind them. The sound of the chains dangling in their grasp makes her feel uneasy. What are they for, and why are they coming with them? She is ready to build the bravery to ask when the woman ghosts a hand on her shoulder.
"What is your name, child?"
"It's... um, Blue."
A soft chuckle. "The English and their strangeness. This is not your real name, is it?"
For some reason, Blue finds the truth stuttering out of her. "No, it's—the name I was born with is Amelia."
"Amelia. Much better. Tell me, Amelia, did your mother have blue eyes?"
Blue nearly chokes, her footsteps halting in the grass as she flinches away from her hand, curling her fingers into fists. "What the fu—why are you asking me that?"
The woman stops beside her and clasps her hands together, the long sleeves of her gown falling over them. She is a small woman, hardly taller than Blue, and can't be any stronger than she is, but something about her emits control. Blue can't look away from her eyes, even as her jaw tightens, stomach swirling.
"There are many answers to questions that can be discovered on their own if one simply looks for them. I know which one of them is your father—"
"How could you know?" Blue demands. "I haven't even said any of them was my dad."
Thin lips twitch at the side. "A daughter gets the shape of her face from her father." A bony finger reaches to trail the edge of Blue's cheek, and she trembles from the cold feel of it. "But the features are all from her mother." She looks away and continues walking, speaking over her shoulder, "A little dove might have also told me he was asking for you."
When the men step forward, Blue is forced to continue walking. It feels hard to breathe, even though the canopy of trees offer fresh, rich air. "Then why are you asking about my mother?"
"Your eyes are blue, but your father's are not. I was simply curious."
"My mother is dead," Blue finds herself gritting out.
"I figured. Neither of those women were her, and many mothers have been lost. A very terrible thing. A child needs its mother. You will call me Maman, Amelia. This is what French children call their mothers."
"I am not going to fucking call you that. Tell me where we are going," Blue presses, swallowing as she looks back at the farm behind them. Through the gaps between the men's shoulders, she sees that it is rather distant now, along with the small homes. She looks back ahead; nothing but overgrown vegetation. Even the flowers have grown sparse over here. It is quiet and still. She can hear the thrum of her own heart.
"Your fire is admirable, but you need to learn respect." For the first time, Maman's voice carries an edge, one that sends a shiver down Blue's spine. A foreign bird call echoes through the leaves, and the woman holds up a hand, signaling for everyone to stop and listen. "Ah. That’s the Bluethroat, if I’m not mistaken. Much rarer than the dove. You won't often find those in England."
The bird calls again—a trilled chirp—as they crest over a small hill, and the air suddenly grows heavier, more pungent. A smell Blue knows well makes her freeze, but a strong grip on her arm keeps her moving toward the source of the stench: an old, smaller building made of much darker stone. The sharp rustle of wings through the trees fades into the distance, but the tension in her body doesn’t ease.
"You, too, are rare, Amelia," Maman continues, voice steady and unhurried. "A pure, young female like you—so virtuous—carries more favor from God than any other. Your friends have their purpose, and you have yours. Each of us plays a part in shaping the new vision of God's children."
The men move in front of them now, except for one who continues gripping Blue. The tremble in her body intensifies, and a cold pit grows unbearable in her chest, thundering. She is forced to stand about four meters in front of the large door, where one man grips the handle while two others, including Pierre, stand beside it, their hands ready with chains and their stances wide. It’s now, through the stinging film that grows over her eyes, that Blue notices large metal muzzles attached to the chains.
Blue is too stunned—too confused, yet frightfully aware—to move a muscle when Maman procures a knife from inside her robe. Pierre shouts something in French, but Blue can barely hear him. Her senses are fixed on the bead of sunlight glinting off the knife, and on the scratching and snarling she hears from the other side of the door.
"Please—" she gasps, unable to finish the thought.
Maman ignores her in favor of snatching hold of her wrist. Cold fingers force her arm to extend, and a burning pain cries out when the knife slashes a laceration from her elbow to the rim of her palm.
"Une seule coupure pour les attirer."
The blood weeps, and the door shakes from the ignited frenzy behind it.
Tears finally escape Blue’s eyes just before the door opens. She feels it—the sensation of her body being torn apart beneath rotten teeth. She squeezes her eyes shut, thinking of Ghost, when she hears more shouting and the harsh sound of chains being whipped through the air. When she opens her eyes again, the men are wrestling two Greys into the muzzles.
"Deux c'est bien!" Maman orders, and the door is slammed shut over the others that threaten to spill out toward the fresh wound.
Blue is alive.
Her arm numb and bleeding.
Maman yanks something else from her robe—a strip of cloth. She wraps it roughly around Blue's forearm, then issues another command. Without warning, Blue is hoisted from the ground and callously tossed over the shoulder of the man who had held her in place. They start heading back the way they came, the leashed Greys trailing behind them, and finally, a scream rips from Blue’s throat.
"You said this one was intact?" "Yes, Maman." "We will offer her pure body to the Lord. The other two will be fit to have children." "But she is a… I mean, yes, Maman." "Pierre! I need you and three men to accompany us to the hold. Bring the chains." "One cut to attract them.” “Two is good!”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost#simon ghost riley#zombie apocolypse au#cod
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room.
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off.
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not.
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night.
That is, until you opened the door.
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said.
“Sure looks that way.”
"At least it's a queen?"
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time.
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began.
"I mean, I guess I don't really–"
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–"
"–mind as long as you–"
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement.
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be.
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window.
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.”
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.”
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team.
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it.
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep.
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still.
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke.
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind.
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers.
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right.
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that.
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again.
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you.
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together.
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell.
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal.
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot.
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation.
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.”
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him.
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“Sorry,” you managed.
“For what?”
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.”
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.”
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further.
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.”
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!”
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.”
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.”
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.”
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him.
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat.
“You just said ass.”
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.”
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.”
“I knew you’d agree.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed.
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting.
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed.
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep.
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself.
Eventually, exhaustion won out.
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what?
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black.
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?!
“Hey, you okay?”
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.”
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well.
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.”
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand.
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated.
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way.
“You were on my pillow, by the way.”
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him.
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.”
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again.
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.”
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back.
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest.
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious.
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing.
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?”
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.”
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer.
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.”
“Don’t profile me.”
“I’m not. I just know you.”
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.”
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.”
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.”
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.”
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip.
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.”
“I told you to stop profiling me.”
This time, he just hummed in response.
“And so what if I stuttered?”
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.”
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list.
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–”
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed.
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.”
“That all makes total sense.”
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved.
“Now tell me the rest of it.”
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well.
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and–
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream.
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent.
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing.
“Yes.”
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word.
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it.
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry.
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–”
“It is.”
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.”
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.”
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back.
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you.
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked.
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.”
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.”
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed.
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.”
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?”
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.”
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.”
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.”
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.”
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you.
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed.
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside.
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again.
“Okay, was it just me, or–”
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed.
“Spence?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?”
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?”
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless.
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.”
“Well, you kissed me.”
“I did.”
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed.
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.”
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.”
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.”
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.”
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist.
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it.
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.”
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.”
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer.
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages.
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.”
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.”
“You’re such an ass.”
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up.
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you.
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker.
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left.
You text back: okay?
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night.
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face.
You: what did u say?
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first.
You: i think u should say yes, obviously.
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded.
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success.
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you.
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;)
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh.
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask.
Shit.
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat.
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you?
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate??
Spencer: Yes
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace.
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn.
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth.
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed.
#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it#spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#my fics
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r/UberEATS 014 are u a coward
r/UberEATS posted by
u/finickydriver141・14 hr. ago
my customer's little brother broke her heart and i don't know how to fix it
hi. this probably isn't the right subreddit to post on but i'm an uber eats driver if that helps...
so anyways, i've been delivering to this customer for a while now, and we've gotten really close, almost like a talking stage? idk. well, last night, she told me about this huge argument her and her brother had, and i wanna help fix things because i kinda like her. a lot.
tl;dr: her little brother lied to her two years ago and ruined her friendship with her best friend. now she's upset because she found out the truth and feels like she let him down, but imo, i think the kid is just being a brat lol. i wanna step in and make things better for her, let her know that she shouldn't feel guilty, but i don't really know how to go about it.
for context, her brother (let's call him A) basically told her that her best friend (we'll call him B) stole all his bread back when B was babysitting him. she got super upset and immediately cut B off because she loves her brother more than anything and thought B broke their trust. fast forward to now, A admitted that he lied about the whole thing because he felt like he was too mature for a babysitter (which is true to a certain extent... I GUESS...) now she feels guilty for not realizing that A hated having her take care of him like that, and she's convinced that he hates her.
here's the thing though, if A feels like he's so mature and independent, why did he feel the need to lie and cause this mess? i get that he did what he did to prove he was mature enough to take care of himself but lying to your sister and ruining her relationship with her best friend is kind of the opposite of maturity, right?
anyways, what should i do to help her? i tried asking B for A's number so i could talk to him, but B refused so now i'm stuck.
should i go over to her house when she's not around and beat him up or like... take his bread? or should i just let it go and focus on comforting her? it breaks my heart to see her sad :/
⬆️ 8 ⬇️ 💬 79
u/rainsinheaven・14 hr. ago
this seems so familiar
u/back2u・13 hr. ago
right?! omg i think this is the same uber eats driver from that love confession post
u/purplecarrot・13 hr. ago
sounds like a bunch of miscommunication and overdramatics to me
u/jjanguu・11 hr. ago
i vote to beat him up
u/mrkrabs_58・11 hr. ago
This is not related to Uber Eats
u/finickydriver141・10 hr. ago
im an uber eats driver so it IS related GTFO MRKRABS58
u/cooingpenguin・9 hr. ago
i think op is in love with the girl lmao
u/yuwushi・3 hr. ago
hi. dm me. i'm A's friend.
u/finickydriver141・2 hr. ago
prove it
u/yuwushi・20 min. ago
i can't prove it without doxxing them... just dm me bro are u a coward. what's wrong with you.
u/finickydriver141・18 min. ago
WHO THE FUCK ARE U CALLING A COWARD
u/lovable_star・2 hr. ago
convince B to give u A's number again!!! if ure preaching about maturity then communication is the best way around this whole situation
previous / masterlist / next
notes DID EVERYONE ENJOY SMTOWNNN i know i did (save me dreamies love me right cover. save me) also can u guys tell this smau is lowkey coming to an end soon (っ◞‸◟ c)
taglist @ddolbyong @nmbr1stickerenjoyer @wonpoem @jeonghansshitester @kukkurookkoo @dudekiss3r @https-yeonjun @nahyuckers @slayhaechan @luvvhaechan @chenlezip @ryuvrsie @aerivrs @snoopyjimin @yukisroom97 @snowyseungs @thegracerammy @purezitas @sundamariis @nctrawberries @sehunniepot @holyhaech @belleilichil @cyjzzl @haechology @ant-onie @n0hyuck @axo-l0tl @goquokka @jich3nle @gela0205 @irlrenjun @leevipipi @kodasity @taroddori @hyuckies18 @hibernatinghamster @renjunniex @haechyuckan @i-lovegood @chan-yeoldelling @lampcults @jae-n0 @jeongintwt @sunghoonsgfreal @injvns @sewergirlfriend @fluermeijisblog @pinklemonade34 @t-102
#nct smau#haechan#lee haechan#nct haechan#lee donghyuck#nct donghyuck#nct dream donghyuck#nct dream haechan#haechan smau#haechan social media au#haechan fake texts#haechan x reader#haechan fluff#donghyuck x reader#nct dream#nct#nct fluff#nct 127#nct 127 haechan#nct fake texts#nct social media au#nct 127 fake texts#nct dream fake texts#nct dream smau#nct dream x reader#nct 127 smau
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I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Part 3): Grinning Like I’m Winning
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fcc3644538f69453490e6024b5fcc076/ee6ca0abf10b7a70-3e/s540x810/709be062c894a887664460c410da141d30b007b5.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9283616706d4da7bdca234ba61120a48/ee6ca0abf10b7a70-89/s540x810/15ccd35d9732d23582970bc15057daabba3ebe88.jpg)
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Paige Bueckers x reader
The aftermath of a drunken confession.
Word Count: 2k
Themes: more angst, fluff and a happy ending :))
Masterlist
Part 1 - KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.
Part 2 - You go out on a date. Paige gets drunk. Chaos ensues.
A/N: helloooo thanks to everyone who has stuck with me I know it's been awhile since part 2 (i've had terrible writers block) I really hope you enjoy this! I've got a lot of exciting plans for the next few weeks as well
~
You had barely slept. With Paige’s confession ringing hauntingly in your ears, sleep had evaded you, and you were slowly losing your mind.
Your thoughts were swirled with anxiety and a creeping giddiness that threatened to bubble up and ruin the strict boundaries you had placed on your psyche to prevent ruining your cherished friendship with Paige. Her actions hinted towards perhaps a mutual feeling, but the devastating thought that it was just the alcohol teasing you, made your heart drop to your ass.
You and Paige had previously had several run-ins with close calls with drunken confessions and touches and glances that had felt a little less than friendly. But you had both brushed them off, thinking it was easier to internalize the confusing feelings than dealing with them head on.
Your thoughts drift back to the way she held onto you last night, as if she was terrified of losing you, and you cannot forget the way she launched into you when you came to pick her up from the bar, whispering into your neck about how she missed and needed you.
Was it friendly? Maybe, but the hopefulness in you made you think it was laced with something more. And you were going to ride that high until reality came to slam you back to the crushing realization that you and Paige were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
Paige shifts beside you, moving closer into the warmth emitting from your body, and a quiet hum of content leaves her throat. You run a hand through her soft hair, gently scratching her scalp, pulling her out of her slumbers. She opens the eye that wasn’t smushed against her pillow, blinking a few times as her brain registers your presence.
“Hey,” she whispers, her voice huskier than normal, and your belly flips at the sound. Her morning voice was a personal weakness of yours, and not being able to hear it the last week had affected you more than you liked to admit.
“Mornin’, P. How’re you feeling?” You ask, eyes raking over her face, trying to avoid looking at her lips, as she slowly licked them.
Paige groans, rubbing her eyes. “I drank way too much last night,” she mumbles.
You agree with her, nodding your head as a chuckle threatened to escape. “You usually can hold your alcohol better than that. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, jostling you as she does so, a gentle reminder of how close she was to you. “How was your date?” she asks, effectively changing the subject.
Your heart falls again as you recall the disastrous end to your date with Scarlett, and you sigh. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear?”
Paige shoots you a questioning look, shaking her head adorably, eyes still clouded with sleep and her hangover.
You clear your throat. “She basically just wanted to go out with me to get closer to you,” you trail off, the embarrassment washing over you once more. “So I walked out on her.”
“Fuck, baby,” she breaths, a look of pity enveloping her features. “You deserve so much better than that.”
“It’s fine,” you mumble. “I think I’m just going to be on my own for a while, ya know? I’ve had so many bad dates this past year, and it’s getting discouraging.”
“You never know, though. The right girl, o-or person might be closer than you think,” she says, stuttering over her words.
“Maybe. Just tired of people fucking me over,” you say, hoping she doesnt hear the audible crack in your voice. But it’s Paige, and because you’re you, she doesn't miss it, and her face morphs into one of sadness and regret. It haunts you, and all the aching in your chest slams back into you at an alarming force, crushing you.
A few moments of silence pass, and after you had shoved your face back into your pillow to hide from the cruel reality of your ridiculously embarrassing dating life, Paige speaks. Her voice is quiet, an echo that subsequently shatters any last attempts to hold on to the friendly confines of your relationship.
“I’d never fuck you over.”
Peeking back up at her, your face softens at her admission. “I know, P. That’s why I love you, ya know,” you respond, and her face flushes.
Neither of you were awake enough to scrutinize over the verbiage, but in both of your hearts, you knew it was more than a friendly kind of love. It was enough for now. But not for long, as you would both come to realize.
~
“I really thought she liked me. And i just want someone who actually gives a fuck about me, ya know? Like my standards are literally on the floor at this point, and I’m still alone,” you mumble, a pout on your lips as you recount your latest failure of a date with Scarlett to Azzi and Jana. You’re squished between them on the couch in Paige’s apartment, and the blonde could not keep her eyes off of you.
Her gaze was hot, and you could feel it follow you from the second you walked through the door with a sour expression covering your face, bitter that you could not have Paige.
Her words were still on a constant loop in your mind, incessantly mocking you over the fact that you were still just friends, and you were too much of a coward to risk ruining things with her. So you resorted to bitching to the other girls, appreciating that your distaste for dark haired girls who fawned over Paige Bueckers was the perfect distraction.
Across the room, Paige listened to your diatribe, trying to pump herself up to just admit her feelings to you now that she was sober. The other girls were simultaneously shooting her looks of pity and encouragement, aware of her feelings. It was easy to notice how Paige had gotten absolutely wasted in your absence, and it was well known that her drunken ramblings of how pretty you were and how she fucking loved the way your hair flowed over your shoulders were not just from the effects of the alcohol. It was something more.
It would always be something more.
“Lots of people give a fuck about you,” Azzi says soothingly, patting you on the shoulder. “Someone might be closer than you think,” she adds, and you don't miss the gleam in her eye.
“Yeah, yeah,” you wave her off with a lighthearted eye roll. “That’s what Paige said.”
Paige nearly jumps at the sound of her name, and Jana covers her mouth to muffle a laugh.
You look over at Jana. “What is so funny?”
She clears her throat, trying to play it off. “Nothing!”
You squint at her, trying to figure out her angle. The girls were acting so weird tonight. You were naturally perceptive, and you definitely weren’t an idiot; you could see the shooting looks sent between you and Paige from the other girls. And you could actually see the wheels turning in KK’s head as she exclaimed “I’m bored. Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”
Your heart begins to race as your nervous system goes into overdrive. You would not put it past KK, or any of the other girls, to try and reveal your feelings to Paige for a laugh.
The thought of unreciprocated feelings was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and hide forever, and despite Paige’s drunken admission still ringing in your ears, you had not let yourself believe that there was any truth to it. Because believing that she actually loved you was almost too much.
KK claps her hands, gathering everyone into a large circle on the carpeted floor, pulling you from your worries. You sigh, getting up from your spot on the couch and plopping down next to Ice and Aubrey. Paige was sitting directly across from you, and for what feels like the tenth time since you had walked through the door, Paige was staring at you with those goddamn blue eyes and an expression that was hard for even you to read.
Fuck, this was not going to be pretty.
The game started out innocent enough. Aubrey had started, asking everyone to take a drink if they had participated in underage drinking, eliciting laughs from the younger girls who were in fact currently underage.
Next to Aubrey was Jana, who asked the group who had ghosted someone before. You once again sipped your drink, as did everyone else. The pounding in your heart lessened, hopeful that no one was planning on being too messy tonight.
The game continues for a few minutes with no issues. The drinks are quickly drained as more and more questions are asked. Soon enough, it’s KK’s turn and the sly grin on her face makes you instantly nervous again. KK was the one constantly encouraging you to admit your feelings to Paige, and you knew she would not hesitate to put it all on the line if she thought it was the right thing to do.
She rubs her hands together mischievously. “Okay, y’all. Take a drink if you’ve ever had feelings for a friend.”
‘Fuck me,” you think, a flush covering your face. You duck your head, trying to subtly take a drink. Across the circle, Paige drinks, too, and KK hoots loudly.
“Shut up,” Paige mumbles, flipping off the younger girl, and you nod in approval.
It was now Ice’s turn, and she looks over at KK with a similar grin. “Take a drink if the friend you have feelings for name starts with the letter P,” she smirks.
Your head spins, and you feel all the blood drain from your face. Everyone was looking at you now, including Paige. Your hand shakes as you bring your cup to your mouth, taking a tentative sip, desperately trying to avoid the stares of all the girls, who were now stifling their laughs.
“Fuck off,” you whine. “I don't wanna play this game anymore.”
“Take another drink if you’re in love with Paige Bueckers,” KK says with a dramatic wink in your direction, and you give her a death stare.
You ultimately had two choices: deny the fuck out of it or grow a pair and admit your feelings. And in an insane display of bravery, you take one more drink, eyes boring into hers.
The room erupts into cheers and gasps of shock, and you hear multiple mumbles of “finally” as you do so.
“Get your cute butt over her,” Paige says, patting her thigh with a fond look, and you stand up without even thinking, nearly rushing over to finally be close to her. The great war between your head and your heart was over, and she was yours. There was absolutely no denying that.
She pulls you into her lap, and you lean into her touch, just as you wanted to when she was drunk off her ass. “I told you last night that I loved you,” she said teasingly, and the girls erupt in loud gasps again.
“WHAT?” they yell, causing you to wince at the volume.
“I thought you were just drunk,” you say shrugging, a small smile on your lips. “How was I supposed to know you actually meant it?”
“I straddled you, baby,” she stresses, grinning, running her hands across your hips.
“Well, you know now,” you respond.
And she did. And soon the whole world would, too, because there was just no hiding those heart eyes with Paige. All thoughts of your shitty love life evaporated in that moment. Gross frat boys and gold-digging dark haired girls were quickly erased from your memory, and they were replaced with the pretty blue eyes of your best friend who loved you.
You could do it with a broken heart, but now your once cold and desolate heart was full. And that was all because of Paige.
~
@patscorner @lovesickramblingsofmine @jaeyoonstie @obi35
that was fun! thank you so much for reading!! let me know what you think :)
xoxo katy
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers x you#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#friends to lovers#fluff
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back to the old house the smiths
right person wrong time
winter evenings aesthetic
i really love your work thank you so much💖
DPxDC At the End & In the Beginning
All it takes is one little misstep.
He slips on the layers and layers of ice and snow covering the once concrete floor, tries to catch himself on the wall out of sheer reflex, and something silvery, metallic, and clanky goes clattering down. Dick doesn't even have time to feel his heart sinking as the object hits the icy floors, bounces, hits a table leg with a loud bang - metal to ice, it echoes through the abandoned, frozen and forgotten lab - and-
There's a beep, a hiss of pressurized air being released, and then, whatever it is that Dick dropped lights up and shoots a white, blinding beam out of itself.
Dick covers his eyes from the flash, since even the lenses of his mask are not able to dim it in the slightest.
Yet, he puts his hand down almost immediately when he hears the most unexpected, absolutely impossible sound.
A cough.
There's a man kneeling in front of him. A rather fit man, actually, despite the fact that Dick only sees his back and it's mostly covered with a black cape; he's got broad shoulders and, wow, those biceps are thicker than Dick's thigh. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but they are big.
He is probably focusing on the wrong thing there because the man's hair is white, just as the snow around them, and floating like a flame. Which is arguably a more important detail than, well, biceps.
"Fucking kid," the man growls under his breath.
Now, Dick is a vigilante. It's pretty much in his job description to get stuck in an all-around confusing clusterfuck situation at least once a month. And yet, watching a buff man with flaming hair and some kind of beef with some unknown kid come out of... a thermos, okay, not the weirdest thing to store a man in, still takes its honorable place among the top ten confusing situations in his life. Not to mention that-
He must have made some sort of a sound, because the man turns around suddenly, his glowing red eyes locking with Dick's.
There's a long moment where neither of them says a word, both too stunned to react. Then, the man blinks.
"Huh," he says very eloquently, "At least he's had a few years, I guess."
Dick blinks, too, snapping himself out of a stupor. "What?" He asks, not sure where to start, and the man snorts.
"I mean, when I was imprisoned - according to this timeline, at least - you were still Robin. If you're Nightwing now, that means it's been a few years, at the least. Is your brother still dead?" He asks conversationally, rising from his kneeling position. Only he doesn't stand, he floats a few inches above the floor, and Dick might have suspected him to be Martian if not for the very wrong green hue of his skin and obviously more human-like, albeit a bit feral, features.
"What?" Dick asks again because he still understands absolutely nothing. The man gives him a weary, exasperated sigh.
"You know what, nevermind. Not like I care," he brushes his previous words off, "Where are we, anyway?"
Oh, that Dick can answer. He's almost glad for understanding at least something from all the stuff that comes out of the man's mouth.
"Amity Park," he says, "I don't know any street names here, but I've been trying to get to the starting point of this eternal winter apocalypse, so-"
"Stop right there," the man raises a hand in the air, frowning, and his face looks a tad bit lost, but mostly just sharp, eyes dangerously narrowed, "Winter apocalypse?"
Dick debates if he should be answering that at all, given the circumstances and the unknown origins of the entity. But, on the other hand, there's literally no way anything could get worse than it is.
"Yeah. We've got another ice age on our hands, and it looks like it started here. Like, right here," he gestures around himself, to the missing roof that looks like it was blown away, to the abandoned and frozen over lab equipment, and the layers and layers of snow and ice.
The man looks around as well, and Dick might be imagining it, but there's a flicker or recognition in his eyes as he takes in everything around him. Dick, however, decides it's his turn to ask questions now, "Who are you?"
"Name's Dan," the man introduces absently, not looking at Dick, and then his lips twist into a bitter smile, "I am the cause of the apocalypse." There's a pause where Dick feels his stomach abruptly sinking, and then the man adds, "Ah, not this apocalypse. A different one."
"Err, I feel like one apocalypse is enough. No, actually, one apocalypse is too many apocalypses. Please don't make more," Dick can't help but deadpan, and Dan barks a laugh.
"I've already made one. Not here, in a different timeline," he glances at Dick, "You've managed to stay alive till the very end in that one, too, actually. I guess your family is just very well adjusted for world ending events."
Different timelines are not an unfamiliar concept, and weirder shit has happened in his life, so Dick decides to believe it. However, that comes with a consequence of a dawning understanding: he is standing here, chit-chatting with someone who's caused an apocalypse. And he, albeit unintentionally, freed him.
"Relax, blue pants, world domination is not exactly interesting when there's nothing to dominate," Dan huffs a laugh, evidently noticing Dick tensing up, "Besides, it looks like no matter what my alternative self did, the result was all the same. We just had different approaches."
"What?" This is the third time Dick is asking this. He feels very stupid, yes, but he can't bring himself to ask more detailed questions. There's just too many confusing points.
Dan raises his head up, looking to the dark skies above them.
"If you say the eternal winter started here, then I believe I know what caused it," he says in a detached, emotionless voice.
Dick can't help but feel a spark of hope in his chest, "Really?!"
"Yes," Dan doesn't look at him, his flaming hair dimming slightly, "A destruction of a particularly powerful Ice Core would definitely achieve this effect." He pauses, and Dick knows he should ask for more context because he still understands nothing, but something in the man's posture, in his tight expression and firm line of his lips stops the words from coming.
So, instead, he asks, "How do you fix it?"
Dan's eyes finally snap back at him, and his eyes are red like blood and so, so tired.
"You can't fix death, Richard Grayson. It's too late."
~•~•~•~
I sure took my time with this one, I'm sorry.
I didn't get to explaining much in text - and I'm much too lazy to turn this into an actual fic even if it has the potential to be one - so, long story short, the Bad Fenton Parents Ending happened, only no one came to rescue. Danny spent too much time down in the lab, strapped to the table and cut open, but no one came. In the end, either Fentons have done something to his core, or he couldn't handle it anymore and self-destructed/destabilized from all the suffering. His core exploded, causing the winter apocalypse that quickly spread. Months/years later, what remained of the heroes have located the original source of where it all started from, and Nightwing went to investigate, looking for any kinds of clues to reverse the ice age.
Honestly, I kind of played with both the trope and the aesthetic here - I mean, it's definitely 'right person wrong time' when you think about it, Nightwing did find Daniel Fenton in the lab, but it was much too late, and it's definitely a 'winter evening' but probably not the one you expected.
At least I got the song alright? Actually, no, I twisted the whole meaning of it as well. Anyway, I like what it turned into, even if it's surprisingly depressing.
I'm adding a little aesthetic that I used for this piece:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/85d612c0dcc254d9402259c642b80f9c/eb6cdac990695c62-26/s540x810/b03b8b7d7b2af129a71236aba642c472e738db0f.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c485461db227ba7307bb7dad54eaef4b/eb6cdac990695c62-46/s540x810/5d146bc006c83bde6807e3bf6e631998ed98b731.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3b483fd1b06f8c7eeddc46124fd8a2b5/eb6cdac990695c62-8b/s540x810/76073f20b4600a09a55a2325741a89ad2af78ebe.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5b95826978b8820b89ce74f8a12d7051/eb6cdac990695c62-82/s540x810/af3be1789d6605d040006d3030f9d156cae7afd3.jpg)
Hope you like it!
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#dick grayson#nightwing#dan phantom#dark humour#i mean the ship#at least i intended it as one#cork game#apocalypse#right person wrong time#angst#i mean kinda#i guess
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gonna keep it shmoovin man
#just me hi#i have a piece i was working on last night that i realized after i didn't have my computer could actually be Much more accurate to my ideaa#but that means i gotta scrap some stuff. sigh ᴗ.ᴗ#also i couldn't get around to readin my thing yesterday cuz my focus was shot for some reason lmao <//3#i would open the thing and then just start. driiiifting away kfshvg#//anyway idk what happened but why have i started to miss Gs at the end of my words Lmfhvaf#i already do that in real life we don't needa do that here too kfshvh#'asz wu' 'm sayin man !!' <- my engrish :3#i do like it though i think it's fun :> but my typingggg not you too kfsvhg#//anywho i've got a $1.75 thing i'm workin on :D#it's gonna hopefully be the third part to those last two i did for that thing#which goes adoration -> devotion -> guess hfh :3#i'm normal abt these guys. [places them in a lunchbox and throws it into the river to watch the bubbles] yea :)#//anyway Wednesday#not the best of the week days i will not lie#like you're stuck between the beginning and the end and it's just got that undecided feeling to it ykno what i mean pfshv#//also LMAO i've been calling feet/foot 'peets/poot' bc i think it's goofy and i don't like the F sound#and i got leo into saying it and he was talkin to somebody and had to explain what it was Lmfhjshfg#my infec- influence is spreading. influence. that's what i said#my woerds: peet. poot. tomach. shnoze. ham. heed. fingaa. ect ect#//ouhhh my collarbone keeps making these snappy noises when i pull my shoulders back#it's only occasional but holy shizz it's loud sometimes. like 'when we're in church i think you can hear it 4 pews back' loud khgsfjhfvjg#//ANYWAY i was mentioning wednesday earlier cuz it's not the best of days on the week (we know this) but i wanna go skating </3#'why isn't wednesday good for that' because it's the middle of the week. [gesturing]#i can't explain it but things need to happen on- Oo i like this songgggkkggg- either weekends or the other 4 days of the weekday#wednesday is for appointments you really don't want. i'm sorry but it's a filler day <//3#which means no happenings on a wednesday. it's illegal. that's right. Illegal#even thursday is iffy man. tuesday? tuesday is your last-chance stop. perhaps i do have thoughts about silly things Kfhvsjhgsf#nobody tell leo he's tryna get me for having a weird brain. the sentence is 5000 years of i-told-you 😔 Lmaooo#//OKAY i think i'm outta tags tho lemme say ciao here loll :3 toodles tooooodles !!! <3
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Oops
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: It was an accident
"Sorry," Jessie says again," I mean it. I really am."
"I know, Jess."
"I didn't mean for it to happen, honestly!"
"I know, Jess."
"I don't deserve forgiveness."
"It's not that bad, Jess. Barely even an injury."
Jessie looks at you incredulously, brows raised to her hairline.
You're sitting in a hospital bed. Your face is covered in scratches and bruises and your arm is firmly stuck in a cast. Your shirt is torn up from your tumble, ripped in random places and you're pretty sure your legs were only spared because you were wearing your heavy-duty jeans.
Jessie was new on the team but not new to you.
You'd transferred from your childhood team Manchester City just last year to the Portland Thorns for more game time. Jessie had been your long-term girlfriend for a while back then and when she'd moved to the Thorns a few months ago, you'd been ecstatic.
You just wish you'd had the hindsight to tell her to stay away from your skateboards.
"I feel awful," Jessie continues," Does it hurt bad? Do you need the doctor again?"
"Jessie," You say," They're just getting the discharge paperwork. Please don't make them keep me here longer than needed."
Jessie bites her lip, like she always does when she's feeling nervous.
It had been an accident on her part.
You had been out with Jessie on a date with your skateboard and was standing on it at the top of a set of steps, contemplating going down the railings.
Only Jessie had been bumped into by someone in the crowd and had then bumped into you, sending you careening down the stairs.
"I guess I'm stuck in the stands for a bit," You joke, laughing slightly before stopping when you see her face.
Jessie looks distraught over the whole thing, halfway to tears at your bedside.
"Jessie, babe," You say," Come here."
You pat the portion of bed beside you and Jessie shakes her head.
"No," She says," No, I hurt you."
"It was an accident. it wasn't even your fault. You got barged into first."
"But you get hurt. I broke your arm."
"Technically, the stairs broke my arm."
"And your face-"
"It'll heal."
"Stop making excuses! You're hurt and you can't play!"
You grin at her dopily. "Some things are more important than playing."
Jessie nods along seriously. "Healing, you're right."
A little bark of laughter bubbles out of your throat. "I was going to say watching you play but trust you to think about my health."
"Well, one of us has to care! You're being very blasé about this!"
"Jessie, come here."
"I-"
"Jess, please?"
She shuffles onto the bed with you and you throw your arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer into you until there's barely a gap between you.
"I'll be fine," You tell her, staring into her eyes," It was a clean break. No surgery. Just a cast. I'll be fine in a few months. It wasn't your fault. I won't hear you saying otherwise."
"But-"
"No, Jess. It was just a horrible accident. That's it."
You're not usually this firm with her but Jessie, your sweet girlfriend was spiralling like always and you were adamant about her not shouldering the blame herself.
"I didn't mean to," She says, eyes wet with unshed tears and you tuck her head into your neck.
"I know, Jess, I know. It's okay. Just a freak accident. I shouldn't have been on my board in the first place."
Jessie's short hiccupping laughter fills your ears. "No, you shouldn't have. We need to throw them away when we get home."
"Would that help you sleep better?"
She nods.
"Alright. Can we sell them though? Because, you know, some of them are worth enough to make serious money. We can redo the kitchen."
You can feel Jessie smile into your neck. "Only if we promise we can have a breakfast bar."
"Breakfast bar and a reading nook," You agree," But I've got to be allowed to keep one board."
"Not the one from today."
You kiss the top of her head. "No, not the one from today."
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