#but I don’t think I can make happy things anymore
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3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes
When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend.
DISCLAIMER
This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only.
You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk.
Word count: 8.6K | See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.
11:57 PM
Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it.
11:58 PM
The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?
“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”
In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you.
“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”
He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored.
11:59 PM
It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue.
“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”
“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”
“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”
“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”
12:00 AM
Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today.
“Leave. Please.”
“Spencer..”
“Stop. Please. Leave.”
“Wait Spence-”
Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful.
12:31 AM
‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra.
“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe.
“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.
“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”
“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”
“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”
“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”
“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”
Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state.
12:56 AM
You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”
The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror.
2:07 PM
You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.
“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.
“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought.
“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.
“Um, sure”, you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little.
“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up.
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.
“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around.
“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.
“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had.
“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen.
“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?”
“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?”
Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.”
“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive.
“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone.
He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”
3:42 PM.
You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything.
Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could.
The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him.
What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.
Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours.
“Emily!”
“Hey, how are you holding up?”
“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.
“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”
Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”
You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.
“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.
Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.
“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.
You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.
Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.
“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.
You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.
4:03 PM
Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”
No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?”
“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”
“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”
“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”
“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue.
“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”
As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.
“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise.
“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself.
The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”
Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”
“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”
“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.
“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?”
“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”
“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”
“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”
“What was off?”
“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”
You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that.
“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”
“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”
“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”
“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”
“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”
“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”
“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”
“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”
“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”
“But it’s what you’re thinking”
“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”
“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”
“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head! … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Leave. Please.”
“Spencer..”
“Stop. Please. Leave.”
“Wait Spence-”
“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”
“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”
Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?”
You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place.
“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”
“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”
“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”
“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.”
She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off.
Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now.
Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.
“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.”
“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out.
“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”
You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?”
“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay.
Spencer’s POV
It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.
“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon.
Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say.
“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”
Your POV
Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.
“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:
2:17 AM
“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided.
As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too.
Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?”
“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself.
“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern.
“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it.
He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”
Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?”
You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.”
“Are you sure?” Emily asks.
“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.
“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.
“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason.
“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.
You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again.
4:31 AM
Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.
“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?”
“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time.
“I’m not.” You persist.
“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.
“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”
“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.
“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.
4:55 AM
“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you.
Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”
The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.
“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.”
You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.
“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”
“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.”
“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.”
“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.
Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her.
Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark.
“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush.
“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay.
“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back.
“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.”
“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice.
“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy.
“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes.
“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.
“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.
“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”
“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”
“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”
“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.”
“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.
“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around.
“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”
You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”
“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”
“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.
“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start.
“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events.
“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”
“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer.
“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling.
“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.
“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”
“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly.
“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.
“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears.
“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand.
“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.
“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”
You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing.
The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to.
“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”
“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times.
“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.
“Spencer?” You say after a second.
“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.
“Thank you too.”
“Always.”
Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other.
Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.
AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).
Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)
Thank you for reading!
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x fem!reader#criminal minds fandom#ssa spencer reid#fem!reader#bau team#spencer reid fic
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Another Life - Spencer Reid
Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Non Specified but imagined fem)
Warnings - not spell checked, character death??, cheating, all cm trigger warnings, Maeve, mentions of eating disorders addiction and suicidal thoughts.
Summary - You we’re ready to marry him, he was ready to leave.
———————————————————————
You fell in love four years ago. Budding new SSA Y/L/N and the marvellous Doctor Reid, the BAUs power couple, attached at the hip - perfect.
And perfect it was, you and spencer had been through everything together. Case after case, his addiction, your own struggles with disordered eating, and everything inbetween, so when he started being distant, and getting migraines, you were sure you could help. You found him the best doctors, geneticists, anything and anyone.
You never thought he’d fall for Maeve Donovan, his geneticist, i mean how could you, you’d seen the ring. He was going to propose, or so you thought, a beautiful amethyst ring hidden in the blazer pocket of his work suit. Not your favourite crystal but you’re sure he had a reason for picking it, he always did.
So you began planning.
And you planned and planned until it suddenly didn’t feel like he was going to propose anymore.
“Spence?” You call out from the kitchen where you’re making dinner.
“Yeah love?” He walks in.
“I was just thinking, do you ever think about marrying me?”
“Well yeah in the future when we’ve settled a bit more, i’m happy how we are right now”
“Oh” You sigh, “What about that ring in your blazer pocket? What’s that for then?”
Silence. You know what that means.
“Is she pretty?” He looks down at his shoes.
Your turn off the stove and wipe your hands on your trousers.
“It’s Maeve isn’t it? The doctor?” You giggle sadly “You always liked them smart”
“Y/n…”
“Does she make you happy?”
“Not like you do”
You scoff. He looks at you confused.
You pick at your nails, crying slightly. “You were the one for me Spence, and I just want you to be happy, I thought that was with me but i guess not anymore” You shrug before grabbing your bag.
“What are you doing?” He try’s to grab your hands.
“Im going to stay with Garcia tonight” You reach the door, “Maybe you can invite Maeve for dinner, i made your favourite. I’ll be back tomorrow to gather my things”
“Please don’t do this..”
“Goodbye Spencer Reid”
———————————————————————
The past month had been hell for you, you didn’t tell anyone the real reason you and Spencer split up, not wanting to ruin his friendships with the rest of the team, but you hadn’t been doing well. You’d lost a lot of weight, stopped going out with the team, and started throwing yourself into your work.
It was plain as day that you were heartbroken.
So when Spencer came in, seeking help for Maeve, you were advised to steer clear of the case. But you were determined to show everyone you were fine.
You worked the hardest on the case and found Diane first, and joined spencer on retrieving Maeve.
You walk in unarmed, as requested by Diane, and see Maeve being held by gunpoint.
“Diane, right?” You try and sound as calm as possible, “I’m Y/n”
“Stay back or I shoot her!”
“She rejected you didn’t she? Your paper? I read it and it was good, just needed a little more evidence”
“What evidence?”
“Someone who wasn’t your parents, who wanted to die”
You breath in
“I can help Diane, you need someone like me, you can kill me”
“You’re trying to trick me!” She exclaims.
“i’m not, Maeve doesn’t want to die, do you Maeve”
She begins to cry begging for her life.
“And you do?”
“I’ve got nothing left to live for”
You look to Spencer sadly.
“Think about it Diane, this gives you the evidence you need” You smile.
“You’re trying to trick me!”
“Fine, I guess Dr Donovan was right” I fake sigh and get a little closer, “You aren’t worth the time or effort”
In an instant, Maeve is thrown to the floor and Diane grabs and shoots you both in the stomach.
You fall to the ground.
Spencer instantly runs to you, cradling you in his arms, your breaths shallow and weak.
“Is Maeve okay?”
Astounded at your care he says “Please don’t worry about her, save your strength, the medics are on their way”
“I don’t think i have the time Spence”
“Please baby” He whispers.
“Are you happy Spence?”
“She’s not you…”
He holds you tight and you reach up to cradle his cheek with your hand, “Please let yourself be happy” A metallic taste covering the inside of your mouth.
As he’s holding you he can feel how much smaller you’ve become. “You’ve not been taking care of yourself” He begins to cry
“It’s not important now,” I whisper, “Spence?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think i’m another life we made it
He thinks for a moment.
“I’m every universe i will be forever yours, I just wish it could’ve been in this one too” Beginning to sob
“And i will always be yours too, you were it for me Spencer Reid”
His tears fall down quicker than you can wipe them away.
“At least we’ll have all those other lives, we could have that wedding I planned,” I giggle sadly, “You would’ve loved it”
“I should’ve asked you, I wanted it to be you”
“I wanted it to be me too”
Your eyes begin to close, in the distant shouts for medics get louder, the blaring of sirens closer.
“I love you” he whispers, “Please don’t leave me, we’re not done yet”
———————————————————————
#spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!readr#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner#maeve donovan#zugzwang#diane turner#spencer reid x reader angst#writing#angst prompt#angst#angst with a happy ending#angst with a sad ending#angst with a hopeful ending
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hii i love your writing especially the wandnat fics 😭 can i request a pt. 3 or just something with “the blip” universe where r wakes up after spending the night at her moms and when she doesn’t find them in their room she starts panicking and it takes her back to when they blipped (but they find her and help her thru it)
The blip | 3
Summary: Broken families take time to heal.
Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader
Warnings: some angst, panic attack-ish
Word count: 1283
a/n: I added some things, hope you don’t mind! I think I’m going to make a 4th part too🫢
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
Previous parts: part 1, part 2
The little while Y/N was supposed to stay with her moms turned into a week, then two more, a month, and another one. However, Wanda and Natasha have not minded it at all, they’re over the moon to spend more time with their daughter.
They don’t live at their old apartment anymore, having decided it’d be too overwhelming for Y/N to go back there. Instead, they live in a house further away from the city and the noise. It has three bedrooms, one for guests, one for Wanda and Natasha, and one for Y/N.
It’s perfect for the three of them.
Of course, Natasha and Wanda aren’t pressuring Y/N into moving in with them permanently, which is why she is still paying rent on her crappy apartment, but their hope is high.
Y/N paces around in the living room, wearing her best clothes, which weren’t that good with her minimal income as she refused to let her mothers use too much money on her.
“She’ll be here soon.” Wanda sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving her a comforting smile. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I know, I just-“ she takes a breath, “I haven’t seen her since that day.”
Natasha steps inside the room. “She won’t blame you for that. She’ll understand why.”
Staying quiet, Y/N stares out of the window, waiting for a car to drive into their road. Her hands are shaking, so she keeps playing with the rings on her fingers. Wanda keeps staring at the rings with a small smile, happy to see her daughter wearing her old rings, but missing the times she used to play with her hands when nervous.
A black car with tinted windows drives to the front of the house. Kat’s breath hitches, seemingly unable to move before Natasha gives her a small nudge. “Go on.”
Y/N walks to the porch and down the few stairs on it, her moms behind her. Maria is standing by her car. “Hey, bug.” She has a smile on her face, but she looks afraid. Y/N is pretty sure she has never seen Maria afraid.
“Hi, aunt Maria.”
With that, Maria, who brides her ability to keep her emotions in check, starts crying.
Y/N’s eyes widen. It takes her a moment to react, but when she does so, she walks straight to Maria and hugs her. Her arms wrap around Maria’s neck, while the woman’s arms go around Y/N’s waist tightly.
They stare for a moment, both crying, before Maria pulls slightly away to wipe away the tears. “I’m so sorry, I really am.” She sniffles, moving her hands on Y/N’s cheeks to lift her head up to face her. “I’m sorry I left you alone in there.”
Y/N shakes her head, her lower lip quivering at her honorary aunt’s words. “It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper.
Maria smiles, appreciating the words though she doesn’t fully believe them. One of her hands moves to the side of Y/N’s head, petting her hair softly. “You’re so grown now. You’re not fourteen anymore.”
“I’m not fourteen anymore.”
“You don’t need your aunt to guide you anymore.” Her voice is soft, but it has bitterness in it. She’s angry at the world, and herself, for missing out on the rest of Y/N’s teenage years.
“I do.” Her words are quick. “I need you, just like I still need my moms.” The last words come out quieter than the rest, just so Wanda and Natasha can’t hear her. It was always easier to reveal certain things to Maria rather than her moms.
Maria glances at the two other women patiently waiting for them by the porch. She gives them a smile. “Let’s go inside, yeah? we have all the tome in the world now.” Her hand rests on Y/N’s shoulders as she starts leading her towards the house.
Maria stayed in the Maximoff-Romanoff household until four in the morning. They spent all the hours catching up, though Y/N wasn’t too keen on talking about her life alone too much, but she shared the important details.
The clock strikes 12:30 when Y/N finally manages to wake up, still tired from staying up so late. It takes her 20 minutes to actually get out of bed.
She stands up, stretching her whole body and yawning, which causes her to get a short dizzy spell. With tired movements, she walks into the empty kitchen.
Y/N frowns, usually her moms are already up and making breakfast at this time. Her heart gets a heavy feeling, but she pushes it away, making her way to the main bedroom. She knocks on the door. When there’s no answer, she knocks again, harder this time.
“Mom? Mama?” She’s not afraid to call Wanda mama anymore.
Once again, no answer.
Her breathing picks up. This isn’t the blip, this isn’t the blip. She says the sentence over and over in her mind, but it’s getting swallowed by her panic. She opens the door and steps inside the empty bedroom, her dread growing by the second.
“Mom!” Y/N starts walking in and out of all the room, checking every possible nook and cranny. “Mama!” She quickly makes her way to the living room. Her shaky hands grab the remote control and turn on the television. The channels change quickly as she searches for the news channel.
Before she can fully try to listen to the news anchor, the front door opens. Her moms walking in, both of them holding grocery bags.
“Where were you?” Y/N shaky words make the two women set the bags down, frowns on their faces as they see the disheveled state their daughter is in. “I- I thought you were gone again. Why would you leave like that? You can’t just-“ the words are coming out quickly.
“Hey, hey,” Wanda sits on the couch, pulling Y/N right next to her, “we’re here and we’re okay.”
Natasha walks into the kitchen, picking up a note they wrote from the floor. It was taped to the fridge so Y/N would see the written We’re grocery shopping, will be back soon! easily. “I’m sorry, kрошка.” She sets the paper on the counter before joining the two on the couch. “The note fell.”
Y/N sniffles, trying to keep her sobs at bay while she fully leans into her mothers’ embrace. “I thought you left me again.”
“No, no.” Natasha and Wanda sandwich Y/N in their embrace. “We will never ever leave you again, and I know-“ Natasha continues talking before Y/N can say anything, “I know it’s hard to keep that promise, and it’ll take you time to fully trust us again. That’s okay. You just have to know, that we’ll do everything in our power to keep you and us safe.”
Y/N sniffles, her head in the crook of Wanda’s neck and her hand holding onto Natasha’s hand tightly. “Okay,” her voice is quiet as a whisper, “you won’t leave without telling again?”
“No, baby.” Wanda kisses the top of her head, keeping her face there, taking comfort in her scent even though it’s not as familiar. “We won’t leave without making sure you know exactly where we are.”
Y/N nods. She pulls away and rubs her eyes, clearing them from the tears. “What’d you get from the store?” She changes the subject, feeling slightly embarrassed of her panicked state.
Her moms make no comment of it, they go right into telling Y/N about their plan of the day to cook and bake together.
#marvel#mcu#mcu imagine#marvel imagine#mcu fanfiction#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#wandanat x daughter!reader#wandanat x fem!reader#wandanat x you#wandanat x female reader#wandanat imagine#wandanat x reader#wandanat fic#wandanat#mom!natasha romanoff x reader#mom!wanda maximoff#mom!natasha romanoff#mom!wanda maximoff x reader#mom!wandanat#fluff#wandanat x teen!reader#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x daughter!reader#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader#maria hill#platonic maria hill x reader#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#slight angst
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5. touch me, i'm golden
Let's Get Lost Chapter 5 | Frankie Morales x female reader
Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place. However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster …
Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, references to past drug addiction, references to alcohol, historic argument referenced, one passing reference to body insecurity, reader is unnamed with no physical desctipton but wears a necklace, Frankie and reader are parents, yearning?
Word Count: 3600
Notes: Thank you for the lovely feedback so far - it's meant so much to me and I hope you enjoy this update. I am so excited to share this chapter with you! The chapter title is from Let's Get Lost by Bats for Lashes
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Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, oral (f!receiving), reader wears a dress, reader and Frankie are parents, mentions of alcohol, discussion of contraception, one moment of panic.
Frankie’s arms are around you, familiar and safe. It brings back memories of the mornings before, a montage of happy and fleeting moments you once thought would make up your forever.
You don’t feel bitter about it today.
You kissed him yesterday. The two of you kissed more accurately, because it was definitely mutual. Your plans at showing how mature, how evolved the two of you were that you could share a hotel room and co-parents and put Clara first feel on shakier ground than ever. A crush was one thing, laughable almost, but to kiss him?
You missed him though. The feel of his stubble against your skin, the way his arms encompass you right now, even just the heat of his skin.
You can pretend being single is fine, that sleeping in the middle of the bed is a bonus and a privilege, but you have truly missed Frankie. He was supposed to be your forever after all.
He moves, slowly shifting from his slumber. You hear him exhale and then a sleepy, “Mornin’. Is Clara up yet?”
You shake your head as you turn around as quietly as you can, letting Frankie rest a hand on your hip over the duvet.
“So we should talk.“
Frankie smiles. “Here it comes.” His tone doesn’t match his face, it’s forced and there’s a wistful and bitter edge to it.
”Here what comes?”
“It was a mistake, it’s going to wreck everything, you don’t feel that way anymore.” He shrugs sadly. “It’s okay.”
“Frankie.”
“I mean it, it’s okay. On vacation … we’re on vacation, right? Everything goes topsy turvy on vacation.”
“I - don’t, Frankie, I don’t think it was a mistake.” Or at least you didn’t.
The pause feels like forever.
“You don’t?”
You shake your head, nervously pulling the duvet closer to you. Please don’t say it was a mistake, you think, because what could be worse than falling for your ex at your best friend's wedding and then it not even being reciprocated. The two of you will have to go back to Lia and Ben ferrying Clara between homes, it will be a disaster.
“I -” Frankie exhales, “Fuck.”
“Fuck?”
“I - I don’t know how to …. Look, I don’t think it’s a mistake, I don’t. And I don’t because I’ve never stopped feeling like it’s you, that you and me ... I never stopped. I love you and I think I always will.”
“Frankie,” There’s a lump in your throat and you’re not sure what to say. Frankie’s always struggled with words, his love language is action, physicality.
He showed his love to you a hundred ways when you were together, before the addiction. You would characterise his love as thoughtful gestures, the featherlight touches if you passed him that sent flutters to your stomach, the way he’d bring home your favourite meal if you had a rough day. That might not sound a lot, but for several years you didn’t that Frankie didn’t like that dish at all, that it was one of his least favourite meals or cuisines. He would get it for you though - if he thought it would make you smile.
Words weren’t his forte, he was driven by action, by physical gestures.
“I don’t expect you to be the same,” Frankie adds, “The way I was, the way things were, I know I let you and Clara down so much and I was a mess.” He’s speaking in a low voice but you hear the crack of emotion in his voice when he mentions Clara.
“You were hurting.”
“I hurt a lot of people doing that though. I missed so much with Clara,” he says sadly.
“She only knows you’re her dad who she adores and who, let’s be honest, is wrapped around her little finger. How many times have I picked you up with hair clips in your hair?”
“A few. I’m steeling myself for when she discovers nail varnish.”
“We have a few years before then, I hope.” You reach for Frankie’s arm and squeeze his hand. “You need to stop punishing yourself for the past, please, Frankie.”
“I - yeah.”
“Good.”
“So neither of us think it was a mistake, huh?” he asks after a moment, a wry grin spreading on his face.
“Mummy? Daddy?” Clara calls.
This holiday, your child has clearly developed an uncanny ability to join a conversation at the worst time. You’re not sure where she’s learnt this skill from, or if all toddlers have this, but it’s starting to seem like a pattern.
“Hey, good morning, Clara,” Frankie says, rousing himself from the bed. “What are we thinking we’ll go for at breakfast today? Pancakes? Waffles?”
He looks back at you, a thousand unspoken words in his eyes as he winks - a promise for later.
“It’s me,” Frankie calls as you hear the room door close behind you. You left Frankie and Clara at breakfast a little earlier, partly to escape the tension between you and Frankie that you were sure everyone else could see.
“I’m in the bathroom, won’t be long. I’m decent though.”
You turn around to see Frankie smirking, one arm against the door jamb of the bathroom. He’s clearly been watching you neatening things in the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything but just raises an eyebrow.
He may have already clocked the made bed, you think.
“Well, I don’t want housekeeping to think we’re messy,” you say, holding your hands up defensively. You don’t know why it matters you, but you really don’t want to be judged by the housekeeping, to be one of those awkward tourist families. You’re used to cleaning up a room now, it’s just good manners surely?
“You haven’t changed,” he says with affection.
You’re not sure what to say to that, how to respond. You have changed, you know you have. You feel sharper around the edges than before, cynical and most of all tired. You’re scared about that.
Frankie’s confession fills is reverberating in your mind because what if thinks you’re the same person, or has this idealised version of you on a pedestal? You’ll disappoint him surely.
He’s loved you all this time, through everything. Surely that means something?
“Where’s Clara?” you ask, looking around Frankie to see if your daughter is hiding behind him.
“Kids’ club, they’re doing crafts and apparently she absolutely couldn’t miss it,” Frankie says softly. ”Same crafts she can do at home, but -”
You smile. Clara’s already excitedly told the two of you about the friends she’s made in the club, about the fun she has there. Part of you wants her with you all the time to make memories, so you know you’re giving her the very best time you can, but you’re so grateful for the chance to unwind too, to remember who you are beyond Clara’s parent.
“So, it’s just you and me?”
“It’s just you and me until the boat trip,” he replies in a low voice, standing closer to you and framing his arms around you.
“Whatever will we do?”
“No idea, you said something about a book, right? You had a few to read this vacation - are you done with that?”
Frankie kisses you, it’s lazy and soft and oh so addictive and you immediately return the gesture, enjoying the feel of his skin, the heat of his lips against yours.
“Hmm, yeah, definitely could do with some reading time,” you tease, “but uh, maybe later.“
“Thank god,” he says, deepening the kiss and guiding you against the sink. “I’ve been thinking about this since yesterday. Haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”
“Oh really?”
“Uh huh,” Frankie says, kissing the edge of jaw. “Been thinking about what I’d do if this … if this happened. If I got the opportunity to do this again.”
“What were you thinking about doing?” you ask, looking up at his deep brown eyes that are full of mischief.
“Well, I guess you’ll have to find out.”
“Colour me intrigued.”
Frankie kisses you, filled with confidence and you let him steer you up onto the counter, instinctively wrapping your legs against him and trying to bring him closer to you. Your hands linger on the edge of his T-shirt and you pull at the hem to bring it over his head.
You’ve been thinking about this since the kiss. Looking at Frankie now with his shirt off and mussed up curls, all you want is him. You have no idea what you want to do first, there’s part of you that just wants to touch him, to validate he’s here and real, and yours for the moment. It’s been so long. Even this week, this realisation at the start feels like an age ago, like you’ve been anticipating him for years.
Frankie’s hands are on your legs, moving up and underneath your summer dress as he kisses the sensitive spot behind your ear. He traces circles on your inner thigh as he pulls away from his kiss.
“Hey,” you start but he just winks.
That wink really shouldn’t make you feel quite as aroused it does. That wink is dangerous. Very dangerous.
Frankie moves his kisses further down, his hands pushing your dress further up your thigh before, your underwear down your legs and you kick them off.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers, awe in his voice.
There’s something about being with Frankie that you’ve never experienced with other men. He has this way of making you feel safe and seen and like there is nothing more he wants than to be with you. It’s addictive and the feeling storms through your mind in a rush.
He kisses the inside of your knee, tracing light kisses up your leg, spreading your legs with his hand as he moves towards your centre.
“Just look at you,” he utters, awe in his voice before he puts his mouth on you.
You reach for his hair, fingers knotted around the curls at the nape of his neck and try not to pull as he swipes up your centre to your clitoris, one hand on your right hip and the other holding your scrunched up dress away.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he says before diverting his attention back to his ministrations. Every touch, every movement Frankie makes is masterful. He’s an expert at building you up, at listening and reacting to every part of your body, to bring you to the very edge. “Missed you.”
You feel like there’s a thousand things Frankie’s trying to tell you through this moment, all those unspoken words and sentiments. Every part of you is reacting, your mind is becoming wonderfully clear, focused only on him, on the way he makes you feel.
The heat builds in your stomach, every swipe or suck causing a new ripple of delight. You try and shift, let your body move in react, your hips bucking at one point as Frankie masterfully maintains his hold on you.
You can feel the pressure building, are barely conscious of the sounds you’re making as your back arches, as you shut your eyes and delight in everything Frankie is doing.
“C’mon, baby, you’re nearly there,” he encourages. “That’s it.”
You feel the way your legs are shaking, the way each muscle is tensing and preparing for that oh so needed release.
You say his name, Frankie, Frankie, Frankie.
The taste of you on his lips, both of your breathing is ragged and you wrap your arms around him, aiming to move but he keeps you in place.
“Steady,” he says gently.
“What about you?”
“Soon, soon, baby. It’s not a game, we got time.”
Have you? Is there time? Part of you wants to protest, to say no, you have to fit in as much time together as possible now because at some point you’ll need to go home. The two of you are in limbo, in the vacation idyll and how, how does this continue in Florida? Would it? Would he want to? What does it all mean?
“Honey, I can see your brain working overtime,” he says softly.
“I just -”
“We don’t need to overthink it,” he replies, but you notice the way he’s stiffened slightly and he’s taken a step backwards.
“I -” you pause, unsure of what to say but wanting to fill the pause, stop the silence. “I’m sorry, it’s a lot.”
“That’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassures you.
It’s this that abates the anxiety, finally clearing the buzzing in your brain. Frankie’s gentle reassurance washes over you like a palm The lack of assumptions, the way this man makes you feel safe. He doesn’t even feel real to you right now. As he moves away you pull him closer, entwining your body with his.
“Frankie, I need you,” you say.
He looks at you with clear heat in his eyes. “I - what?”
You smile at him, drawing him closer. “Frankie, please will you take me to bed?”
He smirks. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”
The sudden smugness in his voice makes you giggle but then his lips are on you again.
The two of you are touching the whole time you move from the bathroom to the bed. Hands. Lips. You don’t want to be away from him, to break this moment between the two of you.
Your dress is off, his shorts discarded to the floor and boxers kicked somewhere in the room.
He guides you to the mattress, kissing your lips and then the right and left side of your jaw. The reverent way he looks at you makes you wonder if he’s trying to commit every part of you, of this moment, to his memory.
You reach up and touch his jaw. His eyes are heavy with desire, you can feel the coarse stubble on his jawline, the familiarity of his body on you. He smells different and the same at once. It’s all mixed up in coconut scented sunscreen, the same cologne he used to wear on date nights. The one you loved. He looks healthy again, he looks like the Frankie you fell in love with.
He kisses you. “Are you sure you want to -” he begins.
“Absolutely. Do you?”
He raises an eyebrow, looking down to draw your attention to his erection. “I already said I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
“Even when it was bad? Back when you hated me?”
“Even then. And hate’s a strong word.” He pauses. “I just want to - five minutes ago you seemed worried and I don’t want that. We can slow this down, baby, we’ve got time. Or, we don’t have to -”
“I mean it too. I want this. I want you.”
You want to bottle up the smile Frankie wears in response. It would be the purest serotonin, happiness in a bottle.
“I - I’m on the pill still if you don’t have a condom.”
“Good, good. I don’t actually, I can get them though. But I’ve been tested and I’m clean.”
“That’s good, that’s fine. Want you, want to feel you.”
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he says, groaning slightly which sends an immediate thrill down your body.
Part of you still feels awkward about these conversations but there’s something about the way Frankie’s looking at you, the heat pooling in your body, the knowledge of just how much your body wants Frankie right now. How much you want him.
He guides himself into you. It feels familiar and yet new. This was not the problem with you and Frankie; your bodies connected and every time you were with him, it felt so real, so right. You kiss. entwining fingers together as he moves, as both of you raggedly breathe. He groans into your mouth as he kisses you and you tighten your arms around him and the two of settle into a rhythm.
“You’re incredible,” he says.
“So are you,” you say, “so are you.”
You can feel the sensation rising, a crescendo of feeling and then you are there. A tangle of each other’s names, of gasping breaths and sweat coated limbs.
In the aftermath, you both lie there. A woozy peaceful sensation has filled your body and mind. You're almost afraid to voice your thought, that being with Frankie again just then was better than you had imagined.
“Is it wrong I want to say we’ve still got it?” Frankie asks after a minute.
You laugh. “No, no, not at all. Was thinking something similar. That was - that was something.”
“Shit, I don’t think I’m going to be able to think for five more minutes.”
“Just five? Clearly we need more practice.”
“Well, I could sign up for that,” Frankie says.
“We need to get ready for the catamaran trip.”
“Nah, we don’t. I’ve been on boats before. We can stay right here.”
“Benny and Lia get married tomorrow, baby. We need to -” You break off.
“What is it?” Frankie props himself on an elbow and looks at you carefully.
“We can’t ruin their wedding.”
“What do you mean?”
“After Will’s -”
“That’s not going to happen,” he says, soothing and calm.
“I can’t wreck another -”
“You didn’t. We didn’t. They’re happy, it’s okay. It was, it was bad, yes, but -” Frankie swallows. “I’m sober now.”
“I know. I know.”
“We won’t ruin it.”
“We can’t take away from their day, or … any of it.” What if they find out and ask questions? You have no idea what comes next with Frankie, if this feeling is just a vacation escape or if it’s, as you suspect. real. What you do on vacation isn’t real life. A holiday romance is just that, it doesn’t survive the real world.
You can’t lead everyone through another of yours and Frankie’s heartbreaks. You don’t think you can go through it again.
The calm wash of your pleasures has been replaced with sharp panic. A bucket of water thrown over your delusions.
You love Frankie, but this is wrong. You can’t be together right now. You cannot ruin Benny and Lia’s wedding; you cannot ruin the peace between you and Frankie. What if it doesn’t work again, what if this time it’s worse? What about Clara?
You thought it would be worth it to be with him, but is the cost too high?
“So, you want us to not talk about this with the others right now?” Frankie asks, “Seems fine.”
“Santi’s been glaring at me for days.”
“Santi’s just worried about me,” Frankie admits, “He knows, he knows how I feel. How I still feel. He was worried about me on this break. Thought I was putting myself through it unnecessarily.”
“Were you?”
“We’re here now.”
“But if we weren’t?”
“We are though,” he says simply.
“What if it’s not enough? I love you, Frankie, I do. What if that’s not enough though? I can’t, we can’t mess up everything again. Clara’s not a baby now, she could remember. I don’t want that for her.”
“I know this is a lot.”
“I’m scared, Frankie,” you admit, “I don’t know what this all means for us or -”
He reaches and clasping your hand in his. “Don’t overthink it. We can just -”
“What? We can fuck on vacation and pretend it didn’t happen? You can tell me you still love me and think that doesn’t change anything? That I can say that back to you too? Then we go home in a couple of days and pretend nothing happened? It just didn’t matter.”
“Of course it does. if it’s too much though, if we can’t - we have to figure out how to move past that then and I can. I don’t want this to upset you, or me, or Clara, or fucking anyone.”
“I think we need some space to think.”
Frankie whispers your name.
“It’s just too much right now,” you say, voice thick with tears. “I love you, Frankie.”
“And I think we’ve established, I’m the same. Is that not enough?”
“We should get ready. That trip’s booked soon, isn’t it? We need to get Clara too.”
“Please, can we just talk about this some more?”
You make it to the bathroom before you start crying.
The bathroom makes it worse. It’s a shrine to your previous activities.
You’ll never be able brush your teeth amongst these marble counters and take in the luxury of a heated mirror without thinking of the way he methodically and precisely took you apart on the counter with his mouth and the way he left you saying his name like it was some sort of divine incantation because there were no other words left in your mind.
You want this still, you want him. You want to live in those moments in the bathroom and bedroom before your panic, you want to restart everything and pretend the break-up never happened.
It did though. There’s Clara too and she surely deserves so much more than this. She needs stability and calm parents who are drama free and don’t cause her problems through their own relationship drama.
You love each other though. Is Frankie right, is that enough?
Love didn’t seem to be enough before. It only made the wound wider and pain sharper. You don't want that heartbreak again, you don't want it for Frankie either.
You want love to be enough though. You don’t just want Frankie for this time you’re on vacation. You want Frankie and you back home in Florida. You want regular days with him too. You want coffee before work and organising chores, going to the grocery store even though you hate grocery shopping.
Love - you want to bask in his love and hope he can do the same with you.
You take a deep breath and finish straightening up.
“You’ve got this,” you say. You just wish you knew what this was.
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#frankie morales x female reader#frankie morales x reader#triple frontier fanfiction#frankie morales#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie catfish morales#triple frontier#fic: let's get lost#frankie morales x you
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Good Luck, Babe! Part 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)
Good Luck, Babe! Part 1 //Ellie Williams, TLOU//
(Inspired by Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan)
@dynsdiary made a post about Ellie x closet!reader Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan and I couldn’t go to sleep without writing it, so this is not super well edited
Word count: 1.2k
CW: Angst, profanities, allusions to sex, internalized homophobia, drinking, not well edited
You had spent another night with Ellie and you slipped out of her bed without waking her up around sunrise like you always do.
The feelings you have for Ellie Williams are undeniably strong, but you won’t let yourself take things further than your sexually explicit kind of love affair. You are straight. “I just needed a little lovin’,” you reassure yourself every time she has you moaning her name.
Even if you were gay, you would never come out of the closet. Certain members of your family, and several of your friends, would exile you. You see how many of the people in town treat Ellie like a pariah, and you know you aren’t strong enough to live like that.
*****
Waiting for your drink at the bar, a mere 12 hours later, you feel an arm slip around your waist. Your head snaps around to see Ellie’s mischievous grin emerald eyes. You push her away from you and hiss “not here Ellie, not in front of these people, not in front of anyone.”
Ellie looks heartbroken, running her hand through her auburn hair and averting her eyes. “You know I cry when you leave without saying goodbye. It’s not fair.” She whispers in distress. That rips your heart in two. Ellie deserves so much better than this but you are too selfish to let her go. “Can we please talk about this?” She begs.
“Fine, but not right now.” You promise her and she looks relieved. You instruct her to find you before she leaves and she bites back a smile before disappearing into the crowd. Thoughts of Ellie consume you for the rest of the night. The loud music isn’t enough to drown it out so you come up with a different plan.
You find the most eligible bachelor in the bar and bet him a kiss if he can beat you at darts, knowing you wouldn’t win. You are more than happy to oblige when one of his objectively attractive friends wants to make the same deal.
Approaching the poker table without any cash, you put in 5 kisses to the winner as your buy in instead of the $5 they were asking for.
About three drinks in, you tell one of your close guy friends that you would finally give him the chance he has always wanted with you. If he could take the most shots in 30 seconds. You know he could out drink you on your best day, and he celebrates his victory with a passionate make out session against the wall in a dark corner. When you finally pull away from him you stumble out of the bar and sit on the curb, you need a little air.
Ellie is the only thing on your mind, she has anchored herself there and held on through every forced kiss. At first you think you are imagining her beautifully familiar laugh. When you look up and see that she is actually there, she rolls her eyes. “You are so cliche.”
“Who cares?” You reply nonchalantly with a smirk and you can see a darkness grown in her eyes as she is overcome by anger.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” She snaps.
You bat your eyes at her the way you always do, hoping it will calm her down. “I’m just having a good time.”
Your flirty disposition does nothing to soften her anger. “Right in front of my face? With this…this thing between us?”
“Ellie I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, there is nothing between us. We are not together. We are nothing,” you remind her.
“You know what, it’s fine.” She spats. “It’s cool. I may be a fool but I know that you know the truth. Make a new excuse, another stupid reason. I know how I feel about you, and I can’t do this anymore.” Ellie turns to walk away and you grab her hand. “I don’t want to call it off!”
“But you don’t want to call it love!” She yells at you.
“Ellie please keep it down, we aren't the only ones out here.”
She obviously doesn’t care. “You can tell me you want that, why can’t you tell me what you really want?!”
You squint your eyes, growing irritable and raising your voice. “I’ve told you what I want, so please, tell me what you think I want.”
“You only wanna be the one that I call “baby”.” Ellie tells you as she kicks a rock.
You stand up. “So what if I like being called “baby” by you? So what if I have feelings I don’t want to admit? That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw my life away. This is just the way I am. I will do whatever it takes to fight the feeling.”
Ellie gets right up in your face. “You can say that’s just the way you are, but do you really think this is a battle you can win? You came onto me. I see the way that you look at me. I’ve heard the sounds you make when I touch you and I’ve listened to you beg for more. Go ahead, you can kiss a hundred boys in bars. I’ve seen the way you cringe away from them.”
“I just get nervous.” You roll your eyes and take a step back. “Nothing a few drinks can’t fix.”
“You’ve had plenty to drink. But feel free to shoot another shot to try to stop the feeling. Eventually you’ll drink yourself to death and that’s the only way you are going to escape.” Ellie has never been so harsh with you and her words hit you like a freight train.
“I would stop the whole world if it meant I could stop this feeling!” You cry out, on the verge of tears.
“That’s not how it works, babe. I can see it all now. You, in the years, with some sad excuse for a husband and a couple of bratty kids. You’ll wake up next to him in the middle of the night and look over at him in disgust. Put your head in your hands and cry because you are nothing more than his wife. You are going to think about me, all of those years ago, and want to sneak out on him while he sleeps, like you always did to me. Oh how the tables will have turned. But you won’t leave. You are too proud to come face to face with I told you so. You know that I would hate to say it, but all I would be able to say is ‘I told you so’.”
The tears start to fall, you can’t hold them back any longer. “Fine Ellie. I’ll admit it. I don’t want to be stuck with some man for the rest of my life.”
She crosses her arms. “I think I’m going to call this off.”
You try to plead with her. “Please don’t do this to me Ellie. I just wanna love someone who calls me ‘baby’. You call me baby. Would you still leave if I called this love?”
“Even if you call it love.”
You literally get down on your knees to beg. “Please Ellie!” You sob pathetically.
She backs away from you, and her face is saying that this hurts her more than it’s hurting you. “Good luck, babe.”
Update: Someone mentioned wanting a happy ending and I had so much fun writing this, so I will be writing a part 2! If you are here for the angst you can end here but a happy ending will be coming soon in part 2!
#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie x reader#tlou ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie tlou2#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams angst#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x fem!reader#ellie x fem! reader#ellie x you#the last of us ellie#chappell roan#good luck babe#ellie angst
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Arguing with Marshall Mathers - Headcanon
Here is how I imagine he is during an argument 🙊. Please tell me what you think, what you’d add… I’m curious 👀
What he argues about
- Let me preface this by saying that this man almost enjoys arguing and fighting when he is in a relationship. He said it himself : he is a little more happy when he is angry.
- He actually bitches a lot. And sometimes, it turns into an argument.
- He is also extremely emotional. He might not always look like it but he actually has a deep emotional range and some things hit him hard.
- Basically, he feels a lot, and sometimes, it overflows.
- He is also really passionate about certain topics and issues.
- Marshall might be the wet dream of many, he is not that easy to put up with.
- Sometimes, silly things can become arguments. That’s one of his many talents : making things more dramatic.
- Deep down, he is not the most confident human being and he has a hard time dealing with criticism.
- His first instinct is to get defensive, before getting offensive.
- Arguing with him is not all bad though. Because that’s one of the ways he shows he cares. He will not waste time arguing if he doesn��t care about the person in front of him or the subject matter.
- So if the two of you argue about your relationship (within healthy boundaries of course) it’s actually a good sign.
- If he didn’t want things to work out, he wouldn’t spent time arguing with you.
- He is, admittedly, not the best when it comes to dating and relationships so that might fuel an argument or two.
- He is a workaholic so a couple of fights about his schedule and priorities wouldn’t be surprising if it interferes with your relationship (bailing on you, last minute changes of plans, him being not focused on you enough…)
How he is when he argues
- Marshall is definitely petty and loves to have the last word.
- We all know he has a way with words and he knows exactly what buttons to push to make you mad.
- If he is extremely angry, he might be hurtful, too. Only with his words, though.
- He will never hit you or get physical during an argument. Roughhousing is only ok in the bedroom.
- He has been abusive in the past but that’s not who he is anymore.
- Sometimes, though, you wish he would just hit you in the face because it would hurt less than some of the words he uses.
- Usually, though, he doesn’t actually want to hurt you and regrets his harsh words.
- He is good at using hurtful words but he rarely, if ever, insults you.
- He doesn’t mind if you insult him though. Call him an asshole all you want. If anything, it proves he managed to get on your nerves and he likes it.
- During arguments, he actually wants to feel seen and heard. He wants to know he impacts you.
- One way to get back at him (that he absolutely hates) is giving him the silent treatment. It makes him mad.
- He’d rather have you yell at him than ignore him.
- Basically, in his mind, arguing is caring.
- He also secretly likes it when you get just as petty as him.
- You swear he sees pettiness as a sport.
- Some petty ideas to get to him include
- Having a designated “Fuck You Marshall” playlist you blast around the house when you’re mad at him.
- Said playlist would include music by artists he has a feud with, diss tracks aimed at him… 👀. And some music he hates, too.
- Another way to really piss him off would be to talk ill of the Lions 🦁
- « I hate you and the Lions suck. I’m glad the 49ers won that game ! »
- Anything light and petty is fair game.
- To be honest, he would probably find it hilarious and laugh about it afterwards.
- However there are some things you better not bring up during an argument because that will escalate very, very quickly.
- His family. You better leave his kids and his brother alone.
- If you have kids together, do not weaponize them against him. Don’t be toxic like that. Because he will not let you live it down.
- His past mistakes (abusive relationship, drug use…)
- He gets frustrated when he doesn’t manage to get his point across.
- During an argument, he is brutally honest with his feelings. No sugarcoating it.
- I can absolutely imagine him saying he loves you for the first time during an argument. He doesn’t mean to say it now but lets it slip.
- Safe to say that it puts an immediate end to the whole thing.
- (Now I want to write a one shot about this 🙈)
- He will absolutely annoy you on purpose.
- He is in his fifties but his inner annoying teenager comes out during an argument : rolling his eyes, sighing…
- There’s occasional yelling but not that much.
- If the argument is one-sided and you’re mad at him, he will absolutely try to make you laugh.
After an argument
- He doesn’t apologize easily. However, he knows when he is wrong.
- Oftentimes, he is better at showing you that he is sorry, rather than actually tell you.
- He will absolutely make it up to you with tons of attention and physical gestures.
- He might try to suck up to you with small gestures like a bouquet of flowers
- He is definitely into make up sex.
- Maybe that’s one of the reasons why he loves to argue so much.
- Overall, physical affection is a must in your relationship, especially after an argument. He needs it to feel that everything is ok between the two of you.
- Your arguments/fights might fuel his creativity. That’s the most efficient way for him to process things.
- However, you can and should expect him to take some creative liberties. He is going to make things seem bigger and more dramatic.
- Out of the two of you, he is probably the biggest drama queen 👀
#eminem#marshall mathers#slim shady#eminem fanfiction#eminem x reader#eminem fluff#eminem imagine#marshall mathers x reader#marshall mathers imagine#eminem headcanon
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☼ intro (end of the world) ☼ (kageyama tobio x reader)
⟡ cw: she/her pronouns used but not much, lmk if i miss anything else
⟡ a/n: i have been wanting to write for this album since the day it came out so im gonna do little drabbles for the songs as a way to make up for my lack of writings/requests that i actually need to upload so i hope you all enjoy it :3
⟡ eternal sunshine masterlist
You had been dating Kageyama Tobio for a little over a year at this point. Everything was always moving so fast…for him. While Kageyama was constantly playing volleyball and traveling the country for official matches, you were in college working towards your dream career.
Although you and kageyama have made so many efforts to keep in contact regularly by video calling and texting constantly or even travelling to see each other when possible, it has been difficult to come to terms with the fact that you do not spend as much time as you want to with each other. It has gotten to the point where you don’t know if keeping this relationship going is even worth it anymore. Both you and Kageyama want to get through it, you have had countless talks about wanting it to work out and you both always come to the agreement that neither of you wouldn’t trade anything for the world.
You think you’re meant for each other but you keep thinking to yourself ‘why dont i know that he is the one for me? Why do I only think it?’ but of course, you shake it off and continue on with the relationship. Even with all of these thoughts of figuring out if you are supposed to be with him for life or not, there are moments where the tough times make the good times worth it…and that is what keeps the both of you going. One of those moments was on your birthday a few weeks ago when Kageyama decided to surprise you with a visit.
~~~
After a long day of classes and your job at a doggy daycare, all you wanted to do was lay down in your bed with some comfy pajamas, eating chips without regard for the crumbs that would land on your bed sheets all while watching your favorite reality show. It was a pretty solid plan but it all went down the drain the minute you stepped foot into the hallway that had your apartment and saw that your door was opened. Your whole body filled with dread as you walked closer, worried that you had just been robbed but as you got closer you saw a small trail of silver confetti leading you through the doorway and as soon as you stepped foot infront of the entrance of your apartment, you stopped all of you belonging onto the ground and ran to the one thing that could be better than a lazy night. Your boyfriend.
“Tobio! What are you doing here?” you ask Kageyama as you jump into his arms while you become a giggling mess (who is also crying).
“I couldn’t have my angel be all alone on her birthday!” Kageyama chuckles as he embraces you in his arms but is quickly confused when you fall silent right after he finishes speaking. “[name]? You good there?” he questions you as he puts you down to be greeted with the blank expression on your face.
“My birthday..?” cocking your head to the side, you look behind Kageyama to see decorations all over your living area, eyes landing on the big ‘happy birthday’ sign. You had completely forgotten today was your birthday.
“Babe, don’t tell me you forgot your birthday?” Kageyama laughs out before pulling you in for another hug “and you say i’m the dense one.” he flicks your forehead before kissing it and all you can do is laugh along with him.
The rest of the night was pure bliss as you layed in bed with your loved one, eating your favorite type of sweet from your favortie bakery down the stree, while watching your reality tv show.
~~~
Thinking about this small but memorable event, you can’t help but smile as it helps you become certain that you and Kageyama are meant to be. You now knew that Kageyama Tobio would be the first and last person you run to if the world were to ever end and honestly, as your pulled out of your thoughts by your ringing phone that is signaling you that your boyfriend is calling you, you wouldn’t have it any other day.
#kageyama tobio#kageyama x reader#kageyama x reader fluff#kageyama tobio x reader#kageyama tobio x reader fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu drabbles
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Hg headcanons
Tw: some sad and depressioning content
- I don’t think mrs Everdeen ever re-marries again. I also don’t think she will ever date again. I think Katniss might even try to encourage her to seek somebody out, to make her less lonely and more whole family again. But she always declines and goes on “its only once in your life you have a x love // no, im happy how I m right now with you!// I can’t never find another like him”. I think she also does hold habits that she did just for mr Everdeen- like she has one side of the bed with double the amount of pillows because he always slept with it for his sore shoulder, or makes specific meals that HE particularly likes, or looks at the clock specifically at 5:34 pm because that was the time he always come home and she would toy with her wedding ring in dinner because he did that. She reads their book ever night before bed n specifically traces his handwriting, especially with the letter in his name. I don’t think she even buys her favourite flowers anymore because they both remind her of her daughter/husband, and that hurts her too much. Yes I think she is happy n her and Katniss have a better relationship, but some things are just too happy/painful to change up.
- However, I think hazelle, gale’s mum, does remarry/de-facto at some point in the future. I think it was a resistant thing to begin with, and I think even gale try to be rude to his step-father, but he warms up to cuz his mother is happy again. I think her and mr Hawthorne got together very young and that she is still wanting to live her life to the fullest.: like married at 19/21 and had gale by 20/23. Plus, she wants a father-figure for Vick and posy. Likely, I think she would even up w a single father in a similar situation or a widower who wants a big family. I think they still celebrate the deceases special days, and are a happy blended family. I also think gale also would warm up to his step-father because I think he respect him and also wants a father again, whilst seeing his mum happy again with a partner who loves her.
- Annie does not remarry. She is so content and happy w her son and still holds a long-lasting love for Finnick that won’t go away. I think once she tried, but it never worked out to ever date again. All her romantic started with Finnick and vowed that everyday that passes is only a day closer to be joined again with her love. She keeps him alive, reading his poetry and letters and wears his jumpers she made for him. And then mini Finn inherits it and she feels more present with him.
- mini finn looks just like Finnick, with just Annie darker hair. But everything else is just a copy of Finnick: his smile, eyes, height and mannerism. Even sounds like him. If in another life, I imagine her and Finnick having three boys. Named smth like Morgan, Adrian w mini Finn called Flynn (associated with the name Finnick, wanting to give him his own identity but still close w his father). Even would be considered.
- I think eventually, haymitch will get a mini farm. Its canon ( I think) he has geese, and eventually he get more animals too. Starting off with dog and then goats and ducks afterwards. But its not a lot of animals. Maybe 2 goats, 1 dog (a rescue he picked up), 4 ducks and 5 geese.
- I also think haymitch never fully becomes sober. yes, I think he will slow down his alcohol consumption and drink a little less heavily, but his body depended on it for too long that I think it would leave him unfinctional if he doesn’t have some. He’s been on it too long, though you can fix bad habits, they never fully go away.
- Annie and finicky like to collect seashells together in district 4 and make things from it. I think Annie knows how to make jewellery, cuz I imagine her dad a a pearl farmer and jewellery maker, and then finnick asked her to teach him nd he makes them for her. Annie knits and makes jumper/sweaters for finnick/mags.
- In connection to above, I think finnick is always cold or desperate wants to remain warm. Since d4 is in California, Annie makes him fisherman jumpers to wear at home. I think she makes mags fuzzy socks and they knit together. Mags makes her socks and crochet cover ups for the beach. Even jumpers too. Finnick can’t knit to save his life, but he likes being around the girls n reading to them
- Johanna’s dad was a carpenter and very talented in wood-working. I think she is similar like that too, cuz if she wasn’t to be a victor, I think she would be in the family trade. She makes everything-EVERYTHING by scratch for the home. Can make tables n chairs n cupboard, even a kitchen she could make by hand. She likes it because it distracts her from everything that haunts her. She made mini Finn a cubby house for play, where she and Annie join and have parties together (they live together as friends-sisterhood)
“Aunty Jo, would you like some more tea?” // “yes. Thank you mini Finn. Annie, sea biscuits for your drink?” // “That’s very nice of you Jo! Shall we afterwards watch a movie together? How about finding nemo?”
- I can’t explain it, idk why, but gale is born in between January n is a Capricorn. ((In deductive reasoning- it could happen! In July (reaping) his 18. when he dad died, he was already 14, while Katniss was still 11 turning 12. there is only a 2yr age different, rolling out the possibility of his birthday being more jan/December. Then, by the time it was snowing, coming around late dec/early in d12 (in Kentucky) he was already working in the mines. He also mentioned that he had 6 entries in his name for his first hg = where you can only enter your name once for every member of your family. In maths 7(July) - 6 (month entries) = 1 (jan). Also, by the time mj begins, gale has just turned was still 19- meaning his birthday has not occurred after July-december/jan, and then turns 20 later one, meaning during winter & jan, a new year. Plus, in horoscopes, he defiantly seems like a Capricorn: practical, overachieving, persistent n ambitions (very gale-esque). I place him between jan 7-18th).
- Psa, this is not perfect and I am most likely very very wrong
- Mags never had children, or at least couldn’t. I think early trackers messed up with her reproductive system and/or was afraid for her children, so she mostly adopted victors as her kids. Implying that finnick was her child and Annie too. But I do think she marries, simply because she had a wedding band in cf.
#hungergames#katniss everdeen#gale hawthorne#post mockingjay#peeta mellark#annie cresta#finnick odair#everlark#headcanons#mr and mrs everdeen#Mr and Mrs Hawthorne#I want happy ending and then I do this to myself becuz I like the pain#maybe it’s masochisitc here haha#johanna mason#mini Finnick stole my heart#haymitch abernathy
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Am I a bad person? Deep down I feel horrible and I hate myself, I’ve hurt thousands if not hundreds, ruined lives, I never tried to do these things, I’ve always had the best intentions, but I’ve always screwed everything up, now I have basically no one, everyone’s left, all I have is my family, and my brother and mom hate me, the keep hurting me and saying how bad I am, at this point I think they’re right. I don’t know what to do anymore.
#vent#I’m sorry#I know this blog is supposed to be for fun art stuff and funny memes#but I don’t think I can make happy things anymore#I feel dead
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Can you explain Strange Someone Frisk’s motivations a bit more? I don’t really understand how they could go from being a nice supportive kid to tampering with things in DR
well frisk Does appear to be nice and nonviolent even without the SOUL’s control (sans saying “even when you ran away you did it with a smile” and seemingly feeling guilty for taking more than one piece of candy (the bowl tipping over and the narration saying “you felt like the scum of the earth”(unless that’s just chara trying to guilt them/you)) and we know from deltarune that while the SOUL controls what frisk and kris do, where they walk and what they say, it doesn’t control how they say things, like kris saying things sarcastically/confusedly/as a joke when it’s a choice they don’t particularly agree with (like the “perish” being said enthusiastically, or saying they’d go to the festival w ralsei or noelle and not sounding like the Actually Want To).
and similarly to kris ithink ss frisk feels. lost. without the soul. in the context of the au, frisk doesn’t remember anything before falling into mt ebott. idk it’d they even remember their life before that day. idk if they even had one. they maybe convinced themself that they were literally made for their role, and didn’t exist before then. maybe them causing problems through the secret bosses is them trying to get the SOUL’s attention, bc the SOUL’s influence is all they know, and they know the SOUL is here now.
they’re messed up in a similar fashion as jevil and spamton (and presumably the other secret bosses we have yet to meet) but where as they were Told by frisk about their roles as characters in a story, and jevil’s method of coping being that he’s “free”, and spamton’s is by trying to escape, frisk was made aware by their firsthand experience, and has turned to telling the secret bosses. and well, while i don’t know Why frisk would let this knowledge upon them when they’d been previously kindhearted, maybe it has to do w like. their life being entirely upended by the game ending and being shunted out of that universe as a result. maybe they feel cheated. maybe they feel that doing good isn’t worth it. maybe they feel like they can’t do good without the SOUL telling them to do so. maybe they don’t even realize or think that what they’re doing is causing harm, maybe they think that telling them What’s Really Up is a good thing. they did actually help spamton, for a time.
think that makes flowey’s plea for the player not to reset, to leave the game alone let frisk have their happy ending, kinda. ironic. not that resetting Would Have done them any favors either.
also if i was made fully aware that my life was little more than a means to tell a story i think I’d snap a little bit too. my life is a game maybe I am tired of being nice, maybe I do just want to go apeshit. maybe I’ll cause some problems on purpose
#also this reminded me. on the comic w ss frisk and flowey talking and frisk thinking they don’t deserve a happy ending anymore#frisk forgives him but not themself bc of their differing circumstances#frisk feels like now that they’re doing Bad Things after having don’t Good Things that weren’t their own choices that they just. arent good#they KNOW what it’s like to do good. they HAVE done good. now they arent#frisk hasn’t been told how trauma can effect poeple and that healing isn’t linear. sad ! /ref#flowey was able to undo the harm he did at a moments notice when he would save and reset. he can’t anymore and hes doing better now. he’s a#he’s acknowledged his wrongdoings and worked to fix them post game#i couldn’t really get into that bc i lost the canvas in A Cropping Accident#sorry I’m beginning to feel incoherent idk if any of what im saying or have said makes any sense#i have a commission to work on and i have been here typing for like half an hour!!! goodbye now#the monarch’s court
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do you ever get so unbearably inexhaustibly heart wrenchingly lonely that u reach out to everyone u were ever close with in ur life and then break down sobbing in tears bc nothing is the same and nothing will ever be the same again
#:’/#I can’t stop crying#I think abt this all day every day#it wrecks me quite simply.#I don’t know how most people go around living their life without constantly being dragged down by the fact that all of the people you love#will one day leave or die#I can’t do this anymore#being alive is just one big funeral for all of the people you used to know lived and relived every day#how do I make it stop how do I make the memories go away#how do I take away the pain from things ending and only be left with the happiness that it happened#why can some people do that#why can’t I#it hurts too much too badly i’m pulling at my hair to feel any pain but this emotional pain it’s unbearable#i’m about to tear my hair from its roots#what do you do when you take depression meds but still have to self harm in order to distract from the unbearable thoughts
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am getting a lot of character inspo for shri’iia from amy gone girl. I don’t think she’s as smart nor calculated but she is similar to some degree in that she’s hyper aware of the current persona she’s presenting and how she’s appealing to the people. the masks and the mjndgames, that’s basically how shri’iia operated while she was still serving under her matriarch in menzoberranzan. she needed to play the roles the matriarch required of her and it was only when she was with her matriarch that she can be ‘Real Shri’iia’, and that’s how I imagined shri’iia to be esp in act 1 when she is so new and scared in the surface. she needed to work out who these people are (her companions) and what they liked, so her first persona - her blank one - the charming helpful paladin who got tadpoled and wants to go back home just like the rest of them (which was half true). she didn’t really argue and she generally agreed to what the group wanted. she was helpful and co-operative, ask her about her past and she will tell you something bland and generic- interesting enough to be ooh-ing about but not too interesting that they’ll delve deeper into it. then, when she got to know them a little more, she started crafting little personas adjacent to her first one ; she’s the girl who’s curious about magic but never had the chance to learn with gale, she’s a cool girl who likes mischief as debauchery with astarion, she’s the one who likes to take risks and live in the moment with karlach, the knight in silver armor who’s willing to help the tieflings with wyll, a disciplined fighter with lae’zel, someone who understands the depths of devotion with shadowheart - but none are really her, not really. ofc her own personality might slip in here and there but for the most part she’s appealing to them and what they’d like her to be but none of it is really genuine. shri’iia just needs to be on their good side to minimise the chances of them turning on her, and if they let her guard down it’ll be easier for her to get rid of them should the need arise. taking up all these different masks, collecting all these intel abt them to be used for later, slithering and making a place in their minds - it’s really how she operated back in menzoberranzan. I think the only one who catches on to her game is astarion but that’s bc he’s doing the same thing too, so it’s very game recognises game lmfao
it’s only when she breaks her oath and goes through her existential crisis that all of her masks drop and her real self comes out. she was never that kind of person lmfao ^, she’s greedy, selfish, paranoid and rather obsessive. she doesn’t care about a lot of things that doesn’t concern her, she has a cruel streak that she hasn’t shown before, and she hates doing anything that won’t really benefit her. but she’s fiercely loyal to anyone she likes, like a dog. and severely she craves validation and approval - also like a dog.
#like if shri’iia was smarter and wiser it’s really over for you hoes 😔 but she’s not lol#the matriarch also taught her how to deceive so she had good training lool like that’s coming from the master liar herself#and in game Shri’iia’s deception is p high so it tracks 👯♀️#but anyway I finished reading gone girl and shri’iia would’ve turned out like amy in her vengeance ending#I think if her paranoia consumed her and an outside figure validated her way of faking herself#and generally moulded her back to being that overly obsessive paladin who lives to serve - which is what her matriarch made her to be#but obv she can’t be that girl in the surface .. they can’t know abt the Lolth worship! they’ll kill her! so she makes a new one … a#completely different one that’s so detached from her previous self … someone new and charming and fun and harmless and the kind of person#you’ll feel safe around and happy to travel with. she is that girl! and more! and she’s down for anything! and she loves to help!#but she forgets the goddess she worships is fickle and vengeful and proud so her favor drops and suddenly her real self is left#with nothing .. so she doesn’t know what to do anymore … she doesn’t know if she should keep up this fake one I mean what’s the point does#she even have it in her anymore?? how can she go back home when they don’t want you back#like who is SHE without lolth even … bc the girl that she has been playing is nothing but a blank image#and that’s NOT her .. never been her… so shri’iia is left bewildered confused and even more scared#like what do you do if you’ve been left behind in this new world?? and the purpose of your existence doesn’t want you anymore but the#thing is she knows where she went wrong.. but she didn’t have a choice - or did she?? shri’iia doesn’t know .. she’s not a planner#you don’t need to plan when your matriarch does all the thinking for you and you just do what ur told bc there is nothing better than to#serve and fulfill your oath …!!! so she ends up getting wasted in a party with the people she didn’t even care to save lmfao#and then she gets drunk and ends up fucking this one guy just bc she asked and she’s already hit rock bottom#lolth always says fuck elves anyway so she goes off and do just that 🤷♀️#shut up abt bg3.
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“A part of me still thinks we’ll find our way back around.”
I hope we do ❤️
I left the church a while ago and I don’t think I have any blessings I can actually give but the best one I can think of is that I hope you find a place for your art to go
#let me know if you ever make it and I’ll do the same#in a few years maybe I’ll find my way to the tiny seaside down where all I have to do is write#and maybe you’ll find your way to where your art needs to be#i left religion for a reason but I do miss it#and one of the things I miss the most is the sense of determinism#you’re just becoming the person you need to be to get where you’re meant to be in the end#I don’t regret being a lawyer#but a part of me hopes desperate that I’m a lawyer because the version of me that becomes an author needed to be a lawyer first#when I was little I used to bookmark moments in my mind#I’d be doing something random and think ‘I’m going to think about this in one five ten years’ for no other reason than I wanted to track#the passage of time. ten years seemed so far ahead looking forward but I knew it’d be small looking back and that always seemed silly to me#I remember sitting outside a dressing room on an unremarkable day for no other reason than I decided I wanted to remember it in a decade#anyway I don’t do that so much anymore#but I think I’ll remember this in five years#and I hope when I remember it we’re both where we want to be#I hope you find your way back around#I hope you’re happy where you go#and I hope you can create everything your heart wants to let out
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well the nice thing about having had a life changing codependent relationship for most of my life is that whenever something bad is going on I can always switch my brain over to feeling bad about that instead
like it’s gonna feel bad either way but I’d much rather be in ‘mourning the loss of a dear friend’ mode than ‘my entire life is falling apart’ mode y’know
#like there’s so much to think about there I can very easily distract myself#whatever happened at work today? nah. instead consider: why didn’t they love me and could we ever be friends again?#it’s sad but it doesn’t give me a panic attack lol#and unlike thinking about things that make me happy my brain doesn’t snap back to the bad thing#it’s wild though that even after I’ve kind of forgiven them for all the stuff that happened it all kind of hits different#like yeah okay I was valid in feeling violated but also it wasn’t like it was on purpose and stupid kids do stupid kid shit#but even knowing that there’s just a part of me that can’t help but think about everything that went down#gives Greek tragedy vibes. the perfect storm of missteps is what ruined things in the end#and at this point like. I spent so long bothering them that I don’t wanna teach out and continue the pattern#plus there’s always that lingering fear and insecurity over being dumped in the first place#but it’s just so strange to have someone in your life for so long and then to just…not#I still bring them up in conversation sometimes like ‘oh yeah my ex liked that movie’ it’s weirdly natural#like we were inseparable for a decade it’s wild that they’re just…not part of my life anymore#and my brain will be stuck on this tangent for DAYS. great coping mechanism for whatever the fuck is happening at work#which like. don’t ask I don’t wanna talk about it I just want to move past this job and never see these people again
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i’ve really been an army for over six years huh. i’ve been an army for almost a third of my life
#i was 15 when i discovered them. jk was fucking 19 and now i’m 21 and hes turning 26 like i’ve actually grown up with them#i’m so excited and impatient for the future with them but im also sad for all the experiences i had as a baby army that i can never get back#my first year as an army was almost entirely on tumblr and the community used to be so big and social and just. so much fun#even my first couple years on army twt feel so nostalgic now. there were bad things of course but also so many great things#i just feel so lucky to have lived through these last few years with them and i never want to lose those feelings#aeron.txt#it’s so cliche but there really are so many things that you just had to be there for#the struggle of joining their fancafe (i definitely gave up after the first few tries)#the first bangtan bomb they added closed captions to (and when they took them away as punishment for spreading an exclusive fancafe video)#(i still hold that video of the tannies taking turns kissing taehyung so very close to my heart)#their first ever bbma. their first performance at the amas#the creation of bt21#the post-concert vlives during tours#bon voyage to look forward to every summer#jimin’s silent twitter videos#we’ve consistently gotten so much from them and i’m so happy for all that we’re continuing to get#i never want to seem like i think the old days were ‘better’ or like i’m not just as grateful for what they give us now#i just get so nostalgic and melancholy when i think of all the things that we don’t get to experience anymore#i was so young and going through some of my most formative years and it’s such a unique feeling to have grown up alongside bts#i’m still growing up with them. so much of what they taught me years ago is only now showing up in the decisions i make about my life#god i love them so much i love them so so so much
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✨☁️💌🌙💫
#hey there friends 🤧#i don’t even know what to say to start this little talk (?) of mine#i’ll just (for old time‘s sake) call it#midnight hour thoughts#im currently listening to ceilings by lizzy mcalpine like i have for so many nights for months now#i miss all of you#i don’t even know who’s still around these days but to all my mutuals my friends i miss you and i hope you are all truly doing well 💜#i miss bts and i miss being here being active and making gifs#i came here to give a little bit of a life update because things have recently been turning around for me for the better (i think)#i’ll be starting my first day of work; my first job ever on wednesday#i’ve been pretty open about my struggle with social anxiety and depression over the past few years#and when i tell you i had pretty much given up on ever actually living again; not feeling stuck… and now that life is finally#finally happening again after all these years i just feel so much relief… but also my anxiety is kind of sky rocketing because#I START WORKING ON WEDNESDAY!!#so yeah excited but also really scared of failure i guess and also the possibility of embarrassing myself which has kind of become my thing#but i’m also so proud of myself for always keeping hope alive and not giving up#i‘ve been at such low lows in life that now i feel so relieved that finally i can feel the good things coming (if that makes any sense)#like happiness?? didn’t even remember what that felt like for some time because so much darkness had clouded my being#and now i’ve reached something? i’m finally not stuck anymore and that’s been something i wanted to be able to say for YEARS#IM NOT STUCK ANYMORE#and it’s so very freeing#and i guess i just wanna say thank you to everyone who’s been with me through my darkest of days and everyone that’s been encouraging me#and gifting me with hope and strength to keep going#i wish i could hug all of you 💜#and i just want you to know that whatever you are going through.. it’s temporary and there is light even if it feels pitch black right now#just keep going and don’t ever stop; rest and allow yourself to heal and then keep going!! 💌 you won’t regret staying 💕#kiki talks#i miss you all so so much i might just be crying right now
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